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
