Seducing the Secret Heiress (2 page)

‘Yes.'

‘Me too,' she said, studying the chart. ‘I'm on a working holiday.'

‘Ah,' said Gabe. The nurse reviewed the chart, looked at him closely and then returned to the chart. ‘Grenville,' she said, staring at him none too subtly. ‘You're Gabe Grenville.'

Wow, even in a foreign hospital's emergency ward he wasn't spared. He nodded reluctantly.

‘The star maker,' she said, with a touch of awe in her voice.

He rolled his eyes at the title bestowed on him by the tabloid press. Okay, so his shows did transform everyday people into instant celebrities, but being pursued by every British man, woman and child who wanted to be famous was becoming very tedious.

‘Are you in Italy making a show?' she asked a little breathlessly.

‘No, just on holiday. How's Amelia?' He stood, hoping to put the focus back on the person who needed it.

‘Oh, she's fine. Fine,' the nurse said, dropping the chart back in place before plonking herself on the side of the bed. She flicked back her hair and crossed her legs. ‘What are you working on, then?'

‘Nothing. The other nurse checked Amelia's pulse,' he said, certain this nurse had forgotten the little girl was there.

An ugly look crossed the woman's face. An overly bright smile followed quickly. The nurse made a big fuss of checking Amelia's pulse.

‘You know, I've always wanted to be on TV,' the nurse crooned as she leaned in close to Gabe.

You and everyone else.

A screeching alarm sounded beyond the cubicle. The nurse slipped from the bed and glanced towards the source of the sound, but she didn't leave.

‘Shouldn't you go?' Gabe asked.

The nurse finally stalked from the curtained space. Gabe collapsed into the chair again. Fame. Why was it so seductive? It wasn't enough for people to be married, have a good job, travel or whatever else they did with their lives. As one young woman had said when she'd thrown herself at him, if you're not on TV, you might as well be dead.

But he couldn't complain. His shows had virtually invented the instant celebrity. He could spot ruthless ambition a mile away.

Except in Sophie. He stood and paced up and down the small space. Who'd have expected an heiress, a woman already celebrated in the social pages, to have been so desperate for onscreen fame? And to try to achieve it through such brazen manipulation? He swore and leaned on the end of the bed. No woman would ever use him like that again.
Ever.

Of course, it made dating difficult. He usually realised within five minutes the woman imagined she was at an audition, not a casual dinner.

His thoughts strayed back to Charlie. Was there an idea for a show in what happened today?

Everyday Heroes. Right Place, Right Time.

He gave his head a little shake. Probably not a good idea to develop a TV show from your niece's near drowning.

Amelia murmured in her sleep. Gabe stood and stroked her hand lightly. He dreaded telling his sister what had happened – she didn't need more worries. When he'd suggested taking the children abroad during her last chemo treatment, she'd protested. But he knew she needed the rest. Her prognosis was excellent, thank goodness, and after this last treatment, the doctor expected to give her the all clear.

When Emma had waved them off last week, she'd given him a lecture. All work and no play . . . blah, blah, blah. As if he were the one who needed some R&R.

‘Go, meet someone,' she'd advised. ‘Not every woman's a Sophie Eddington-Smythe.' But how would he know? No, he wouldn't touch a woman until he was sure of her motives. A hint of deception and he'd run a mile.

Amelia appeared to have settled. He sat.

He needed a new concept. Amelia's blonde Aussie saviour flashed into his mind. There was a story there, he could tell. Something about her intrigued him. Certainly very few women did that these days. It wasn't just her long blonde hair, athletic body and cute accent. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, just enjoying her image drifting through his mind.

His eyes snapped open. He shifted, uncomfortable in the plastic chair. In the end she'd discover who he was. Then she'd want something from him.

Discover who he was. Then she'd want something from him.

Just like everyone else.

Charlie glanced again at the waiting room clock. Ten o'clock.

They'd arrived about four that afternoon and the emergency room had been a mad house. Gabe and Amelia had been whisked away. Rupert hadn't been allowed to accompany them into the inner sanctum of the department so Charlie had stayed to look after him.

