Claiming His Hidden Heir Read online

  ‘So I read!’ Sabine said.

  Cecelia had been doing her level best not to read about him, but once the interviews were wrapped up she found that she could not resist.

  The headlines were all in the same vein: Xanero Magnate Returns.

  It would seem that the weekend had been spent out on his yacht and she knew full well what went on on board.

  She clicked on the article and there were the glossy beauties that always surrounded him and the sun hanging low in a fiery sky.

  Luka didn’t even wait for nightfall to get a party started.

  It wasn’t just the resumption of his sex life that concerned her, though—oh, but it did, desperately it did—but also what had happened that morning between them.

  Cecelia could not believe she’d had unprotected sex. Though she kept willing herself calm, yesterday she had caved and made an appointment with her GP.

  At the conclusion of the interview today Cecelia was heading there.

  ‘Well, thank you for coming in,’ Cecelia said as she walked Sabine to the elevator. ‘You can expect to hear from me by the end of the week.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to it.’ Sabine smiled and the women shook hands.

  Cecelia really didn’t like her, but it would seem she was the only one to feel so.

  ‘She seems really nice,’ Bridgette commented as Cecelia walked back from the elevator.

  Yes, it was probably for rather personal reasons that she didn’t like her, Cecelia guessed, and decided that she would be putting Sabine forward.

  Luka could make the final call.

  ‘I’m going out for a couple of hours,’ she told Bridgette. ‘I won’t have my phone on.’

  ‘What should I say if Luka calls because he can’t get hold of you?’ Bridgette checked, because his PA was always supposed to be available.

  ‘Tell him I’m...’ She didn’t know what to say. ‘Tell him I’m taking a long lunch.’

  Lunch didn’t come into it.

  Instead, she took the underground until she was practically home and spent the next hour sitting in the waiting room at her GP’s surgery.

  Cecelia was rarely there and finally, when her name was called, she rather hoped she would be in and out in a few minutes with her mind eased.

  Dr Heale introduced herself and Cecelia told her the reason she was there.

  ‘It’s probably nothing,’ Cecelia started. ‘In fact, I’m sure I’m wasting your time...’

  ‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’

  Very well.

  Why was discussing sex always so awkward for her? The shame came from her aunt and uncle, Cecelia knew. They spoke in whispers and were still mortified by the salacious circumstances in which her mother had died.

  Cecelia did her best to push all that aside and to speak in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘I had unprotected sex last week.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘On Monday night,’ Cecelia said. ‘Or rather on the Tuesday morning.’

  ‘You’re on the Pill?’ Dr Heale checked, reading through her notes.

  ‘Yes,’ Cecelia said, ‘though I usually take my Pill at night...’

  ‘And you didn’t?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, you’ve left it too late for the morning-after pill.’

  She hadn’t really thought about it the morning after, but now Dr Heale was telling her that she’d had a window of a week.

  That window was closed to her now.

  ‘But it’s probably fine?’ Cecelia pushed, only Dr Heale wasn’t exactly rushing to put her at ease; in fact, she was reading Cecelia’s notes.

  ‘Are you still with your fiancé?’ she asked.

  Cecelia remembered the last time she had been there, carefully going on the Pill before she and Gordon did anything.

  There had certainly been no up-against-the-wall sex with him!

  ‘Er, no.’

  ‘Do you have a new partner?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ Cecelia croaked. ‘It was a one-off, well...’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Dr Heale said. ‘But with a casual encounter it is, of course, more important that you’re careful.’

  She was right, except there was nothing casual about Cecelia’s feelings for Luka.

  And there was that sting of shame again—not that Dr Heale turned a hair. If anything, she was very practical.

  ‘Perhaps, while you’re here, we should run a sexual health check,’ she suggested.

  It looked like Cecelia would not be in and out in a couple of minutes; in fact, she returned from lunch a full hour late.

  ‘Luka’s been calling the office,’ Bridgette warned. ‘And he’s not best pleased that your mobile’s turned off.’

  He certainly had been calling, Cecelia thought when she turned it back on. She had barely sat down before he called again.

  ‘How was the dentist?’ he asked, and there was an edge to Luka’s voice for he was quite sure where she had been.

  ‘Excuse me?’ Cecelia flared.

  ‘You’re the one making up excuses. Were you off visiting your new office? Or perhaps having lunch with your new boss—whoever that may be?’

  ‘No,’ Cecelia calmly responded. ‘I had an appointment. Now, what can I do for you?’

  You can get here, Luka wanted to answer.

  He had never had to chase or pursue, and the one woman who could have made him feel better had distanced herself from him.

  ‘How did the second-round interviews go?’

  ‘Very well. I have a shortlist of three for you to interview.’

  ‘Bring them in early next week.’

  ‘So you’ll be back on Monday?’ Cecelia checked.

  But Luka had already rung off.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CECELIA KNEW HE was back the very second she stepped out of the elevator.

  That tangy citrus scent of him had never really left the place but it was stronger today.

  There was a knot of tight nerves in her stomach and she had no idea how to play this. She sensed he had come out of his office as she hung up her jacket, and this was confirmed when she heard him speak.

