Claiming His Hidden Heir

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Claiming His Hidden Heir Page 3

by Carol Marinelli


  Cecelia liked mouths.

  Gordon’s had been a bit small and pinched but she had only really thought that after she had seen Luka’s.

  No, she should never have taken the job in the first place.

  The very second she’d entered his luxurious office and he had stood to greet her, Cecelia had known she should turn and run.

  Until that point, she and Gordon had seemingly ticked every box, yet that had changed the moment she’d shaken hands with Luka.

  She had known that she had to end her engagement the night she had come back from the museum and while being intimate with Gordon had found herself imagining Luka instead.

  It had been the best orgasm of her life!

  Luka was everything that her aunt had warned her about.

  Despite somehow knowing it could only end badly, and that she should leave now, instead she had taken the job.

  And now she was here.

  About to resign.

  ‘There is something you wish to discuss?’ Luka said, and she nodded.

  It was all very formal and deliberately so, for Luka was not about to make this easy on her.

  Quite simply he had never known a better PA and he did not want that to change.

  He wanted Cecelia to stay and Luka always got what he wanted.

  ‘So?’ he invited. ‘What is it that you have to say?’

  It wasn’t the first time she had handed in her notice and Cecelia was about to deliver her well-rehearsed lines yet she just sat there in strained silence. For when he held her gaze, as he did now, there felt like a limit on the oxygen in the vast room and superfluous words were rather hard to find.

  ‘I’m leaving.’

  ‘Pardon?’ Luka checked, and cocked his head a little, as if he hadn’t heard. He would make her say it again, and more explicitly this time.

  ‘I shan’t be renewing my contract.’ After such an appalling start the words now came tumbling out. ‘I’ve given it considerable thought and though it’s been an amazing year I’ve decided that it’s time to move on.’

  ‘But for all your considerable thought, you haven’t discussed it with me.’

  ‘I don’t need your permission to resign, Luka.’

  Oh, this wasn’t going well, Cecelia thought as she heard the snap in her voice.

  Yet she was almost at breaking point and that was verified when Bridgette buzzed.

  ‘There’s a woman called Katiya down in Reception, asking to see you, Luka...’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘I’m busy.’

  ‘She’s very insistent. Apparently you’ll know why.’

  ‘Tell Security that whoever lets her up will be fired.’

  He looked over at Cecelia. ‘Why can’t women take no for an answer?’

  ‘Why can’t my boss?’

  ‘Touché,’ he conceded and then decided to play the sympathy card, ‘Cecelia, one of the reasons I changed my mind about taking the day off was that I have just found out my mother is very unwell.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Cecelia said. ‘If there’s any...’ She stopped and then she closed her mouth rather than continue.

  ‘You were saying?’ Luka checked, and when she didn’t respond he spoke for her. ‘Because actually there is something you can do for me. Cece, I am going to be away a lot in the coming months. My mother has cancer and will be undergoing extensive treatments...’

  She felt her own rapid blink.

  Luka never spoke of his family.

  Ever!

  ‘I am going to have to spend a lot of time in Xanero. You’re an amazing PA and I hope you know how much I appreciate you.’ He saw the swallow in her throat and went in for the kill. ‘At this difficult time, I don’t want to deal with someone new.’

  ‘Luka, I am sorry to hear that your mother is unwell but it doesn’t sway my decision.’

  She really was as cold as ice, and yet, and yet...as he looked across the desk he could see tension in her features and that those gorgeous green eyes could not meet his.

  ‘Can I ask you to stay on for another six months? Naturally you’ll be reimbursed...’

  ‘Not everything is about money, Luka.’

  He saw her green eyes flash and knew full well she thought him nothing more than a rich playboy.

  She knew nothing about his start in life and Luka certainly wasn’t about to enlighten her.

  No one knew the truth.

