Читать книгу Ultimate Romance Collection - Rebecca Winters, Amalie Berlin - Страница 112
ОглавлениеWHEN THE LAST batch of testa di turcos were finished and decorated, Cesare proclaimed them perfect and announced he was leaving. One more day tomorrow to guide Tuccia through two more recipes and then this private time with her was over.
He would no longer have a legitimate reason to come to the pensione. From that point on their business would have to be conducted at the castello kitchen. A limo could take her back and forth. After today he realized he couldn’t afford to be in such close quarters with her. Her burns had given him a reason to touch her, something he should never have done.
To see her lying there in the grass while he wanted to get down there with her and kiss them into oblivion had almost killed him. Another time like that and he’d have to act on his desire. If those people hadn’t walked by while he was kissing her neck, he would have pulled her back down and shown her how he felt.
But he’d picked up enough on hearing her talk about her life with her parents to realize how lonely, how empty her life had been. Being forced to think about marriage at the age of sixteen was criminal, as his mother had said. Cesare refused to be the man who came along at the most vulnerable time in her life and took away her chance to be emotionally free.
Today at the park he knew she wanted him. But she deserved marriage. That was the only way Cesare would make love to her. She would have to be his legal wife, but the situation with Jean-Michel wasn’t yet resolved. And deep down inside, he didn’t feel worthy of her.
“Cesare?” His head jerked around. “I guess you didn’t hear me. Who is the person who prints the menus for the guests? How far ahead do I have to get the names of the desserts to that person?”
“Don’t worry about that yet. Gemma’s pastries will be served until next Monday.” He was impressed she’d been thinking that far ahead.
Tuccia bit her lip. “What about the ingredients that come to the kitchen from town? Am I in charge of ordering them, or do I coordinate with Maurice? There’s so much I don’t know.”
“How could you have learned everything in a few days?” Her ability to consider all the ramifications of her new job astounded him. “I’ll be there to answer your questions.
“Right now we’re concentrating on your feeling good about the half-dozen desserts you’re mastering. That way you’ll have confidence talking to your assistants and giving them instructions on how to prepare what you’ve planned. I promise things will fall into place. Now I have to leave.”
She walked him to the door. “I can’t tell you how nice it was to eat at the park this afternoon. If you’re tired of my thanking you, then you’ll just have to get used to it.”
“That works both ways. You’re helping me so I don’t have to go back to doing a chef’s job I gave up a long time ago. We’re even.”
Tuccia shook her head. “No, we’re not.” She clung to the open door. “How long were you a chef?”
“From the moment I arrived in New York. The pay put me through part of college. I took out a loan to buy a small restaurant that was going under and called it Mamma’s. People love Sicilian food and pretty soon I’d made enough money to buy another restaurant.”
She let out a sigh. “And history was made. It explains why you’re such an expert teacher. Your mother must have been so proud of you to leave Sicily and put your stamp on the world. I’m proud of you, Cesare. Does your father have any idea what an outstanding son he has?”
No one had ever asked him that. Her sweetness was getting to him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t even know if he’s alive. When he left my mother, she never saw or heard from him again.”
“What a tragedy for him. Your father missed out on the whole point of life. I’d love to meet him and tell him what a fantastic son he has.”
Cesare cleared his throat. “I thought the same thing about your parents when you told me about your emptiness.”
A shadow crossed over her stunning features. “Forget me.”
That would be impossible.
Donati. If you stay here talking to her any longer, you’re a fool.
“I spoke with my mother earlier. She said your parents are genuinely upset over your disappearance. I was glad to hear it. Bertina sees a fissure in the ice where they are concerned. I just thought you should know.”
Her eyes clouded over. “That’s pretty hard to believe.”
“I don’t think she would have said anything if she didn’t think it were true.” He kissed her temple. “See you in the morning. I’ll make breakfast when I get here. Same time?”
She nodded, causing her black curls to shimmer. He longed to plunge his fingers into that silky mass and devour her.
Without lingering any longer, he walked out to the car and drove away without looking back. Needing a distraction, he turned on the radio and found a twenty-four-hour news station. But he didn’t hear anything about her case until he’d pulled into the parking area of his favorite sports bar in the village.
That’s when he learned that Interpol was now involved to coordinate police cooperation throughout Europe in order to find the princess.
After shutting off the engine, he went inside and ordered, a pale lager from a Lombardi brewery both he and Takis enjoyed. While he waited for the waiter to bring some appetizers, he phoned Vincenzo. His friend wouldn’t be taking Gemma to their home in Lake Como until next week. Cesare needed some advice and no one had a better head.
He reached Vincenzo’s voice mail and asked him to call him when he could. Once he’d finished his lager, he headed for the castello and let himself in his private office off the lobby. While he did some work on the computer that had been piling up, his friend returned the call and Cesare talked to him about Tuccia’s disappearance.
