Free Seducing the Secret Heiress

quickly.
    â€˜Nothing.’
    He walked to the stove to view the damage.
    â€˜Ah, no need to cry over spilt pancakes,’ he said, his eyes sparkling. He poured himself a coffee, leaned against the kitchen counter and scooped up the newspaper.
    As she cleaned, Charlie stole a glance at his body. He looked as though he’d stepped from a billboard. His designer jeans hung perfectly on his slim hips and his cool urban shirt highlighted his broad shoulders. She busied herself with the pancakes, easing a couple onto a plate.
    â€˜Focus on this instead.’ He flung the paper down on the counter and pointed to an ad.
    Wanted. Amateur cooks for new reality TV show.
    â€˜You’re advertising for contestants already?’ she asked as she skimmed the ad.
    â€˜Yes and we’ll be conducting regional finals for the next few weeks to find the top ten contestants for the show.’
    She handed him a plate of pancakes and he took a seat at the table.
    â€˜It’ll be great,’ he continued. ‘We’re running regional competitions across the country. The ten finalists will compete each week in a televised knockout. The winner receives the opportunity to attend the top British cooking school and do an apprenticeship at Alexander’s under the direction of Jasper Donovan.’
    â€˜Sounds amazing.’ She looked down at the ad again.
    â€˜And you’re going to try out,’ he said, his eyes bright with mischief.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜I want you to audition.’
    She smiled indulgently. ‘There’s no way I am going on national TV.’ It didn’t really fit with keeping a low profile.
    â€˜Perhaps not, but you are going to give it a go.’
    â€˜No way.’
    â€˜If you make the finals, you receive a seven hundred and fifty pound stipend per episode. That’s more than twice what you’re earning now.’
    She stared at him.
    With that much, she could stay in London for longer. That would show the men in her life she wasn’t so easy to control. She read the ad again. Why not? There was nothing in Australia to go back to and everything in London to stay for – she flicked a glance at Gabe. This could be the difference between success or returning home with her tail between her legs.
    â€˜Aren’t there rules about friends of the director being involved?’ she asked, moving back to the stove.
    â€˜As far as I know, you are not an employee of my company, or any associated companies, or a relative. So, according to the rules, you’re eligible.’ He cut off a slice of pancake. ‘Unless of course we front up to the altar in the next few months.’
    Another pancake died on the side of the pan.
    â€˜Anyway,’ he continued, thankfully not noticing her loss of composure, ‘I have nothing to do with the judging. I might be good at developing reality TV shows, but I wouldn’t know a ramekin from a rissole. I’ve lined up three of the best foodies in the country – Terry Fletcher, the London Times food critic; Susan Watson, the director of Olivio’s cooking school; and Jasper Donovan.’
    â€˜Wow.’ Their names alone sounded intimidating.
    â€˜And VIP passengers and the audience also vote. Their votes count for fifty percent of the overall weekly score,” Gabe forked some pancake into his mouth.
    Why not give it a go? It wasn’t as if she were going to reach the finals and be on TV. She’d have some fun and Gabe would still be in her life. It would be fun to see the concept come to life.
    â€˜So, I exert no undue influence,’ he said. ‘Trials start next week at the London Exhibition Centre and you’re going to be there.’
    She’d nearly convinced herself when reality pounced. What was she thinking? There were so many reasons not to do it, most pressing being her lack of money.
    â€˜I can’t do it. I have to get home. There’s that little