her desk, for he had opened her eyes to sensations that should surely remain unexplored.
Oh, she should never have taken the job, Cecelia thought as Luka persisted with a conversation she would rather draw to a close.
‘But don’t you ever get tired of doing the same old thing?’ he asked.
‘I like the same old things,’ Cecelia answered.
He glanced at her neat, ordered desk and knew that the inside of her drawers would look exactly the same.
And then, just to annoy her, just to provoke some reaction, he picked up her little pottery jar that held her pens and things and moved it to the other side of her desk. ‘Live a little.’
‘No, thank you.’ She smiled grimly and moved the jar back where it belonged. As she did so he got the scent of freshly washed hair.
That was it.
Cecelia didn’t wear perfume; there were no undertones that he could note, and not just in her scent.
She was impossible to read, unlike any woman Luka had ever met. He had long ago given up flirting with her—the disapproval in her eyes kind of ruined the fun.
And as reckless as he was, Luka only ever played with the willing.
‘You look nice,’ he told her, and he felt the scold of her slight frown for daring to comment on something personal. Cecelia kept things very strictly business, yet she responded politely.
‘Thank you.’
But Luka did not leave it there. ‘You’re wearing a dress.’
‘That’s very observant of you, Luka.’
‘I’m just mentioning it because you don’t usually.’
‘Well, it’s been a long, warm weekend. I couldn’t face wearing a suit.’
‘No, but—’
‘Luka,’ Cecelia interrupted him, ‘if you have an issue with me dressing more casually than normal, then please just say so and it won’t happen again.’
‘I have no issue with you wearing a dress.’
‘Then there’s nothing to discuss.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ Luka said. He hadn’t intended to address this today but clearly the moment was upon them.
‘What I wear—’ Cecelia started to say, but then Luka cut in.
‘Do you have another dental appointment today, Cecelia?’ His voice had changed and he delivered his words with a threatening edge by using her correct name. ‘A final interview perhaps?’
He was rather certain that she was leaving, and more certain now because to her pale cheeks there came a very rare flush.
PAs came and went.
Luka was very used to that.
He was an exceptionally demanding boss and was aware that few could keep up with his impossible schedule for very long.
Usually all he required was for the incumbent PA to train the next one to standard before she left and ensure that the handover was seamless.
That Cecelia might be about to leave, though, brought a sense of disquiet like nothing he had known.
He liked her in his life, Luka realised, and he didn’t want her to be gone. But three prolonged dental appointments in recent weeks had served as ominous signs, and he’d been certain of it when she had avoided discussing the renewal of her contract.
‘Is there something you’ve been meaning to tell me?’ he asked.
‘Actually, yes.’ She took a breath and then glanced over at the sound of the elevator door opening and saw that Bridgette had arrived.
Cecelia did not want an audience for this.
‘Would it be possible to have a word in private?’
‘Of course,’ Luka said. ‘You know my door is always closed.’ When she didn’t smile at his little joke he stood from the desk. ‘Come on through.’
Luka decided he would have to talk her out of it.
And he knew just how to do it.
IT FELT LIKE a very long walk to his office.
Luka led the way and Cecelia actually felt a little sick because she still wasn’t certain that it was the right thing to do.
Cecelia was very career minded and knew that by resigning she was throwing an amazing role away—Luka’s empire was rapidly expanding, with hotels in New York City and Singapore on the cards, and to be a part of it would be amazing on her résumé.
But as he held open the door and she walked in, Cecelia knew she had little choice but to leave.
She could feel his eyes on her back.
On her skin.
They most certainly were.
Cecelia had the drabbest wardrobe he had ever seen.
Granted, she was always groomed and elegant, but Luka had long ago decided that she could make a modest outfit out of a handkerchief.
Not so today.
On the day she would tell him that she was leaving, he got the first glimpse of her spine.
Her back was incredibly pale, and he wondered if she should check her Vitamin D levels because he was sure that body rarely, if ever, saw the sun.
Luka had run into her out of work once and she’d been dressed in much the same monotonous, drab tones.
It had been at a museum exhibition a couple of weeks after she had started working for him, and not quite by accident. Luka had heard her discussing going with her fiancé and he’d wanted to see what made Cecelia tick, sexually speaking.
Pale English men, with skinny legs apparently.
They hadn’t even been holding hands and had stood as politely as two strangers while admiring an incredibly erotic work of art.
She’d jumped when she’d seen him, though! And blushed just a touch as she’d introduced Gordon to him.
And all the more Luka had wanted to know her in bed.
‘Please,’ he said now. ‘Take a seat.’
Luka gestured to a chair and then went around his desk while Cecelia took her seat.
And then she faced him.
He
