Certainly she would not be telling Luka that at inappropriate times images of him had kept popping into her head! And neither would she tell him that she had thought herself content until he’d appeared in her life.
Instead, she told him a far safer version. ‘I decided that my aunt and uncle’s version of the perfect man for me didn’t fit mine.’
‘Your aunt and uncle?’ he checked, recalling that Cecelia’s aunt was her next of kin on her résumé.
‘I was raised by them after my mother died.’
‘How old were you then?’
‘Eight,’ Cecelia said through taut lips, for she was terribly uncomfortable with the subject, but Luka seemed very intent on finding things out tonight.
‘What about your father?’
She gave a slight shake of her head, which told him nothing other than the subject was out of bounds.
Not just with Luka.
She had never told anyone about the time she had come face to face with him.
He had dark hair and had worn a wedding ring.
That was all Cecelia knew. That and the fact he had shouted at her mother. When the money had run out, Harriet had called him to tell him he had a child, but it hadn’t produced the result her mother had obviously hoped for.
There had been no joyful greeting. His eyes had been furious when they had met hers, and Harriet had quickly sent her daughter to her room.
A lot of shouting had ensued and Cecelia had found out that her mother had once been given a considerable sum of money for... Cecelia had frowned when she heard a word that a seven-year-old Cecelia didn’t understand.
Termination.
Soon after, to her terrible distress, she found out what her father had meant.
‘I don’t want to talk about my father,’ she said to Luka.
‘Fine.’ He shrugged and then gave that wicked smile. ‘Tell me more about your fiancé, then.’
‘Ex,’ she pointed out.
‘That’s right.’
At the time, the only reason he had guessed her engagement was over had been the lack of a ring and the absence of his calls. There had been no tears from Cecelia or days off and no impact on her efficiency that he’d been able to see.
‘Was it you who ended it?’
Cecelia gave a terse nod.
‘How did he take it?’
‘Luka!’ she warned.
‘I’m just curious. I’ve never been with anyone long enough to be engaged. I can’t imagine getting that close to someone.’ His eyes narrowed a little as he looked at her, still trying, as he had been since the day they had met, to gauge her. ‘Was there someone else involved? Is that why you ended it?’
‘Of course not,’ she bristled.
‘Did you live together?’
‘I really don’t want to discuss my private life,’ Cecelia said. ‘You don’t.’
‘Yes, I do.’
‘No, Luka, you don’t. I might deal with your exes but I know nothing about you—’
‘That’s not true.’
‘How long has your mother been ill?’
His jaw gritted and Cecelia gave a little smirk as she took a sip of her water.
‘Fair enough.’ He watched as she put down her glass and told her a truth. ‘I’m going to miss not getting to know you, though.’
She would miss him far more than he knew.
‘Is there anything I can do to dissuade you from leaving?’ he asked.
She looked up at his voice for his tone had surprised her. She had expected sulky, or manipulative, or for more money to be waved in front of her.
Instead he asked if there was anything he could do to keep her.
‘No.’ Cecelia said, and then she cleared her throat, for the word had come out huskily. ‘Luka, I will be here for another month and I will find the best replacement that I can. I’ll train her myself. It really has been an amazing year but I’m ready for a new challenge.’
‘So I’m no longer a challenge?’
‘Of course you are,’ Cecelia said.
He was actually a constant challenge to her senses—recklessness crept in whenever he was near, which Cecelia had to fight constantly just to keep it in check.
‘How was the bourdeto?’ Cecelia asked as his plate was removed unfinished.
Luka shrugged.
He had far more on his mind than food.
‘What if I promise to stop calling you Cece?’ he suggested. ‘It takes twenty-one days to form a habit.’
‘It actually takes sixty-six days,’ Cecelia corrected. ‘So there isn’t time for that. But thanks for offering.’ And then she smiled, something Cecelia so rarely did.
Rather, she rarely smiled properly, but now, as she did so, Luka watched as she checked herself midway and it dimmed.
For Luka, the fading of her smile felt like summer was ending.
It was, of course.
In a few weeks’ time summer would be gone.
Of course it would come around again, but this summer, this one, would never return.
‘Was Gordon upset when you finished with him?’ Luka asked. ‘And before you tell me that it’s private, I know it is.’
‘So why ask now?’
‘Because you’re the best PA I’ve ever had, and I didn’t want to push you into leaving by getting too personal, but now that you’ve already resigned I don’t have to behave.’
‘Yes, you do,’ Cecelia said, and though her voice remained even there was a flurry of nerves low in her stomach as to what her boldness today had unleashed.
So she answered the question.
‘Yes, he was upset, although, to be honest, I think he was more embarrassed than upset.’
‘No, I imagine he was very upset,’ Luka said in his deep, low voice, and met her eyes. Suddenly the cool breeze from the river felt like a warm one.
At