“Tonight I heard that Interpol is now involved. It’s getting ugly. Tuccia has sent Jean-Michel a letter of apology. He should be getting it soon. But part of me wants to urge her to get in touch with him right away and settle this thing quietly with him and her parents. The press could then be informed that she’s safe and they’ve called off their marriage.”
A long silence ensued. “In a perfect world, Cesare. But I was born in her imperfect one. She’s done something uncommonly courageous. It’s just my opinion, but I think she needs to see it through on her own inspiration, come what may. That’s what I did with no regrets.”
It was the “come what may” part that made Cesare shudder. He couldn’t ignore what she’d told him at the park about her caged life, but he valued Vincenzo’s judgment. “Thanks for listening. I appreciate it.”
“We’ve been through a lot together, amico. Are you going to be all right?”
“I’ll have to be, won’t I.”
He hung up. There’d be little sleep for him tonight. Instead of going up to his room, he began printing off copies of the recipes she’d been following under his supervision. When the time came, she would have to hand them to her assistants.
Dozens of other tasks needed to be taken care of. Why not now while adrenaline surged through his veins over the cruelty Tuccia had endured this far in her life. She’d been robbed of a normal existence. If he didn’t have responsibilities, he’d disappear with her to some hidden spot on the other side of the globe and love her without worrying about anything else.
* * *
This morning Tuccia had got up at five-thirty to finish her surprise for Cesare and make some rolls. She’d started their breakfast before she’d gone to bed and hoped he’d love it. He’d done so much for her that she wanted to do this small thing to repay him. Today would be their last for working together alone.
In the past when she’d gone out on the royal yacht with her parents and their friends in the summer, one of the aspects she looked forward to was the Sicilian breakfast served on board. Curious to know how granita was made, she’d prevailed on the cook to show her.
When the mixture of sugar, water and almond paste was melted, then frozen, stirred, mashed, frozen, stirred, mashed and frozen many times until it came out looking like snow, it was served in a goblet. Eaten with a yeast brioche, it tasted like heaven. The cook also made fruit granitas topped with whipping cream, but she’d preferred the almond and dipped her roll in it.
From the window over the sink she saw Cesare arrive. It was ten to eight. He was early! Every time he came to the apartment, excitement exploded inside her. Thank goodness she’d set the table ahead of time and had made coffee. She’d even designed a menu for him, describing what he would be eating. She folded and propped it where his plate would go.
Though she wanted to fling the door open and run into his arms, she steeled herself to wait until he knocked before answering the door. The second he walked in wearing a dark blue polo shirt and white trousers, he paused. His gaze zeroed in on her.
“Something smells wonderful.”
Somebody looked wonderful.
“I’m glad. Welcome to Tuccia’s, Signor Donati!” She made a sweep with the arm that had fresh honey gauze pads taped over her burns. They wouldn’t be necessary after today. “If you’ll come in and find a seat, I’ll be your server.”
She watched him walk in the kitchen and sit down to examine the menu. His head reared. He stared at her with a stunned expression. “Granita di mandorle?”
“Si, signor.”
Delighted with his reaction, she rushed to pour their coffee. She’d already put sugar on the table because he liked a lot of it. Then she pulled two filled snifters out of the small freezer compartment. After putting them on a plate with a warm roll, she set them on the table and sat down.
Tuccia had already tasted it and knew it was good. Not as good as the cook on the yacht had made it, but she was proud of it. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Cesare take his first few bites, wishing he were her husband so they could do this every morning.
Pretty soon he was dipping his roll into the concoction the way she always did. Halfway through his meal, he ran out of roll and reached for her hand across the table.
“You told me you didn’t know how to cook anything except to make instant coffee and tea in the microwave.”
“I forgot about this. I love it so much I begged the cook on my parents’ yacht to teach me how.”
He released her fingers. “It’s superb...just the right taste and consistency. You must have been up all night.”
“I wanted to treat you for a change. It was worth it.”
He seemed taken back. “My mother’s version isn’t as good as this one. We’re going to be serving your rendition for one of our nightly desserts starting next week.”
She moaned. “It’s so much work!”
His deep laughter filled the kitchen. “That’s what the assistants are for. I have a gut feeling our fame for fine Sicilian cuisine is going to spread and we’ll be inundated with too many would-be guests to accommodate.”
He got up from the table and brought back a plate with more rolls. Having finished off the flavored ice, he devoured the rest of them in no time at all. “These are delicious by the way. You’re such a fast learner it’s breathtaking. I’m convinced you could do anything at all if you put your mind to it.”
“I think you’re flattering me into giving you another serving of granita. I made enough if you want more now.”