  Even his own parents seemed to believe the lie that had long been perpetuated—that the resort on Xanero Island and the original famous Kargas restaurant housed within it had given Luka his start in life.

  Well, it hadn’t.

  Sex had.

  Affluent holidaymakers looking for a thrill had first helped Luka to pave his way from near poverty to the golden lifestyle he had now.

  The more sanitised PR version was that the first Kargas restaurant had given Luka his start.

  Lies, all lies.

  Not that he had any reason to tell Cecelia that.

  Luka did not have to explain himself to his PA.

  ‘What if I offered more annual leave?’

  ‘I’ve already accepted another role.’

  And so, when being nice and accommodating didn’t work, Luka grew surly. ‘With whom?’

  ‘I don’t need to answer that.’

  ‘Actually, Cece—’

  ‘Don’t call me that!’ she reared. ‘Luka, on the one hand you tell me how much you appreciate the work I do and yet you can’t even be bothered to get my name right.’

  Finally he had his reaction.

  ‘So you’re leaving because I don’t call you by your correct name?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then why?’

  ‘I don’t have to answer that.’

  ‘Actually Ce-cel-i-a—’ he drawled every syllable of her name ‘—if you look at your contract you cannot work for any of my rivals for a period of a year and you cannot—’

  ‘Don’t.’ She halted him. ‘Luka, I am allowed to leave.’

  She was.

  ‘Of course you are.’ He just didn’t like that fact.

  ‘I’ve got four weeks left on my contract and naturally I’ll start looking for my replacement straight away. Unless you have anyone particular in mind?’

  ‘I’ll leave all of that to you.’

  ‘Sure.’

  He flicked his hand in dismissal and Cecelia read the cue and headed out, though she did not return to her desk.

  Once alone in the quiet of the bathrooms she leant against one of the cool marble walls.

  She’d done it.

  Possibly it was the worst career move she would ever make, but soon sanity would be restored to her mind.

  No longer would she stand on a busy Tube in rush hour, wishing that somehow she was the woman lying beneath that depraved, beautiful face as he leaned in for a kiss...

  No more would she have to breathe through her mouth when he was close just to avoid a hit of the heady scent of him.

  Finally, the clenching low in her stomach at his lazy smile would dissipate.

  Order would be restored to the chaos he had made of her heart.

  Not yet, though.

  It really was an awful day.

  Flowers were delivered for Luka that Cecelia signed for, and then stupidly she read the card.

  Oh, the offer from Katiya was very explicit.

  And if he would just give her the elevator code then Katiya could come right up now, it would seem, and get straight on her knees.

  Cecelia returned the card to the envelope and took them in to him.

  ‘A delivery for you.’

  ‘From?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  He opened the card and then tossed it.

  ‘Have them if you want,’ he said, gesturing to the flowers.

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Then put them somewhere that I can’t see them.’

  In case you get tempted? Cecelia wanted to ask.

 
But of course she didn’t.

  And then the downstairs receptionists messed up and a call was put through to Luka, but thankfully she was in his office at the time and it was Cecelia who answered it.

  ‘I just need to speak to him...’ a woman, presumably Katiya, sobbed.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Kargas isn’t taking any unscheduled calls,’ Cecelia duly said.

  Luka didn’t even look up from his computer.

  ‘What time do you have to finish today?’ he asked when she ended the call.

  ‘Any time,’ Cecelia said, surprised by the unusual question, because Luka never usually bothered to ask. ‘Why?’

  ‘I want you to move the meeting with Garcia to the close of business there.’

  ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘And I need you to sort out my flight tomorrow to Xanero. I’ll be away for a couple of weeks.’

  ‘A couple of weeks?’ Cecelia checked, because for him to be away for that length of time was unheard of. Luka used his jet the way most people used public transport.

  ‘I already told you,’ Luka said and his voice was curt. ‘My mother is ill.’

  With his flight arranged, Luka rang Sophie Kargas and told her that her only child would be back tomorrow.