  ‘Hi.’

  His voice was low and deep and, though expected, she still had to fight not to jump. Instead she turned around at his greeting.

  He looked amazing, and even if he had gone home to deal with a difficult situation it was clear there had been time spent in the sun.

  ‘Hi, Luka.’

  ‘How are things?’

  ‘Great. But Mr Garcia is insisting that you speak with him today.’

  ‘Tell him I can fit him in tomorrow.’

  ‘Very well,’ Cecelia said as she held in a sigh. ‘And you have the applicants for my replacement coming in between two and four.’

  ‘Good.’

  He’d hoped she might reconsider, given what had taken place, but deep down he knew she wouldn’t have.

  Cecelia was professional, and even Luka, who in the past had happily slept with his PA, knew that a line had been crossed and that it would be impossible to go back to the way they had been.

  For once he did not want to talk about work.

  Neither did he want to hit the computer.

  After a hellish two weeks at home, quite simply he wanted to take her to bed.

  Instead, there was a lot to do.

  The head of his legal team was in and out of his office all morning, and Marco, head of accounting, was there too. From what she could glean, Luka was looking to sever business ties with his father.

  As his mother battled cancer!

  Luka’s ruthlessness made her shiver.

  It was approaching one o’clock when Cecelia told him that an apartment she had seen would be available for him to view this evening.

  ‘I shan’t be going ahead with that.’

  ‘Oh.’

  He had asked his mother to come to London and concentrate on surviving but the answer had been no.

  She had at least agreed to have trea
tments in Athens, on the condition she could return home after each course.

  Luka rather guessed they were his father’s conditions but his efforts to persuade her otherwise had fallen on deaf ears.

  At least she wasn’t simply giving up now, but Luka knew that he had to do more.

  He had spent the morning testing the legal waters with his team, but it would be long and protracted to have his father forcibly removed as joint owner.

  And he did not want the extra stress on his mother.

  In fact, Luka, who dreaded going home, even for the occasional weekend, was starting to realise that Xanero might soon have to act as his base, at least for a while.

  ‘You said one of the applicants spoke Greek?’ Luka checked.

  ‘Yes, Sabine.’

  ‘And she is okay with extensive travel?’

  ‘Yes.’ Cecelia nodded. ‘But, Luka, I really think Kelly, the first applicant, is more suitable.’

  ‘Does she speak Greek?’

  ‘No,’ Cecelia said, ‘but then neither do I.’

  ‘There’s a lot of things you don’t do,’ Luka said, and from the curl of his mouth and the charge in the air, the meaning was explicitly clear.

  ‘Don’t!’ Cecelia warned. She had been wondering how they would play this and if the past would be politely ignored—well, clearly not.

  And Cecelia was furious.

  ‘I’m the best bloody PA you have ever had and don’t you dare forget it. Just because I won’t hop on a plane to Xanero for a shag...’ Her face was on fire as he stared right back and gave her a black smile, so she upped it. ‘Or get down on my knees and blow you under the desk...’ She knew he was hard and she was wet too, but, hell, he had brought it to work, and she wasn’t going to back down now. ‘It doesn’t mean I’m not brilliant at my work. Don’t forget that, Luka.’

  He was saved from a smart answer when her phone rang and Cecelia glanced at it to see who was calling.

  ‘Go ahead,’ Luka said, but Cecelia shook her head.

  ‘It’s fine.’

  She would not be taking a call from her doctor in front of Luka, especially given the nature of the tests last week! Instead she excused herself, returned to the privacy of her desk and called the surgery.

  ‘This is Cecelia Andrews,’ she said to the receptionist. ‘A message was left, asking me to call.’

  ‘One moment, please.’

  It was closer to two moments and they were possibly the longest of her life.

  ‘The doctor would like to see you to go over your test results.’

  ‘I’m actually at work and it’s terribly hard to get away. If I could speak with the doctor...’

  ‘We have a policy that we don’t give results over the phone. I have a vacancy next Monday at two fifteen.’

  ‘Monday!’ Cecelia yelped. There was no way she could wait.

  ‘Actually, there’s just been a cancellation for today at one thirty. If you can get here by then, it’s yours.’

  ‘I shall,’ Cecelia said, and did her best to remember her manners as the world imploded on her. ‘And thank you.’

  Luka came out then with work on his mind. ‘If you could call the Athens team now...’

  ‘It’s my lunch break,’ Cecelia cut in, and Luka blinked.

  ‘Well, get something sent up and eat at your desk. I need this sorted.’

  ‘Luka,’ she said, ‘I’m entitled to a lunch break, and I’m taking it.’

  She was panicking now, remembering his salacious past and what that could mean for her.

  She headed to the bathroom and when she returned he saw that she had redone her hair and refreshed her make-up.

  ‘Good luck,’ he said as she walked out.

  ‘Excuse me?’ She turned around, wondering if he had guessed where she was going.

  ‘With your new boss.’ His voice was tart. ‘I assume that’s where you’re headed.’

  Cecelia said nothing.

  ‘Just make sure you’re back on time. I believe you’re entitled to an hour.’

  She hated this.

