Page 14 of Royal Caleva: Luis

She swallowed her outrage. Grace deserved to have a father. She especially deserved to have one who could offer her the advantages Luis could. His resources made Eve’s look downright pitiful. Grace didn’t crave material things, but Luis could send her on journeys anywhere in the world or pay for advanced degrees at the finest universities. Jealousy reared its ugly head before Eve could smack it down.

“If I acknowledge Grace, I must be honest with you.” Luis gave a half grimace. “She would need a certain amount of security.”

Because the king’s relatives could be targets for kidnapping and, dear God, mutilation. Fear wrapped icy fingers around her heart and squeezed.

“Or I can be a beneficent uncle with no acknowledged blood ties, but with a very strong interest in being part of her life in some way,” he offered with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. “We could keep it very private.”

“You already have an heir,” Eve said, wanting to protect her child from potential kidnappers. “Why would you even need to claim Grace as your child?”

His face sharpened with something she could only call hunger. “If she is my daughter, she is of my blood.”

Another slash at Eve’s heart. Grace was not of Eve’s blood.

“I would have her honored as she deserves,” Luis continued. “Even more, I would wish to be a father to her in whatever way she—and you—will allow.” The angles of his face softened. “I have missed so many years of her life. I want to make up for that.”

Another unwelcome thought charged in. “If you acknowledged her, would you expect her to move to Caleva?”

He spread his hands in an admission of uncertainty. “She is an adult. She will make her own decisions about where to live.”

But a father and a palace could be very tempting. If Grace moved, Eve would have to move to be near her. A small bubble of panic lodged in her throat. She coughed once to clear it. “All of this is up to her, of course. I appreciate your courtesy in letting me know first.”

“I thought you could help her in navigating this surprising situation,” he said. “If something of this magnitude had happened to Raul, I would wish to know so I could assist him.”

He was not only a king, but a father. He had some understanding of how this would upend Grace’s world. He was also a parent who was desperate to meet the young woman who might be his child. That resonated in Eve’s heart, and she found herself softening toward him.

The final decision, though, was Grace’s.

“I assume you want me to be your envoy,” she said.

“I thought it would be best for her to learn the news from you, but if you don’t feel comfortable…” He lifted a hand to indicate he would handle it.

He wanted her to put her seal of approval on the DNA test and their meeting. That would smooth his way. It was to his credit that he didn’t just swoop down on Grace from his throne, assuming his daughter would be thrilled to be a princess. Eve respected his restraint. Of course, as a king, he must have had a lot of practice dealing with touchy situations.

“I’m happy to start the ball rolling with Grace, but she has a mind of her own. I can’t guarantee how she’ll respond.”

“I understand.” For a moment, he looked stricken, and her heart cracked open a little more for him.

“Knowing Grace, she’ll want to meet you. Beyond that, I can’t predict.”

“If you persuade her to give me that one chance, I will accept whatever comes.” His smile held the confidence that he would convince Grace to let him into her life.

He was probably right.

“When will you speak with her about this?” he asked.

Right. He was a king. He had responsibilities that didn’t allow him to hang around in Ames, Iowa. Besides, there was no good reason to delay telling Grace such important news. She glanced at her watch. It was six o’clock. Nearly dinnertime, yet her usually healthy appetite had deserted her. “I’ll tell her tonight.”

A fleeting look of relief crossed his face. “Thank you.”

She started to stand, then sat again. “I don’t know how this works. Do I need your permission to leave?”

He pressed his hand against his chest. “Here, I am only a man who begs your help. My crown was left outside the door.”

She considered the confident tilt of his head, the authoritative set of his shoulders, and the way his presence filled the room. “You don’t need a crown to be a king.” She stood.

In a surge of graceful power, he came to his feet as well. “You have Mikel’s number. Please contact him anytime, day or night, and he will reach me.”

“What exactly does Mikel do?” she asked.

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