Page 12 of Royal Caleva: Luis

“Eve. Thank you. And I am Luis.” He had a smooth baritone voice and, like Mikel, a slight Spanish accent. “I appreciate your willingness to meet with me on short notice. I know this must be something of a shock to you.” His smile took on a rueful cast. “It was a shock to me as well, but of the most miraculous kind. Shall we sit?”

He swept his hand toward the seating area, and something about the gesture gave her that nag of familiarity again. Yet she was sure she had never met him before.

Who is he?

Mikel Silva had said Luis was a prominent person, so maybe she had seen him in the media. She snuck a sideways glance at him as she sank onto the sofa again, trying to chase down his identity.

He waited until she had settled before he seated himself in a chair, his back ramrod straight and his hands resting on the arms as though he sat on a throne rather than an ugly orange chair.

A throne.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “You’re the King of Caleva.”

He had been in the news recently because of the wildly successful music festival in his country. Grace’s favorite rock star, Kyran Redda, had been the headliner, so they—and Redda’s millions of other fans around the world—had watched the festival on television. The king had introduced Redda at the concert, and Eve had commented to Grace that Caleva’s ruler was a sexy silver fox. The cameras had loved him, too, because they had often panned to show him sitting in his box, applauding Redda’s performance.

She realized what she had said out loud and embarrassment scorched her cheeks. “Oh my God, I shouldn’t have…”

Now she understood Silva’s secrecy and the DNA test. She also understood that she was dealing with a man way out of her league.

Did he expect her to stand and curtsy? That would seem weird and awkward, especially since she had never curtsied before in her life. But maybe it was required when one met a king.

“Please. Here, now, I am just Luis Dragón.” He looked…resigned, his smile slipping a bit. “A man who is overjoyed to discover that he has a daughter he did not know existed.”

“But you’re the King of Caleva. How… Why… I don’t understand.” Confusion took away coherent speech as she tried to connect Grace with Caleva’s monarch. “I mean…I don’t know where to start.”

Was this some kind of elaborate prank? Did this man just look like the King of Caleva? But why would anyone go to all this trouble to prank her?

Or maybe it was a scam of some kind. But she had no money—only debt—so why would anyone bother to set up such an elaborate plot? If anything, it should go the other way around, where she would try to claim Grace was the king’s daughter to get some of his vast fortune from him. Which would be so far-fetched no one would consider doing such a thing.

“I understand that it seems strange that my infant daughter found her way to Iowa,” Luis said. “From what I have learned, though, she was very fortunate that you adopted her.”

The compliment sounded sincere. “She was a gift to me, but thank you.” Eve shook her head, trying to settle her whirling thoughts. “How did this happen?”

“It is not a pretty story.” For a moment, he stared out the window, obviously not seeing anything but the past. He brought his gaze back to her. It was daunting to have those ice-blue eyes locked on her with utter focus. “When I was in my twenties, my father, King Carlo, was diagnosed with glioblastoma. Knowing he had only a short time to live, he asked me to marry, which I did. It was a political marriage, and my wife was emotionally…fragile in ways I didn’t understand until too late.” Sorrow dragged at the corners of his mouth. “Sofia became pregnant and gave birth to my son, Raul, but she struggled with postpartum depression. My father died shortly after Raul’s birth, so Sofia also had to endure the weight of a state funeral and a coronation. Six months later, the car she was driving went off a cliff in what was ruled an accident.”

Wow. He was almost admitting that his wife committed suicide. Why? To manipulate her into feeling pity for him? “I’m so sorry,” she said.

He waved one hand in a way that was both acceptance and dismissal. “It was a long time ago. I have learned to live with my responsibility.”

He meant it. He felt responsible for his wife’s death. She couldn’t help feeling a little sad for him.

“Time dulls pain but doesn’t erase it.” She knew that from her own experience.

He gave a small nod. “It was a difficult time. That is my only excuse for the poor judgment I showed when I chose to have an affair with the woman who is Grace’s mother.”

He became father, king, and widower in one short period of time. That could excuse a lot. It was strange to feel sympathy for this powerful man, but she did.

“We all make mistakes,” she said, thinking of her own failed marriage.

His smile held no humor. “My mistakes reverberate.”

She nodded as though she understood his issues, but she was more concerned about Grace’s. “This woman got pregnant and didn’t tell you? That seems strange since you certainly had the means to take care of a child.”

This was the crux of his story. Why?

Before he could answer, an ugly thought struck Eve. He was a king. “Was it because Grace was illegitimate? Would you not have wanted her because she couldn’t inherit the throne? Or because she would be a public relations problem?” She couldn’t keep the accusation out of her voice.

Luis’s features tightened as though she had slapped him. “I am here because I want her,” he said harshly. “I would always want my child, no matter what the circumstances of her birth were.” He snapped his mouth shut and took a breath before he said in a softer tone, “My apologies. Your questions were quite reasonable, given the circumstances.”

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