Billionaire's Secret

by Chantelle Shaw

  What was the most fun bit about creating this luxurious, scandalous world?

  I suppose it was the fact that the Chatsfield characters were bad boys and girls! It was fun to push the boundaries with them and then to find a way for them to redeem themselves and their outrageous behaviour.

  Did you do any extra-special research for writing this book? A sneaky cocktail at an exclusive hotel perhaps?

  Now why didn’t I think of that? Actually there was a suggestion among the authors that we should meet up at a five-star hotel and drink champagne while soaking up the glamorous atmosphere. Sadly it didn’t happen as we all live in different parts of the world, but I hope we do all get a chance to meet up and toast the Chatsfields!

  My research was mainly about burns victims, because Nicolo was badly burned in a fire when he was a teenager. I wanted to understand how this would have had an emotional as well as physical impact on him.

  What did you most love about writing your story?

  That Nicolo was such a complex character. He had suffered great hurt in the past and had felt abandoned by his mother who he had adored, at a time when he had desperately needed her. Since then, he had shut a door on his emotions and become a recluse, shunning contact with other people, even his siblings. His reaction when he discovered Sophie in his house was extreme! He certainly did not want this bright, breezy, beautiful woman around, especially when she started to chip away at his armour!

  I also really empathised with Sophie, who had survived a life-threatening illness. She is brave and fearless, and yet beneath the surface she is vulnerable and I felt that her past experiences made her very compassionate.

  When writing your hero and heroine’s story, did they surprise you in any way?

  Definitely, as I got to know them better and learned more about how the traumas in their pasts continued to affect them. Sophie’s reaction when she discovered she was pregnant was a surprise to me and not something I had planned, but it seemed to be an honest response to a situation that she had never anticipated.

  To your mind, who is the most scandalous Chatsfield?

  The playboy twins, Lucca and Orsino. Both lead high-octane lives.

  If you could have given your hero or heroine a piece of advice before they started on their journey in your story, what would it have been?

  I would have told Sophie to trust her instinct that something special and magical was developing between her and Nicolo, but that she would need all her determination and patience to break down his barriers.

  Name five things on your desk when you write.

  On my desk I have a cartoon picture of a smiling pig called ‘The Pig of Happiness’ with the caption ‘May his joyful smile remind us how much there is to be happy about!’ (I love pigs.)

  A card saying ‘Well Done Mum’ —it was from my daughter Rosie when my twelfth book was accepted (she knew I’d struggled with that book). Inside the card it says how proud she and the rest of the family are of me. I really appreciate all the support that my husband and children give me.

  A photo of Mum—I’ll always miss her.

  A notepad which says ‘I am a USA TODAY best-selling author!’ I look at it when I’ve got a blank screen in front of me and remind myself that my brain hasn’t really turned to sludge—it’s just taking the day off!

  Do you listen to music when you write?

  No, I like silence—and the sound of the gulls (I live on the coast).

  What is your worst habit when writing?

  Drinking endless cups of coffee! The addition of chocolate biscuits makes the situation (and size of bottom) even worse!

  Do you have a writing routine? If so, could you share a bit about it with us?

  In school-term time, I aim to be at my desk at 9am and work until 3pm when I pick up my son. After a cup of tea and a chat with him I’ll usually work until it’s time to cook dinner, which could be any time depending on how the book is going (fish fingers and oven chips feature highly on my menu, I’m ashamed to say).

  UNDER THE MICROSCOPE

  Read on for an exclusive interview with Nicolo Chatsfield

  If you had to pick your most public scandalous moment, what would it be?

  In my early twenties there were too many incidences when I was snapped by the paparazzi falling out of a nightclub or casino, blind drunk and accompanied by one—probably two—beautiful women.

  Was there an even more scandalous event that didn’t make it into the press?

  Only the members of my family ever knew that I had started the fire at the London Chatsfield. My father managed to keep the scandal away from the press.

  What is your biggest secret?