  Cecelia absolutely hated this. She should never have got involved with her boss and now everything had changed.

  Bristling, Cecelia took the elevator down and with no time to lose she raced for the underground and made it just in time for her appointment, where they asked her to give another urine sample.

  And then she sat for the longest half-hour of her life, thumbing blindly through magazines.

  Until suddenly her eye was caught by a shot of Luka, pelvis to pelvis with some beauty and dancing the night away in Barcelona. Admittedly, it was an old magazine, though it was not the type of thing she needed to see right now.

  ‘Cecelia Andrews?’

  She put down the magazine and stood up, deciding she would kill him with her bare hands if he’d given her anything.

  It was the same doctor she had seen the previous week and Cecelia sat as Dr Heale went through her notes.

  ‘I’ve had a look through your results and I thought it better that I see you face to face.’

  Cecelia felt her heart plummet.

  ‘All the health checks came back clear. However, I asked you to repeat the urine specimen as your BHCG came back as elevated.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Cecelia asked, her mind swinging from one horror to another.

  ‘It’s very early days,’ the doctor said, ‘but the second test confirms that you are pregnant.’

  ‘The other tests...?’ Cecelia asked for she could not take it in.

  ‘They’re all clear.’

  ‘But I’m on the Pill—’ Cecelia started, but then the high horse she had been sitting on while blaming Luka for any misfortune that might come to bear on her shifted.

  This predicament really was down to her.

  She had missed a pill, and at the very least should have looked into the morning-after pill while there was still time for it to be effective.

  A baby was the very last thing Cecelia wanted.

  She would be a single mother.

  Just like her mum.

  And she would be single, that much she could guarantee.

  ‘I’m only just, though...’ Cecelia vainly attempted, unsure what she was even saying. ‘Two weeks.’

  ‘Four weeks,’ the doctor clarified. ‘Your levels are spot on. It’s calculated from the first day of your last period.’

  Cecelia screwed her eyes closed. A little over two weeks ago they hadn’t even kissed.

  Yet now she was being told that she was four weeks pregnant.

  By Luka Kargas who was, by any account, the biggest rake known.

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ Cecelia admitted. ‘I honestly don’t know how I feel.’

  ‘Of course you don’t,’ Dr Heale said. ‘Why don’t you make an appointment with me for next week and by then the news will have had time to sink in a bit.’

  Cecelia did just that and then she made her way out of the clinic. She stood on the busy London street full of people who were carrying on with their day, oblivious to the bombshell that had dropped on her world.

  She wiped her cheeks with her hand and only then did Cecelia realise she was crying.

  It was as if all her emotions were in full flight, for there were tears and her heart was hammering in her chest, yet Cecelia was barely aware of them.

  ‘Numb.’

  She said it out loud just to hear her own voice and to clarify that it was how she felt.

  Numb.

  She could hear her phone ringing but it did not even enter her head to answer it. Instead she walked and walked through London streets, carrying her bag in her hand rather than in its usual position over her shoulder.

  A baby?

  It had not been in her plans—at least, not her current plans.

  Even when she and Gordon had spoken about one day having children it had been a sort of dim and distant thing in the far-away future, and even then she hadn’t really been able to picture it.

 
; Her career was the most important thing in her life. It was the only thing she really had, but how the hell was she going to be able to carry on with it with a baby?

  Luka would carry on.

  A baby wouldn’t affect his career.

  The numbness was fading and the sting of sensation was coming back as she briefly envisaged Luka’s reaction if she told him the news.

  And the aftermath.

  She had worked with him for almost a year and knew the bastard he could be. As recently as this morning he’d had his legal and accounting teams working out how to screw over his own father.

  She could not stand to think of the meeting that would take place about her if he found out about the baby!

  Cecelia walked into a bar and ordered a glass of water. She sat on a stool but the world would not stop spinning.

  She started a new job in a couple of weeks’ time.

  It was only a six-month contract, though.

  Which would take her up to seven months pregnant.

  Really, she could not have planned it better, except she had not planned on being pregnant at all.

  Her phone was ringing again and, unthinking, she answered it.

  ‘Where the hell are you?’ Luka demanded. ‘Bridgette’s gone home with a migraine and I’m playing receptionist to my potential PAs!’

  ‘You’ll have to manage without me,’ Cecelia said, for there was no way she could go back to work this afternoon and face him. Even keeping her voice remotely normal was taking a supreme effort.

  He heard the chink of glasses and a burst of laughter in the background and the effort behind her words. He could picture her with her new boss, all cosy on some sofa in a club. ‘You still have two weeks left to serve your notice, Cecelia. I suggest that you get back here now.’

  ‘And I just told you that I can’t.’

  She was not being defiant, there was just absolutely no way she could make it into work.

  He rang off and Cecelia sat watching a woman wheeling in her baby in a pram, wrestling with the glass doors.

  It was not her world.

  Meanwhile, Luka sat and stared at his phone.

  It was not a world he was used to either and, as Luka quickly found out, rejection was certainly not his forte.

  He did not kill her with kindness.

  Cecelia arrived at work the following morning and nodded to the doorman.