style="font-size:15px;"> That little hint of his silken charm carried from his lips and sent a slow shiver the length of Cecelia’s spine.
‘I’d better get back to the office,’ Cecelia said, ‘and set up for your meeting.’
But he would prefer to linger.
The changing world was waiting and it was nice to be here by the river.
With her.
‘Garcia can wait,’ Luka said.
‘One day he might get tired of waiting.’
‘I doubt it,’ Luka said. ‘Right now he wants to wrap up the purchase.’
‘I thought you wanted a hotel in New York City.’
‘I do,’ Luka said, ‘but at a price of my choosing. Anyway, we need to talk about your replacement.’
‘I’ve informed the agency you generally use,’ Cecelia said, and Luka frowned.
‘You weren’t referred via them?’
‘No.’ Cecelia shook her head.
‘Ah, that’s right, you were working for Justin. How did you end up with him?’
‘Via the agency,’ Cecelia said, and she itched to get back and away from his gaze but Luka wasn’t letting her go just yet.
‘How did you become a PA?’
More questions, Cecelia thought, but this wasn’t such a personal one and so she was a little freer in her response. ‘I never intended to be. When I finished school I had wanted to travel,’ she told him, ‘or go to university, but...’ Cecelia hesitated. ‘My uncle had a friend who needed a nanny in France. I spoke French—well, a little—and he said that way I’d get to travel and work at the same time.’
‘The trust fund ran out, you mean.’
‘Sorry?’ Cecelia blinked.
‘They would have received money to raise you, but once you turned eighteen—’
‘No,’ Cecelia interrupted. ‘It wasn’t like that at all.’ She shook her head. ‘They were very good to take me in.’
‘Did they have children?’
‘No,’ Cecelia said, and she swallowed because she believed they had very much been childless by choice.
Luka’s comments needled for she had always felt rather in the way with her aunt and uncle, not that she’d admit it to him. ‘My uncle had a contact who needed a nanny.’
‘Really, Cece! You? A nanny?’
He could not imagine the very crisp and proper Cecelia working with children and he actually smiled at the very thought, parting those gorgeous lips to show his pearly white teeth.
Gosh, he had such a nice mouth.
‘I hated it,’ Cecelia admitted. ‘I lasted four weeks before I gave notice, but then the mother, a television producer, asked if I could work for her instead. I guess it all started from there.’
‘Do you still see your aunt and uncle?’
‘Of course,’ Cecelia said confidently, although inside she wavered for it had always been her making the effort rather than them.
They hadn’t so much as sent a text for her birthday.
Perhaps a card would have arrived in the mail when she got home.
Or there would be flowers on her doorstep.
Yet she knew there wouldn’t be.
Her birthday had passed by unnoticed again and it hurt.
She would not let Luka see it, of course, but his comment about the trust-fund money drying up had perturbed her.
‘Do you want dessert?’ he asked, knowing the answer.
‘No, thank you.’
‘Tough,’ Luka said. ‘You’re getting one.’
She went to ask what he meant but at that moment the background music wafting out of the restaurant changed to a very familiar tune and she turned as she saw a waiter with a slice of cake and atop it a candle.
The tune was ‘Happy Birthday’!
And it was being played for her.
‘Luka...’
Cecelia was embarrassed.
Pleased.
And utterly caught by surprise.
No one remembered her birthday.
Ever.
As a child, it had fallen in the school holidays and her mother had only liked grown-up parties, certainly not the type Cecelia had dreamed of. And after she had died, Cecelia hadn’t readily made friends. In fact, at boarding school she had been endlessly teased and bullied.
At eighteen, her aunt and uncle had given up on the perfunctory birthday card and last-minute present, which had always, always been something she needed rather than something she might want.
This was the first time that she’d truly been spoiled on her birthday.
There were two spoons and the cake was completely delectable—vanilla sponge drizzled in thick lemon syrup that was both tart and refreshing.
And she was sharing dessert on her birthday with him.
Luka Kargas.
Cecelia was almost scared to look up for she was worried there might be tears in her eyes.
‘Here,’ Luka said, ‘is the other reason I came into the office today.’
Now Cecelia did look up as he went into his jacket and pulled out a gorgeous parcel and slid it across the table.
It was a long box wrapped in deep red velvet and tied with ribbon that had a little gold charm attached to it.
And she frowned because Cecelia recognised the packaging.
On one overseas trip, she had enjoyed staring into the window of a lavish boutique in the foyer of a Florence hotel where they had been staying. Whenever she’d been waiting for Luka, she had indulged herself with the joy of admiring the beautiful jewellery.
She pulled back the bow, but first she had a question for she didn’t quite believe what Luka had said. ‘You didn’t really come in just because it’s my birthday?’
‘Of course I did. I always try to do the right thing on my PA’s birthday.’
Luka knew full