  I had proof that my father had been unfaithful to my mother when I caught him with his mistress. No one, including Gene, knew what I had seen.

  What do you love most about Sophie?

  Her compassion and also her incredible bravery.

  What were your first thoughts when you saw Sophie?

  That she was beautiful—and could be dangerous to my peace of mind!

  If your house were on fire and you could only save one thing, what would it be?

  Assuming that all occupants of the house, including my dog Dorcha, had already escaped, I would try to save a photo of my friend Michael, whom I met in the specialist burns hospital. Like me, Michael had been badly burned in a house fire. His sister gave me the photograph after Michael died of his injuries.

  What is the naughtiest thing you did at school?

  When I was a young boy I loved to play pranks and once I dropped a dead slug into my teacher’s cup while she wasn’t looking. I’ll never forget her shriek when she discovered it after she had drunk the coffee.

  What is your guiltiest pleasure?

  It used to be single malt whisky—to excess! Now I no longer drink alcohol and my new guilty pleasure is waking early in the morning and watching my wife Sophie sleeping.

  What is your worst habit?

  Not talking about my feelings. After years of stifling my emotions, I still find it hard to open up, but with Sophie’s help I am becoming more relaxed and I am determined that she will never doubt how much I love her.

  What is your favourite film?

  The Last of the Mohicans. It is a historical epic film combining adventure with a strong romantic element that I often watched when I was recovering from my burn injuries as a teenager.

  What present would you put beneath the Christmas tree for Sophie?

  The moon and stars if she wanted them! Sophie is not really interested in material possessions, but she loves the garden at our new house and so I would buy her plants for the flower garden she is designing.

  How will you spend your first anniversary as a couple?

  Celebrating the fact that we are now three! Our beautiful baby daughter, Lily, will be three months old on our anniversary. I have planned a surprise trip for the three of us to Paris to visit Sophie’s mother. I’m hoping to persuade Lily’s grandmother to babysit while I take Sophie to a five-star hotel for the night—after all, Paris is the city for lovers and my wife is the love of my life!

  AUTHOR NOTE

  This is a scene from the first draft of Billionaire’s Secret which I deleted at the revision stage. When I was planning the book I imagined Chatsfield House to be an old mansion and in one of the rooms I ‘saw’ fencing swords displayed on the wall. I then had the idea of Sophie challenging Nicolo to a duel. I explained how she had learned to fence as part of her therapy when she was recovering from cancer and the idea was that the scene would show how surviving cancer as a teenager had given Sophie great mental strength and courage. In the scene she is furious that Nicolo had humiliated her earlier and she is determined to beat him in the duel to win the right to stay at Chatsfield House so that she can try to persuade him to attend the shareholders’ meeting.

  The fencing match scene is two thousand five hundred words long—roughly half a chapter—and I did masses of research about fencing, match
rules, weapons, etc. as well as forming ideas of how to write a fight scene. I felt the scene gave a good insight into Sophie’s character in particular. However, when working with my editor on revisions for the book, it was suggested that I should go deeper into Sophie and Nicolo’s emotions at key scenes, such as when she finds out she is pregnant. Needing to keep within the word count, after re-reading the fencing scene I decided to cut it so that I could develop these other areas of the story.

  Pressing delete for half a chapter hurts, I can tell you! I still wanted to show Sophie as a feisty, determined person and in the published book she warns Nicolo that she is a black-belt in Taekwon-Do. I still like the fencing scene, but I think I made the right decision to take it out. It gave me a chance to delve deeper into Sophie and Nicolo’s feelings and give the story greater emotional intensity.

  Chantelle Shaw

  DELETED SCENE FROM

  Billionaire’s Secret

  Nicolo strode across the kitchen. ‘Dio, do you ever stop talking, Miss Ashdown?’ He swore beneath his breath. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘You know what I want. Christos asked me to talk to you …’

  ‘Perhaps he hoped you would bore me to death.’

