‘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 voice was curt. ‘My mother is ill.’
With his flight arranged, Luka rang Sophie Kargas and told her that her only child would be back tomorrow.
‘One thing,’ Luka said. ‘I shan’t be there to hold your hand and watch you give in. You’re going to fight this.’
‘Luka, I’m tired, I don’t want any fuss. I just want you to come home.’
He could hear the defeat in her voice and he knew only too well the reason. The treatment would mean regular trips to Athens and Theo Kargas liked his wife to be at home.
Yes, it was a very long and difficult day spent avoiding each other as best they could but the tension hung heavy in the air at the office.
‘I have your mother on the phone,’ Cecelia said as afternoon gave way to evening.
‘Tell her I’m in a meeting.’
‘Of course.’
He really was a bastard, Cecelia decided as she relayed the message to the feeble-sounding woman.
‘But I just need to speak with him for a moment.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Cecelia said. ‘Luka can’t take any calls right now. I know he’s busy trying to clear up as much of his schedule as he can today.’
Luka sat with his hands behind his head and his feet on the desk.
He could not face speaking to his mother again today and hearing how she had as good as given up on life.
Well, he would deal with all that tomorrow, for what Luka had to say would be better said face to face.
Leave him.
It wouldn’t be the first time he had said it to his mother, but he hoped it would be the last.
Always he had hoped that his father would die first, if only to afford his mother some peace.
He glanced at the time and saw that it was approaching seven.
The meeting with Garcia was now scheduled for ten.
Luka got up and put on his jacket and then headed out of the office.
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.
‘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