be here and I don’t want to talk to you. The only reason I agreed to this—” she waved her hand to the tables around them “—was to get you out of my office.”
Shepard looked into her eyes as she spoke and all at once, he was struck by a realization; Maya Vega was a very complex—and contradictory—woman. Beneath the cool exterior, there was heat. Beneath the sophistication, there was doubt. Beneath the beauty, there was pain. The wall she’d built around her true emotions was thick and sturdy, and it’d obviously been in place for years. No one, especially him, could ever get around it.
Shepard wasn’t a man who had insights and the unexpected revelation surprised him. But he knew it was right. “I understand,” he said quietly. “But—”
“No, you don’t,” she interrupted. “You don’t understand and you don’t care or you wouldn’t be here.” Her lips compressed into a narrow line, as if she were trying to hold in her words but couldn’t. “Just tell me what you want, then get the hell out of my life.”
His coffee arrived before Shepard could answer. He pulled his steaming mug toward him but Maya ignored the tea she’d ordered.
“I will do exactly that,” he replied. “As soon as you answer my questions.”
“All right.” Her voice was not as steady as it had been in her office. “But tell me first, how did you find me?”
“The Reyes family has many friends here in the States.” He added sugar to his coffee and stirred slowly, lifting his gaze to hers. “They were happy to help me when I told them I was trying to locate you.”
She took a second to absorb the implication, then filed it away for further study. Truth be told, she probably used the same investigators he’d hired. They were the best in town and even the fact that she’d changed her last name would have meant nothing to them.
“And why did you need to locate me?”
“As I said earlier, I’ve been given some information that I need to confirm. No one but you can do that for me. It involves my brother…and you.”
“There’s nothing there to confirm or deny. What happened between the two of us took place too many years ago to matter now. You’ve come a long way on a fool’s errand.”
“You don’t want to revisit your past?”
“Not the one you know,” she said.
“You have another one? One I don’t know about?”
Her eyes were so dark he had the sudden thought that he wouldn’t be able to read them if the lights were dim and they were in bed.
Her answer stopped him from taking the image any further. “You’re clearly aware that no one here knows anything about…my younger years. For obvious reasons, I want to keep it that way.”
“Because of your career?”
“Partially,” she admitted.
“But also because…”
“But also because it’s painful for me.” Her fingers rested lightly on the tabletop. They were tipped in pale polish and perfectly manicured. “I prefer to focus on the present and my work. Nothing else is relevant. My friends have accepted the facts for what they are. They know that I came to the U.S. from South America following the death of my parents. That I was young. That I made it on my own with the help of some good people. That’s it.” She paused. “And while we’re being so frank, I’ll take the opportunity to correct you, as well. I was not a leftist guerrilla. I did not share your brother’s politics.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
She shrugged. “That’s your problem, not mine.”
“Are you sure about that?”
She threaded her fingers together but she gave no other sign of nervousness, answering his question with one of her own. “Why are you here, Mr. Reyes? What is it you really want from me?”
“I want the truth.”
“Why?”
“It serves itself. That’s the reward.”
“You’re too smart to believe platitudes.” Her voice was blunt, her expression cynical. “You grew up in Colombia. There is no one truth, especially there. Surely you know that.”
“Perhaps…” He moved to the edge of his chair and leaned closer to her, his words so softly spoken no one else could possibly hear them. “All I care about is the truth that concerns mi familia. And you understand that truth, as well. You were part of it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” he said. “When you were a teenager, you took a lover five years your senior. He was my brother but he was also a criminal who killed and stole then justified his actions in the name of a revolution. And you were right there with him, every step of the way. In the end, he paid for his foolishness with his life.”
“He made his own choices,” she said stubbornly.
“And so did you. But there’s more to the story than just that, isn’t there?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “A woman recently came into my office. For reasons that are not important, she told me something. It was a secret, she said. I think now she gave this information to me as much to relieve her own guilt as for anything else.”
Maya Vega’s face slowly became the color of bones.
“You know what she told me, don’t you?”
“Of course not. How could I?” She licked her lips. “Who was this woman?”
“She claimed to be your tía.” He stared at her closely. “Did you have an aunt?”
“Yes, I did,” she admitted. “But she’s probably dead by now. She lived a very hard life and I doubt it was a long one. I can’t imagine why she would come to you with any kind of secret.”
“You have no idea?”
“None whatsoever.” She looked him straight in the eye.
“You’re lying.”
Her hand went to her throat and the gold cross that lay in the hollow of her neck. The chain that held it glistened in the light from the windows behind Shepard.
“Now is the time for the truth to come out.” He leaned closer still. “Tell me, Maya Vega. Did you have my brother’s child?”
MAYA STIFFENED at Shepard’s question, ice-cold fear suddenly barring an escape. She wasn’t sure, but she thought her heart might have stopped, as well. There seemed to be no blood flowing in her veins, no oxygen going to her brain.
Then he softly spoke. “Maya?”
Hearing her name broke her paralysis. She stood abruptly, her leg hitting the edge of the table so hard it rocked violently and threatened to tip over. As Shepard’s mug did just that and his coffee
