Page 41 of Royal Caleva: Luis

Luis’s face blazed with jubilation as he returned the embrace. “Hija mía, I will be counting the minutes.”

They released each other with obvious reluctance before Luis turned to Eve. He, too, had a liquid glint of emotion in his eyes. Taking both her hands in his strong grip, he did the double air-kiss, the brush of his beard sending another delicious flicker of sensation dancing over her skin. “Until we meet again,” he said, his blue eyes locked on her in a way that made her feel like the only woman in the world. An illusion.

They were escorted to the car by Ivan and closed into the dark interior. As Ivan set the car in motion, Grace pulled her new cell phone out of her handbag and began to type madly.

“What are you doing?” Eve asked.

“Texting Luis to tell him how much I loved dinner,” Grace said, her voice a little gruff.

“That will make him happy.”

Grace’s thumbs stilled, and she rested the phone on her thigh. “Did you have fun, Mom?”

“I sure did.” Maybe too much fun.

Grace’s phone dinged with an incoming text, and she checked it instantly. “He answered me!” She didn’t read the message aloud, but in the dim moonlight, Eve could see the smile softening her face.

“Mom, we’re going to Caleva!” Grace’s voice vibrated with excitement. “Can you believe it?”

“I believe Luis can make almost anything happen,” Eve said, a touch of dryness in her tone.

Luis looked up from his phone as Mikel came down the stairs to the front hallway. “Grace texted me”—he was unable to stop the upward curl of his lips—“about how much she enjoyed dinner.”

Mikel surprised him by smiling in return. “You will receive many texts going forward. It is the preferred method of communication for that generation.”

“Raul and Gabriel rarely text me,” Luis pointed out.

“They were raised differently, they are male”—Mikel’s expression turned enigmatic—“and you are their king.”

“I like getting texts from my daughter.” Luis slipped his phone into his shirt pocket.

“As do I,” Mikel said. “Excuse me, Señor, I must complete our preparations for departure.”

Luis waved a hand to indicate Mikel should do what he needed to, then wandered into the dining room. The table was already cleared, and the clink and water rush of dishes being washed emanated from the kitchen.

His mind roamed back to the pleasures of the evening. Grace leaning toward him, her face alive with interest and laughter as she asked a question about Caleva. Eve watching her daughter with pride and love glowing in her eyes more brightly than the candlelight.

He had not wanted the evening to end. Although he looked forward to showing Grace and Eve the beauties of Caleva, he knew their view of him would change once they arrived in his country. Here in the cornfields of Iowa, he could almost be an average person, particularly since he had instructed Mikel to keep the security measures as low-key as possible.

In Caleva, it would be impossible to hide the singularity of his position. He viewed the palace as simply home. A centuries-old suit of armor was no more extraordinary than a potted plant. Few people, though, shared his perspective.

Grace would take it in her stride because she had the delicious arrogance of a young Midwesterner who wasn’t overawed by royalty or history. Not to mention that she had royal blood in her veins, so she would feel that she had a right to be there.

Eve was another matter. She had recognized that he was painting a deliberately rosy picture of being royal, describing his family through the lens of his love for them, downplaying or ignoring the less relatable aspects of their lives. Eve had not called him on it, despite the skepticism that had flitted across her features.

Most of the time, though, Eve had listened and laughed along with Grace. Even she sometimes seemed to forget he was a king, treating him to the occasional blunt observation that was softened by her warmth. He could imagine her handling difficult pets and their even more difficult owners with her distinctive combination of compassion and no-nonsense good humor.

He would lose sight of that side of her in Caleva amid the bodyguards and staff and vast castle.

He could perhaps watch the candlelight play over the satin of her auburn hair and hear the throaty laugh that sent a tightening of arousal to his groin. But it would happen at a table filled with other people, not aimed just at him.

He wanted more of Eve, and that was a dangerous craving.

CHAPTER 11

“I can’t believe he lives here,” Grace murmured as their guide, Clara, led the group of vet students and their chaperones through a stone great hall decorated with heraldic banners and medieval weapons.

Their journey to Caleva had been marked by one amazing luxury after another. To start the trip, all eight of them had been picked up at the vet school and transported to the Des Moines airport by a private van. After the short flight to Chicago, they had been escorted to the first-class lounge, where they had dined and drunk champagne for free while they waited to depart for Caleva. The eight-hour flight on Calevan Airlines had been spent indulging in and exclaiming over all the amenities in first class.

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