  ‘… about the shareholders meeting,’ Sophie ignored his jibe. She turned her head and gave him a direct look that for some peculiar reason made Nicolo feel uncomfortable. ‘I’m simply trying to do my job,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ll make a deal with you, Mr Chatsfield.’

  His dark brows lifted. ‘You’re hardly in a position to make a deal, Miss Ashdown.’

  Her hazel eyes did not waiver from his face. ‘Do the fencing swords in the other room belong to you?’

  He frowned. ‘I don’t understand why you want to know. But yes, they’re mine.’

  ‘And you know how to use them?’

  Despite himself, Nicolo was intrigued by Sophie. When he had walked into the kitchen, he had been shocked to find that she had returned to the house after their previous encounter. She had guts, he thought grudgingly.

  Irritatingly, he was also forced to admit that attractive did not adequately describe her cool, classical beauty. She had changed into jeans and a plain white tee shirt. Despite the fact there was nothing remarkable about her clothes, he could not help noticing how the denim moulded her pert bottom and the clingy cotton shirt revealed the upward tilt of her breasts. Her long hair was caught up in a pony-tail with a few feathery strands framing her face, and the transformation from sophisticated secretary to a look that was both wholesome and yet sexy stirred a purely masculine response in Nicolo.

  ‘I can use a sword,’ he said abruptly, ‘and I know the rules of fencing. But I don’t see …’

  ‘I’m challenging you to a duel. We’ll fence with sabres, which, as I assume you know, means that everywhere on the body above the waist is a valid target area. If I win, I get to stay here and you’ll agree to listen while I try and persuade you to attend the shareholders meeting. If I lose, I’ll leave Chatsfield and I promise I won’t come back.’

  Nicolo shook his head. ‘Are you mad, Miss Ashdown? You don’t have a chance of beating me.’ Impatience clipped his voice. ‘You are wasting my time with your nonsense.’

  She probably was mad, Sophie acknowledged. It would be far simpler if she told him that Gene Chatsfield had given her permission to stay at the Chatsfield family home. But the memory of how Nicolo had slung her over his shoulder and dumped her on the driveway was a humiliation she would not quickly forget. The situation had become a battle of wills between them and it was a battle she had every intention of winning.

  She put her hands on her hips. ‘Are you declining my challenge? I learned how to fence a few years ago and I’m fairly good at it. I don’t anticipate that it will take me long to beat you.’

  ‘Such confidence,’ Nicolo mocked. ‘Haven’t you heard the saying that pride comes before a fall?’

  He strode out of kitchen, thinking that Sophie Ashdown was the most exasperating woman he had ever met. Normally he would not consider duelling with a woman, but in this instance he relished the prospect of bringing her down a peg or two. He guessed it would take him five minutes at the most to beat her in a fencing match; then she would leave and he would be shot of her for good.

  Sophie followed Nicolo across the hall and into the old ballroom where she had seen the fencing equipment.

  ‘There is a jacket and mask that should fit you,’ he told her. ‘They belong to a friend of mine who first taught me to fence when I was a boy. Perhaps you have heard of the great Italian fencing master Giancarlo Manuci?’ A glimmer of a smile crossed Nicolo’s lips as he watched Sophie’s eyes widen. ‘I see you recognise the name. Giancarlo is not much taller than you, but he is a brilliant swordsman.’

  Sophie was aware that Manuci was one of the most revered masters of the sport. She felt a flutter of nerves. Challenging Nicolo had not been one of her better ideas, she thought ruefully.

  ‘It’s not too late to change your mind,’ he drawled in an amused tone. He glanced at the clock. ‘If you leave now you could be back in London by nine o’clock tonight.’

  His arrogance made her grind her teeth. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ She pulled on the padded jacket Nicolo handed her and walked over to the swords hanging on the wall. Unlike fencing with a foil or épée, the rules of fencing with a sabre were slightly different in that it was possible to score with the edge of the blade as well as with the tip. Using a sabre required exceptional speed and agility, which was why Sophie had chosen to fight with that particular sword. Nicolo was obviously much taller and stronger than her, but she was fast on her feet and her only chance of beating him would be to rely on quick thinking. Fencing, she knew, was a test of mental as well as physical agility, and it was vital that she held her nerve.