She heard the double doors to the waiting room swing open, but she didn't look up. She'd stopped checking after the first hour crept by.

Rupert had done well, but with the hours dragging on, his little nerves had frayed. She'd run through her full repertoire of nursery stories and finally he'd fallen into a fitful sleep on her lap. She stroked his hair and sand fell in a stream to the floor. The poor child needed a warm bath and bed.

She looked at the clock again. Two past ten. The warmth of Rupert's little body couldn't kill the anxiety building in her chest. She'd only arrived in Genoa an hour before she'd taken that plunge in the sea. Her backpack was gone. Her only clothes were the ones she was wearing. She ran her hand down her shorts. Damp. Her shirt was stiff with salt.

Outside, darkness had descended. Charlie shivered as an icy knot formed in her stomach. She had nowhere to stay and she didn't know anything about this city.

Spontaneous backpacking.
She rolled her eyes. She'd been determined to travel without the usual trappings of her extravagant life. No detailed itinerary. No five-star hotels with laundry service. No uncomfortable five-inch heels and tedious cocktail dresses. She wanted to try life on her own terms.

So everything hadn't been smooth sailing. In just a week she'd slept with bedbugs in a Roman youth hostel, had her laptop stolen in a café in Florence and, on the train from Rome to Genoa, she'd been hassled all the way by a group of sinister-looking youths. Now she'd lost all her possessions. Her backpacking skills were awesome – not.

‘I'm so sorry, Charlie.' Gabe's weary voice interrupted her reflections. She sat straighter in her chair and Rupert wriggled in his sleep.

Gabe's eyes looked dull. He carried Amelia, sleeping in his arms.

‘Everything all right?' Charlie tried to stand, but Rupert's body pinned her to the chair.

‘Yes. She's fine, but I have to keep an eye on her for the next few days.'

‘What a relief.'

‘Yes, but I'm not looking forward to telling her mother.'

A stab of disappointment centred in her chest.

‘I'm sorry,' she said, tapping her head in frustration. ‘I could've called her for you.'

A faint smile touched Gabe's lips. ‘It's okay. It would've been a little hard for her to get here.'

Charlie frowned.

‘She's in England,' he said.

‘Oh.' Charlie dropped her eyes and stroked Rupert's hair. Clearly a delicate area. She shouldn't trespass.

‘Can we go home now, Uncle Gabe?' Amelia mumbled.

Charlie's eyes flew to Gabe's face.

‘Uncle?' Heat rose in her cheeks. The joy in her voice had been unmistakable. Had he noticed?

This time his smile triggered a sensual tingle through her body.Yeah, he'd noticed.

‘Yes. Amelia and Rupert are my sister's children. She's been sick. I thought I'd give her a break and take the kids on holiday.'

‘Oh.' Kind
and
single?

‘Pleeease.' Amelia drew the word out long and loud. ‘Can we go home?'

Gabe rubbed the little girl's back. ‘Sure. Are you all right to walk? I'll have to carry Rupert.'

Charlie shifted in her seat and scooped Rupert into her arms. Rupert didn't wake, he just snuggled into her chest.

‘Don't worry, I've got him.'

‘Thanks, you're an angel. Let's find a taxi.'

At Gabe's words, although exhaustion permeated every cell, renewed energy zinged through her.

The heat of the day had been replaced by a cool sea breeze. A taxi stood idling in a rank just down the road. It took a little wrangling to organise the kids into their seat belts, but soon Charlie and Gabe were standing on the pavement facing each other.

It seemed as if she'd only just looked at him properly for the first time. Somehow, the moonlight accentuated their difference in height. Being tall, she often stood eye to eye with men. For once, she was shorter.

‘So,' she said, not really knowing where to look. ‘I'll be . . .'She indicated over her shoulder as if she planned to walk off down the road. Not that she had any idea where she was in relation to the nearest hotel.

‘For goodness' sake, Charlie, get in the taxi,' he said, taking her arm and opening the front door. ‘I'm not going to leave you here. Where are you staying?'

