Claiming His Hidden Heir: Claiming His Hidden Heir

Cecelia knew, absolutely, how it would end—indifference, then avoidance—for she had seen it all too many times, and the trouble was that she did not know how she would recover.

She had never felt such violent emotions about someone before.

Luka Kargas was her one weakness and that would never do.

And so, after their gorgeous riverside dinner, they took the elevator back up in silence. Back in the office, she went to set up for the meeting that had been rescheduled and delayed over and over again. She made sure his notes were on his desk and she tried to ignore the rich scent of him as she chatted online with Stacey, who was Mr Garcia’s PA.

‘He’s going to be another half-hour,’ Stacey said, and Cecelia inwardly groaned for she just wanted this day to be over with. ‘Are you able—?’ Her voice cut off and the screen went black, and only then did Cecelia register that Luka had deliberately turned the computer off.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ she asked.

‘I don’t like to be kept waiting.’

‘But you were the one who cancelled this morning’s meeting.’

‘So...’ Luka shrugged ‘...tomorrow you can say that we lost the connection. I can’t sit through a meeting about figures now.’

‘Fine,’ Cecelia snapped.

This bloody meeting had been moved and delayed so many times that she wondered how anyone did business with him.

Yet she knew the answer.

Luka was brilliant.

And they would wait.

‘I want to talk to you,’ Luka said.

‘Is it about work?’ Cecelia asked.

‘No.’

‘Then there’s nothing to discuss. I’ll go and pack for you,’ Cecelia said. ‘And then I’ll be off.’

She headed to his suite.

Usually it took five minutes to pack for him as she had it down pat, but he wasn’t going away for business and his wardrobe here consisted mainly of suits, shirts and ties.

She stood in his suite looking at his wardrobe for a moment as if more choices might appear, and then headed out.

He was sitting on her desk, as he had been this morning, only she chose not to sit down this time.

‘I don’t know what to pack,’ she admitted. ‘Are you staying here tonight?’

Luka nodded.

‘Then I can go to your apartment and select a more casual wardrobe. I’ll bring your luggage in with me in the morning.’

‘Sure.’

She picked up her bag and gave him a tight smile. ‘Thank you for dinner and cake and my gorgeous present.’

‘You’re most welcome.’

His dark eyes met hers and she wondered if she should give him a kiss on the cheek to thank him, just as she would anyone else who had given her such a nice night and gift.

Only he was not anyone.

But tonight of all nights, her hard-won control slipped and she leant in and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

She merely brushed the skin of his cheek with her lips, and she even held her breath to lessen the impact the gesture would have on her senses. She would taste him later; in the elevator she would run her tongue over her lips and recall the warmth of his skin on her mouth.

And she would recall too the ache in her breast at the mere graze against his shirt.

She pulled back and her bag bit into her shoulder as she ached to drop it to the floor and give in to her craving for this man.

Luka did not want to get this wrong.

He read women with ease, and his kiss was so rarely refused—yet with her he could not be certain.

She had chastised him with her eyes on so many occasions, he could almost feel the sting of the slap she would deliver if he put so much as a finger wrong.

It would be worth it, Luka decided.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Cecelia said, her voice a touch high as she willed her legs to move and take her from danger.

Yet, and yet... ‘But if you need anything before that...’

She had said the same words a hundred times before—or was it a thousand times?—but they sounded different tonight.

His response was different tonight too. ‘I need to be with you.’

No slap was delivered, she just stared back. And right when she thought she might finally know his kiss, instead his hands came to her arms.

‘Aren’t you going to try it on?’

She thought again of those slender dark fingers in her hair and his mouth near her cheek as he did the clasp, only this time, instead of refusing, she nodded.

‘Let me help,’ Luka said. He took her bag from her shoulder and retrieved the present and then dropped the bag to the floor.

He slowly prised open the box and as she watched his long finger run over the stones and she felt as if he was stroking her on the inside.

Luka could hear the trip in her breathing and felt the charge in the air; he breathed in the scent of seduction. For that was what she did, Luka concluded—without so much as a word or a move, she seduced.

‘Turn around,’ Luka said, and he moved from lounging against her desk.

Cecelia did so.