  ‘One thing,’ Luka said. ‘I shan’t be there to hold your hand and watch you give in. You’re going to fight this.’

  ‘Luka, I’m tired, I don’t want any fuss. I just want you to come home.’

  He could hear the defeat in her voice and he knew only too well the reason. The treatment would mean regular trips to Athens and Theo Kargas liked his wife to be at home.

  Yes, it was a very long and difficult day spent avoiding each other as best they could but the tension hung heavy in the air at the office.

  ‘I have your mother on the phone,’ Cecelia said as afternoon gave way to evening.

  ‘Tell her I’m in a meeting.’

  ‘Of course.’

  He really was a bastard, Cecelia decided as she relayed the message to the feeble-sounding woman.

  ‘But I just need to speak with him for a moment.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Cecelia said. ‘Luka can’t take any calls right now. I know he’s busy trying to clear up as much of his schedule as he can today.’

  Luka sat with his hands behind his head and his feet on the desk.

  He could not face speaking to his mother again today and hearing how she had as good as given up on life.

  Well, he would deal with all that tomorrow, for what Luka had to say would be better said face to face.

  Leave him.

  It wouldn’t be the first time he had said it to his mother, but he hoped it would be the last.

  Always he had hoped that his father would die first, if only to afford his mother some peace.

  He glanced at the time and saw that it was approaching seven.

  The meeting with Garcia was now scheduled for ten.

  Luka got up and put on his jacket and then headed out of the office.

  Cecelia didn’t look up; instead she carried on tapping away on her computer, pretending she hadn’t noticed him.

  ‘Truce,’ Luka said, and he saw her shoulders drop a little as her tense lips relaxed in a small smile.

  ‘Truce,’ Cecelia said, and she looked up at him.

  ‘Let’s go and get dinner.’

  Her heart dropped.

  Not that she showed it.

  Cecelia wanted this day to be over.

  More than anything she loathed going to dinner with him.

  Or rather she loved going to dinner with him.

  Luka was incredibly good company.

  But that only made it all so much worse.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘I’LL JUST GO and freshen up,’ Cecelia said and reached for her bag.

  ‘Sure.’

  He was lounging on her desk again and she had to step over his long legs to get past.

  In the luxurious bathrooms of Kargas Holdings, Cecelia stared in the mirror and told herself that in four weeks this slow torture would be over.

  She retied her hair and topped up her lipstick and, unable to help herself, checked her phone to see if her aunt—or anyone—had messaged her for her birthday.

  No.

  As disappointing as it was about her aunt and uncle, the real truth was that Cecelia could think of nothing nicer than going out for dinner with Luka on her birthday.

  Except this wasn’t a date—she was going out with her boss for a work dinner and Cecelia knew she would have to spend the next couple of hours constantly reminding herself of that fact.

  When she came out, Luka was standing, waiting, and she felt his eyes on her as she retrieved her little bolero and put it on.

  God, but he loathed it.

  It was the colour of mustard and he’d far prefer to see her pale flesh. He would love to tell her just that, but with Cecelia he was constantly on his best behaviour.

  ‘Ready?’ he checked, and she nodded.

  ‘Ready.’

  His driver delivered them to a gorgeous Greek restaurant on the river that had recently opened.

  ‘Time to check out the competition,’ Luka said as they were led to a beautifully set table, but Luka refused it.

  ‘We’ll eat outside,’ he said.

  They were soon seated at a beautiful spot overlooking the river.

  ‘The music would drive me crazy in there,’ Luka told her, though the real reason was that they had the air-conditioning cranked up and he wanted her to be rid of that cardigan.

  What the hell was wrong with him, Luka thought, that he would sit outside just for the thrill of seeing her upper arms.

  Her arms!

  ‘Here’s perfect,’ Cecelia said as she took her seat. ‘There’s a lovely breeze from the river.’