  She swung back to face him and her nerve wobbled precariously. He looked an imposing figure in his black fencing jacket, gloves and face mask. His features were hidden behind the mesh, but his taut body exuded strength and power and Sophie cursed her stupid pride that had induced her to challenge him. But backing out of the duel was not an option she would consider. With her mask in place, she gripped the sabre’s leather handle beneath the bell-guard that gave her hand some protection and took up the en garde position at one end of the piste.

  ‘As we have no referee, are you happy for me to act as judge and keep the score?’

  ‘As long as you judge fairly.’

  ‘I don’t cheat, Miss Ashdown,’ Nicolo said coldly. ‘The winner will be the first person to score fifteen touches.’ He took up position facing her.

  ‘Prêt.’

  It was the instruction that they were about to begin and Sophie tensed.

  ‘Allez.’

  On the verbal signal to start the match she attacked immediately, holding her sword in front of her as she lunged forwards. Nicolo successfully defended and their swords clashed as he parried and pushed her blade aside. He was even stronger than Sophie had expected and the force of his blow almost made her drop her sword. Breathing hard, she gripped the handle tighter as she was forced to defend herself. With lightning speed and a flash of steel, Nicolo got the first touch with the tip of his blade on the padded sleeve of her jacket.

  Undeterred, Sophie attacked again, relying on her fast reactions as she lunged and withdrew, trying to score a touch while at the same time preventing Nicolo from scoring against her. He was more powerful, but she was quicker, and she sensed that he was surprised by her aggression as she drove him backwards and touched his arm with the side of her blade.

  The speed of the bout was dazzling, but the energy required began to take its toll on Sophie and Nicolo scored three times in succession. Again and again she had to defend herself and repel the blows from his sabre. She was struggling to score against him and she could tell from his relaxed stance that he sensed victory. He thought he had the match in the bag and Sophie could imagine his arrogant smile behind his mask as he anticipated her defeat.
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  Inside her head she heard the voice of the sports coach who had taught her to fence while she had been convalescing after her cancer had gone into remission.

  ‘Fight Sophie! Fight and grow strong. You fought hard to beat cancer and now you can regain your physical and mental strength. Nothing is beyond your capabilities. You’ve proved that you can win.’

  It had been a hard mental battle, Sophie remembered. Few people understood what it felt like to narrowly cheat death. She should have felt happy, but actually she had felt drained and strangely lost as she’d struggled to come to terms with the toll her illness had taken on her and her family. Nothing would ever be the same, she had realised. Fencing had been one of the sport therapies offered at the convalescent clinic her parents had sent her to, and for Sophie it had provided a way for her to channel her emotions while at the same time enabling her to build up her physical strength.

  She took a deep breath and focused on her masked opponent. She was stronger than Nicolo knew. She was invincible. Her blood boiled as she remembered how he had thrown her out of the house. He would not humiliate her a second time, Sophie thought grimly as she lunged and attacked so fast that she caught him off guard. He recovered, but now she was on the offensive and her expert sword-skill forced him to retreat back along the mat.

  The score was thirteen points each. Nicolo moved from a defensive parry to attack and touched his blade against her shoulder. If he scored again he would win. Sophie could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She snatched a breath and attacked once more, driving Nicolo to retreat. They moved back and forth along the piste and her lightness on her feet seemed to take him by surprise. She scored a touch on his forearm. Fourteen all! Gripping her sword, she lunged towards him, grimly determined to score the winning point.

  Nicolo backed up along the mat, but Sophie was not fooled by his retreat. She sensed he was goading her, waiting for her to make a mistake and then he would attack. The match had become a test of will-power and nerve as each waited for the other to crack first.