Free Secrets of the Rich & Famous by Charlotte Phillips - Secrets of the Rich, Famous Page B

opposite sex. Did you know that the majority of women at some point fake orgasm?’
    ‘The minority who sleep with me don’t,’ he said.
    Sparks tingled up and down her spine as he deliberately and firmly held her gaze, the heat clear in his expression. She picked up another of the magazines and began to flick through it, not seeing the content, just using it to deflect the moment. It didn’t help that she knew exactly what it felt like to have his body held hard against hers. Without conscious effort her mind wasn’t above taking that scenario further step by step. What it might feel like to be kissed by him, touched by him. She wasn’t about to let him play with her the way he undoubtedly played with all the women in his life. She knew his type. What possible interest could he have in someone like her, besides amusement?
    ‘Men have magazines, too, you know,’ he said, apparently giving up on getting a reaction from her. ‘Women don’t have the monopoly on this stuff.’
    She flapped a dismissive hand at him, glad to be back on task.
    ‘You can’t possibly compare lads’ mags with the serious issues covered in women’s magazines. They’re just an excuse to show pictures of scantily clad women with the odd article about cars and football thrown in.’
    ‘Nothing wrong with that,’ he said, grinning.
    He wasn’t going to take this seriously, was he? She should have just launched straight into the stuff about image. Gathering up the magazines, she stacked them in a pile under the table and picked up her notebook.
    ‘There’s two areas where I need your input,’ she said, keeping her tone efficient. ‘Firstly, background on the kind of men I’m writing about. It should be easy. Just tell me about yourself. Where you go to socialise, what you wear, what subjects interest you, what sports you like—that kind of thing.’
    He leaned back on the sofa, arms behind his head.
    ‘You want to know about what makes me tick?’
    The question was loaded. She could feel it. It made her stomach feel soft and squiggly.
    ‘In as much as it relates to my article, yes,’ she said, trying to keep her focus.
    ‘And the other area?’
    ‘My own image,’ she said. ‘I’ve ordered astack of second-hand designer clothes. I just need you to give me a thumbs-up or down as to whether or not they would do it for you.’
    ‘
Do it
for me?’
    She felt heat rise in her cheeks. This would be so much easier if he was middle-aged, short and dumpy. It was hard to keep things businesslike with him looking like an Adonis. She didn’t relish the thought of asking his opinion on her looks, but she was determined to give her absolute all to this article. She was more than capable of crushing any stupid embarrassment in the interest of the bigger goal.
    ‘Make me look like I’d fit into your social circle without standing out,’ she rephrased. ‘Like I have plenty of money of my own.’
    ‘Got you,’ he said. ‘I assume that’s what the name-change was about, then, Genevieve.’
    He seemed determined to keep a blush on her face.
    ‘You have to agree that Jennifer Brown doesn’t sound rich.’
    ‘You could double-barrel your surname,’ he suggested. ‘What about adding your mother’s maiden name?’
    ‘Brown is my mother’s maiden name.’
    ‘OK. Add in your father’s name, then.’
    ‘I’ve got to twenty-five without using anything of his. I’m not about to start now,’ she said, more forcefully than she’d intended. Thefact that her father’s name could open doors had only made her even more determined not to use it. She was determined to prove that money and string-pulling weren’t the only way to get where you wanted in life—something Alex Hammond could do with remembering.
    He raised his eyebrows but made no comment.
    ‘Street name?’ he said. ‘Add your street name to your surname.’
    ‘That would be Farmer-Brown.’
    He burst out laughing and she couldn’t help grinning back. He looked absolutely