  ‘Of course there is,’ Luka said, but she didn’t understand his wry smile.

  It certainly wasn’t the first time they had eaten together, although it wasn’t often that they did. When they travelled, Cecelia had taken to having her breakfast sent to her hotel room as she could not bear to see him breakfasting with whomever he was seeing at the time.

  Often, when away, she and Luka had lunch together but generally there were guests or clients involved.

  As for dinner?

  She had no idea, neither did she want to know what Luka did by night and so, when away, and the working day had ended, she generally opted for room service.

  Now she looked through the menu but could not concentrate for she was certain he would again try to dissuade her from leaving.

  He didn’t, though, and instead he selected the wine.

  ‘What would you like?’

  ‘Not for me.’ Cecelia said.

  ‘Of course not.’ He rolled his eyes. Heaven forbid she relax in his company, but he asked for sparkling water.

  She gave her order to the waiter, which, despite its fancy wording, was basically a tomato salad.

  Luka ordered bourdeto.

  She had seen it on the menu and read that it was made with scorpion.

  Apt, for there would be a sting in his tail and she could feel it.

  Oh, the surroundings were beautiful and the conversation polite but she could feel her own tension as she awaited attack. For Luka did not give in easily, that much she knew.

  Life was a chessboard to him and every move was planned.

  Now that his mother was ill, he had very good reasons to want an efficient PA, one capable of steering the helm while he was away.

  Yes, she was braced, if not for attack then for the silk of his persuasion. But she must not relent, not now that she had finally had the courage to hand in her notice.

  ‘A taste of home,’ he said as their dishes were served.

  ‘Will it be nice to be there?’ Cecelia asked. ‘Aside from the difficult news, I mean.’

  Luka just shrugged.

  ‘Will you be staying with your family?’ she asked. She wasn’t probing, she told
herself, for there were arrangements to be made that would undoubtedly fall to her.

  ‘The resort is huge. They have a villa there but on the other side to mine.’

  ‘What’s it like in Xanero?’

  ‘The island is stunning.’

  ‘It’s still a family business?’ Cecelia checked.

  ‘Yes.’ It wasn’t an outright lie but there was so much he left unsaid.

  ‘Your father’s still the chef there?’

  Luka didn’t answer straight away.

  The truth was, his father had never been the chef there. Well, once, for the briefest of times.

  It was all part of an elaborate charade that Luka went along with, only so that his mother could hold her head up in town.

  ‘He’s semi-retired,’ Luka said, and that wasn’t really a lie—Theo Kargas had spent his adult life semi-retired. Still, rather than talk about home he moved the subject to the upcoming weeks. Not everything had been cancelled. Luka would be working online and there was a trip to Athens he would keep. It was doable yet it was complex as Luka was booked out weeks and months ahead of time, so there was never much room for manoeuvre.

  ‘I’ll tell Garcia that the trip to New York will have to wait.’

  ‘He won’t like it.’

  ‘Good,’ Luka said. ‘You know what they say about treating them mean to keep them keen. He needs me far more than I need him, yet he has started to forget that! Still, perhaps we can go when I return.’

  ‘Of course.’ Cecelia nodded. ‘When you know more how things are at home I’ll schedule it again. Hopefully by then your new PA will be on board and he or she can go along too.’

  He didn’t like the sound of that.

  Luka looked over to where she sat, sipping on sparking water with that mustard-coloured cardigan covering cream shoulders, and still he wondered what made her tick.

  Cecelia intrigued him.

  She was as cold as ice and so buttoned up and formal that, even though he knew she’d been engaged, he privately wondered if she was a virgin, for he simply could not imagine her in bed.

  But on occasion he found himself imagining it anyway!

  ‘What happened to Gordon?’ Luka suddenly asked.

  Her silence was a pointed one.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘you’re leaving—I can ask now.’

  ‘I like to keep my private life private,’ Cecelia said, stabbing an olive with her fork.

 

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