Claiming His Secret Son(25)

Before he could deal with it, the boy added, “I promise.” Then his solemn look was replaced by that burning interest again. “So what do you do?”

“I am the one people come to, to make them safe.”

“Are you a bodyguard?”

“I’m the trainer and provider of bodyguards. To banks, companies, individuals, private and public events and transportation, and of course my own business and partners—and many other interests. I also keep people’s private lives and businesses safe in other ways, protecting their computers, communications and information against accidental loss or hacking.”

With every detail, Mauricio’s blue eyes sparkled brighter in the declining sun. “How did you learn to do all that?”

With another groan, the woman intervened again. “Mauri, what did we say about not asking a new question every time someone gives you an answer?” Then she squeezed her dark eyes in mortification. “As if my manners are any better!” She rushed toward him and touched him on the arm. Her smile was exquisite, reminding him so much of Isabella, even though she barely resembled her. “Please come in.”

Her gentle invitation agitated him even more. The idea of spending more time with that little boy with the endless questions and enormous eyes that probed his very essence felt as appealing as electrocution. In fact, that would have been preferable. He’d suffered it before, and he could say for certain what he was feeling now was worse.

Wishing only to run away, he cleared his throat. “It’s all right. I don’t want to interrupt your day. I’ll connect with Isabella some other time.”

The woman’s hand tightened on his forearm, aborting his movement away from the threshold. “You wouldn’t interrupt anything. I already cooked and updated my website where I do some of my volunteer work. Bella stayed overnight at work, but Saturday is her half day, so she’ll be home soon.”

So Isabella had explained her night away. But that wasn’t the important thing now. The pressing matter was the alien feeling coming over him as he looked into this woman’s kind eyes. He could only diagnose it as...helplessness. For the first time in his life he was being exposed to genuine hospitality, and he had no idea how to deal with it.

As if sensing his predicament, she patted his forearm, her eyes and voice gentling. “We’d really love to have you.”

Corroborating his grandmother’s request, the boy grabbed his other forearm. “Yes, please. You can tell me how you learned everything you do. Your job is as cool as a superhero!”

The woman looked at her grandson with tender reproof. “Mr. Graves isn’t here to entertain you, Mauri.”

The boy nodded his acceptance. “I know. He’s here to see Mamita.” He swerved into negotiation mode seamlessly, fixing Richard with his entreaty. “But you have to do something while we wait for her.”

At Richard’s hesitation, the boy changed his bargaining tactic on the fly. “If your job is top secret and you can’t talk about it, I can show you my drawings.”

Richard stared down at the boy. He drew. Like him. Something no one knew about him.

His whole body was going numb with...dread? It was beyond ludicrous to be feeling this way. But he’d been in shackles, had been tortured within an inch of his sanity, and he’d never felt as trapped and as desperate as he did now with those two transfixing him with gentleness and eagerness.

But there was no escape and he knew it. Those two frail yet overwhelming creatures had him cornered.

Feeling as if he was swallowing red-hot nails, he nodded.

Mauricio’s smile blinded him as he whooped his excitement, pulling at Richard. Once he had him over the threshold, he let him go and streaked away, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll go get my stuff!”

Watching Mauricio disappear, Richard stepped into Isabella’s home as if stepping out from under tons of rubble.

The woman closed the door behind him and guided him inside. “I’m Marta, by the way. Isabella’s mother, in case you didn’t work that out. I don’t know if Bella ever talked about me.”

She hadn’t. Isabella had never mentioned her family. When he’d tried to investigate them as part of his research into her life, there’d only been basic info until she was thirteen. Anything beyond that age had been blank until she’d married Burton. He now knew she’d later wiped out her years of marriage to him, too. But at the time he hadn’t bothered to probe the missing parts, thinking them irrelevant to his mission. But he did remember Marta was her mother’s name. She hadn’t changed her name, either.