Claiming His Hidden Heir: Claiming His Hidden Heir

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 (#u245a72a6-f6f3-5e34-95b9-5db1f3a65382)

‘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.