Page 11 of Royal Caleva: Luis

“Ms. Howard, thank you for coming.” A wiry, dark-haired man stood with his back to the window, so his face was in shadow. He started toward her with his hand held out. “I’m Mikel Silva. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

The way he moved reminded her of a hunting cat, attention laser-focused, muscles coiled to spring in any direction. He wore a charcoal suit, white shirt, and maroon tie, all precisely fitted but not attention-catching.

As he came away from the backlighting of the window, she could see that his smile reached his eyes, making their pale blue look almost warm. She judged him to be in his forties. When he shook her hand, his grip was firm but unthreatening. Yet she had the sense that—like the receptionist—he was tamping down his real strength. “Nice to meet you too,” she said.

“Please.” He gestured toward a seating area holding a beige love seat, glass-topped coffee table, and two chairs upholstered in rust-colored fabric. On the coffee table sat a tray with two carafes, a pitcher of water, mugs, and glasses. “May I offer you tea, coffee, or water?”

She caught a faint accent in his voice. Spanish, she guessed, given his name.

“No, thank you.” She seated herself on one chair, tucking her skirt over her knees. “I’d like to know why you wanted to talk with me, Mr. Silva.” And who the hell you are.

“Mikel, please.” Humor glinted in his eyes. “This is why I enjoy Americans. They get straight to the point.” He filled two glasses with water before he sat back on the love seat. “I have come here on behalf of someone else. He is a prominent person and feels it would be less…overwhelming if I speak with you first.”

The nebulous sense of dread dragged at her breathing. She nodded.

Mikel clasped his hands on his knees and locked his gaze with hers. “Ms. Howard, I come to you because the person whom I represent has recently discovered that he has a daughter. We believe that child to be your adopted daughter, Grace.”

The dread forced itself out in a gasp as shock tightened her chest. She had always wondered if this day would come.

“As you can imagine,” Mikel continued, “her father would very much like to meet your daughter. However, he feels strongly that he should speak with you first. You will know how best to approach your daughter so she is not upset by the revelation.”

“I appreciate his tact.” She did, but at the moment, Eve was the upset one. She had been Grace’s only parent for so many years, trying to fill the place of both mother and father after the divorce, fighting to give her daughter everything she deserved on a vet tech’s salary and the tiny amount of child support her ex had grudgingly paid. Now a total stranger wanted to waltz into Grace’s life after Eve had raised her beautiful, brilliant daughter almost entirely on her own. Who the hell does he think he is?

“All I know is that the father’s name listed on the birth certificate is Luis Dragón, but I always thought the birth mother made that up,” Eve said. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t use her real name either.”

“His name is the one thing the birth mother did not lie about,” Mikel said.

“Who is he, then? Where does he live? Why didn’t he know about Grace before?” So many questions that she needed answers to. Since Mikel had that slight accent, perhaps Grace’s biological father was from another country.

“It would be best if he answers those questions himself,” Mikel said. “There is also the issue of confirming that Grace is truly his daughter. Because of his prominent position, it is necessary to perform a DNA test.”

He didn’t shift a millimeter, but Eve could tell he was watching her reaction as she tried to sort through how she felt about such an intrusive request. Why did Grace need to prove anything to her father? Silva had sought out Grace, not the other way around. The burden of proof should fall on him. “How did he find out about Grace in the first place?”

“Grace’s birth mother told him, but only recently.”

Why had Grace’s birth mother kept that a secret? Was the father a criminal? Abusive? An addict of some sort? Had the mother been protecting her infant daughter? Fear clenched a fist in her throat. Eve had handled rabid dogs. She could face down a mere human, even if he had some high-level position in the world.

Eve picked up a glass of water and swallowed a mouthful to loosen up her throat. “And why do you doubt the biological mother’s word about Grace’s father?”

Mikel’s face tightened. “She is not a reliable source.” He seemed to make a decision. “Would you be open to meeting Grace’s father? He will be able to both explain his position and reassure you.”

“I—” Who could this highly important person be? “Yes, of course.” For Grace’s sake, she needed to gauge what kind of man this Luis was. Not that she could stop him from contacting Grace if he wished to. Grace was an adult.

“He would very much like to meet you as well,” Mikel said. “He is waiting in the office next door. I know this must be something of a shock. If you need a few minutes…”

Putting it off would only wind the anxiety tighter. She shook her head. “Let’s get this done.”

Although Grace was an adult now, Eve found she didn’t want to make room for another person in her daughter’s life. A selfish impulse. She should be happy that Grace would have the option to know her biological father. Depending on what kind of person he was, of course. The next few minutes would tell her. Maybe. After Ben’s desertion, she wasn’t sure how good a judge of men she was.

Mikel nodded before he stood and left her in the office alone. Eve took another gulp of water and then wiped her damp palm on the sofa cushion. Stand or sit? She decided to stand, dodging around the coffee table to stop beside one of the chairs and face the door. Although she was only of average height, her heels added a couple of extra inches, so she felt taller. That might give her more confidence in facing the person who claimed to be Grace’s father.

She took a deep breath and braced herself to face whoever came through the door. He would be a factor in her life going forward. She would have to deal with him, whether it was to accept him or to protect Grace from him.

The door opened. The man who entered somehow projected his presence into every corner of the office, not with arrogance but with power. He was tall and lean with a short, neatly trimmed beard and salt-and-pepper hair combed back from his temples. He wore gray trousers and a pale blue dress shirt, open at the neck, casual clothing that did not look in any way casual on him. His smile was so potent that she nearly backed up a step.

“Ms. Howard? I’m Luis Dragón.” He strode forward with his hand outstretched. “It is a pleasure and an honor to meet you.”

“Please call me Eve,” she said as his long fingers wrapped around her hand. His handshake was as firm as Mikel’s but somehow warmer. As she examined his face, she felt a tug of recognition. She knew him from somewhere. Or maybe it was just that she could see in him a more mature and very masculine version of her daughter’s face. She swallowed her impulse to say how much he looked like Grace. Better not to give away too much at the outset.

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