‘Um. I don't know yet.' She looked around as if a hotel might magically appear out of the darkness.

A frown creased Gabe's handsome face. He looked around. ‘Is your bag at the station?'

‘No. I had it with me at the beach. I only arrived in Genoa today.' She paused. ‘Um, when I went to help Amelia, someone must have stolen it.'

Gabe's eyes widened. ‘What?'

Charlie shrugged. ‘Someone must have run off with it.'

‘Let me get this straight.' His brow furrowed. ‘You've spent most of the day helping us . . .' He paused. ‘Right then. You're coming home with us.'

A multitude of emotions assailed her at once. She couldn't go home with a stranger, even a hot, sexy one. But the alternative?

‘No. No,' she said. ‘I can't do that.'

She didn't fancy searching for a hotel alone in a strange city. But spending the night with Gabe . . . She stepped away from the car. She barely knew him. He was just being nice. She didn't want to be a burden, particularly after everything he'd been through. She ran some more excuses through her mind, but in reality, she didn't want to say goodbye and walk away.

‘Sorry, Charlie, but this isn't up for discussion. You've clearly no idea where you're staying, no clothes and it's now past ten at night.' He leaned in close. ‘And, let me tell you, this is not a town to be wandering around late at night.'

As if on cue, a group of youths sauntered by, eyeing them intently. She stepped closer to Gabe.

‘See?' Gabe pointed to the retreating figures.

‘I don't—'

Gabe threw up his hands in mock frustration. ‘What sort of man would just leave you here?' He gently propelled her towards the car. ‘Please, Charlie. Hop in the cab and we can sort everything out in the morning.'

At that moment both children clearly decided enough was enough – they started howling.

‘You'd be doing me the most enormous favour.' His beautiful eyes pleaded with her. ‘You seem to have a calming influence on Rupert. He's been missing his mum.'

How could she say no? She was out of options. And she just didn't want to stand on the footpath and watch Gabe drive away.

‘Where are you staying?' she asked tentatively.

‘I've rented a little apartment in Nervi. It's just down the coast. Less touristy than Portofino. It's only two bedrooms, but you can share with Amelia, and Rupert can come in with me.'

Again, he offered her the front seat. She bit her lip. The decision seemed like a crossroads. Safe choices dominated all decisions in her life. No risks. Nothing unexpected. When she'd left her life in Australia, she'd made a commitment to change, be different, be – well, she wasn't sure. But the question of whether or not to step into a stranger's car would never have been considered in her past life.

Before she could change her mind, she settled herself into the front seat. Her heart thudded a little harder, but the thrill of adventure overrode any sense of concern.

‘Okay?' Gabe asked as he held the door.

‘Yup.'

He closed her door and climbed in the back. She noticed he cuddled the kids as best he could while providing the driver with directions. He obviously adored the children. She looked away. So different from her own family. Her parents considered affection an indulgence not worthy of the upper classes. Children – well,
child
in their case – were certainly important. A male heir was critical. Though a daughter was almost useless, at least she could be a bargaining tool in a business deal.

She swallowed hard. The betrayal cut so deeply, she wondered if she'd ever recover. She flexed her left hand. The band of white around her ring finger was now barely discernible. Her engagement ring sat in a little crystal dish on her dressing table at home.

She looked out the window. As the city of Genoa whizzed by, she realised she'd taken another huge leap into the unknown.

Gabe opened the door to his apartment and snapped on the lights. His body ached as though he'd lived a lifetime in just one day.

‘My room's through here.' He nodded towards a doorway. ‘If you could just take Rupert in there, I'll put Amelia to bed.'

A few minutes later he returned and found Charlie standing in the middle of the living room. He stopped short. Damn, she was beautiful. Long, honey-blonde hair. Tall and toned. Open, friendly face. Just as he'd always imagined a typical Aussie girl. But there was more. A touch of sadness.

She smiled when she saw him, then looked down at the carpet and shuffled her feet. Clearly she didn't know what to do next. So endearing. By now, any other woman would be listing her acting credits.

‘Why don't we have a shower?'

Her eyes widened.

‘Not together,' he said quickly, laughing.

‘Oh.' Her cheeks flashed red, but she smiled. ‘Sorry. I thought I'd—'

‘Relax, Charlie. It's been a tough day. Have a shower and you'll feel better.' He pointed to a side door. ‘You take that one. There should be a spare towel in there.'

Gabe turned and headed for his room. He needed a cold shower to counter the mental image of stepping under a warm spray with Charlie.

‘Ah, Gabe,' Charlie called.

‘Hmm,' he said, poking his head out the bedroom door.

‘Any chance I could borrow a shirt?' She pulled at her top. ‘Everything's still a little sandy.'

‘Sure.' Walking to his chest of drawers, he rummaged through his clothes. He pulled out a T-shirt. He quite liked the idea of Charlie wearing his clothes. Back in the living room, he held it up.

‘Okay?'

‘Perfect. Thanks.'

Charlie's shorts hugged the curves of her bottom as she crossed the room to the bedroom. Her tanned legs went on forever.

‘See you in five,' he called.

He quickly ducked into the bathroom. The time couldn't go quickly enough as far as he was concerned.

Ten minutes later, Charlie came back into the living room. The T-shirt hung down to just below her bottom but she'd kept her shorts on. She'd washed her hair, which reached nearly to her waist in lush golden strands. She looked incredible. His eyes lingered a little too long.

‘Right,' he said, quickly pushing up from his chair. ‘We need a drink. What would you like?'

He walked into the kitchen. She followed.

‘I don't know. What have you got?'

‘Let's see.' He opened the fridge. ‘Prosecco, prosecco . . .' He leaned further into the fridge. ‘Or prosecco.'

‘Italian champagne?' She pretended to consider for a moment. ‘Sounds perfect.'

He grabbed the bottle and a couple of glasses and led the way to the terrace.

‘This must be stunning in the day time,' she said, leaning on the balcony railing and looking out to sea.

He looked at the beach and the darkness beyond. The air smelled of salt and seaweed. He shivered. After what had happened today, trips to the beach would be off the menu for a while.

‘Yeah. I guess.'

‘You don't like the view?'

He put the glasses on the table and gestured for Charlie to sit.

‘Sure – but the kids . . . you know . . .'He pulled the wrapping from the top of the bottle. ‘It's the first time I've looked after them on my own. I knew it'd be tough, but . . .'

‘Harder than you thought?'

‘You have no idea,' he said, easing the cork from the neck of the bottle. ‘Or maybe you do?' He looked at her expectantly. He knew nothing about this woman.

The cork flew into the moonlight. He poured two glasses and handed one to her.

‘What a day,' he said, taking a seat and putting his feet up on the railing.

‘Yeah. A shocker.'

‘Sorry to ruin it for you.'

‘No, no. It's been the highlight of my holiday so far.'

He looked over at her. She sat tall in her chair, her eyes fixed out to sea.

‘I mean . . .' She'd obviously let the words slip unintentionally.

‘You don't like Italy?' He knew he probably shouldn't pry, but was going to anyway. After all, he'd just invited a stranger to stay the night.

‘It's not that. I love it. It's just, um, I probably made a rash decision coming over here.'

‘You needed to get away?'

‘Yeah. Something like that.'

He waited for her to elaborate. She didn't. A woman with secrets. A warning sounded in his head.

‘Well, now you're here, you should make the most of it.'

She simply nodded.

A shadow of sadness creased her face. A crazy plan sprang into his mind. Maybe it was the moonlight? The prosecco? The way she traced her fingers repeatedly through her long hair? No, it was that he owed her, big time.

‘Why don't you stay with us until we leave on Friday?'

She looked at him, eyes wide. He'd certainly caught her attention.

‘Look, Charlie, after all you've done for us today, I'm going to make sure the next five days are the best. I owe you.'

‘No. I couldn't impose.'

‘I insist. In fact, I'll listen to no argument.'

‘Gabe, I couldn't. You're on a family holiday.'