“I’ll definitely want some later.” He sat back in the chair. “Tell me. Would you rather lie down for the rest of the morning and catch up on some much-needed sleep? Later on this afternoon I’ll come back and we’ll work on the chocolate torte. Once you’ve made it, we won’t have to worry about your cooking anything new for a few days.”
“I’d rather do it now if you don’t mind. Then I’ll be able to relax enough to face tomorrow.”
“So be it. Let’s get started. I’ll clear the table while you find your bible.”
“It’s on the shelf.” She got up to reach for it and saw Cesare put the menu in his trouser pocket. If that meant what she hoped it meant, all the hard work and loss of sleep had been worth it.
Later, while she was icing her next five-layer creation, Cesare’s cell phone rang. She kept working while he walked in the living room. He didn’t come back to the kitchen for at least fifteen minutes. She couldn’t read his expression.
“Is everything all right?”
He lounged against the wall with his hands in his pockets. “Ciro took a turn for the worse during the night and has ended back up in the ICU.”
“His heart?”
“Yes.”
“How sad.” She waited to hear more. “What else is wrong? I know it’s something serious.”
“I’d rather not have to tell you this, but you have the right to know.”
“What is it?” Her voice shook.
“My mother had just arrived at Bertina’s palazzo to prepare meals this morning when the police showed up without notice and took her to police headquarters for further questioning.”
Tuccia put a hand to her mouth.
“Mamma returned to the villa to phone me. The police know that Bertina is the person you’ve always turned to and that she was the one who chartered the jet for you. Naturally they believe she knows where you are hiding.”
“Of course.”
“Just remember your aunt is a strong woman who loves you very much. She says your parents have softened a great deal and went to the station with her to lend their support.”
“You’re kidding—”
“No. I really do think they are suffering over what they did to you. Mamma and I agree she’ll be able to handle an interrogation. The police don’t have evidence of any kind. Bertina doesn’t know where you are, only that you’re safe. The police won’t be able to hold her.”
“The situation is growing unbearable. I could end all the pain for Bertina by just going home.”
In the next breath Cesare walked over and put his hands on her shoulders. He looked into her eyes. “That’s not going to be necessary. Once Jean-Michel gets your letter, he’ll tell the police and the princess hunt will be over. But if you feel strongly about this, I’ll fly you to Palermo today to see your aunt.”
“I know you would, but I couldn’t let you down now.”
“Forget about me.”
“You’re too wonderful to be real.” She buried her face in her hands. “I wish I knew what to do. I don’t want my zia to suffer, but I’ve made a commitment to you. Hearing the bad news about Ciro only makes things worse.”
Cesare pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. “I have an idea that will make the most sense. Let’s wait another day until I hear from my mother. Hopefully your fiancé will have gotten your letter. Nothing may be as bad as you’re imagining.”
His tenderness was too much. Tuccia broke down sobbing quietly against his chest, unable to stop. “Forgive me for soaking your shirt. I’m a disaster and you shouldn’t have to put up with me for another second.”
“What if I want to.”
When she tried to pull away, he lowered his head and started kissing her wet face until his mouth covered hers. It all happened so naturally that her lips opened. In another second she experienced the full intensity of a kiss that thrilled her to the very depths of her being.
“Cesare—” she cried, so completely besotted she started kissing him back with a passion she didn’t know herself capable of. For this fabulous man to be loving her like this brought a rush of joy to her heart she could hardly contain.
“Forgive me if I’ve been needing this,” he whispered in a shaken voice. “You have no idea how you’ve affected me. Tuccia—” He drew her so close there was no air between them. “Tell me to stop.”
“I can’t. I want you to go on kissing me and never stop.” Once again they were devouring each other. The more she clung to him, the more she realized she’d never be able to appease this growing hunger for him. He’d come into her life and changed it forever.
She wanted him with her whole heart and soul, but if he was only kissing her in order to comfort her, then she had to do something to turn this around. All he needed now was to have to worry about being stuck with a fugitive who was desperate for love and attention and had begged him to let her remain here and work for him.
It was up to her to see this for what it was and not get carried away. Deep down she was fearful he saw her in that light. How could he not? She broke their kiss and wheeled out of his arms. It took all her strength to turn and face him head-on, knowing her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen.
Tuccia had to prove that he could count on her. “I—I’m afraid we both got carried away,” she stammered. “You’re a very attractive man. I’m shocked you’re not married yet. Any woman could lose her head with you. I’m no exception. I’ve thought about what you said. It would be best to give the situation another twenty-four hours before I make any kind of decision that could impact both of us.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
She could believe it. The man was depending on her to keep her head at this point. Needing to stay busy, she cut a piece of torte and handed it to him on a plate with a fork. “Try this and tell me what you think.”
Please just do it, Cesare.
He did her bidding, eating half of it before putting the plate on the table. “You pass with flying colors, Tuccia.”
“It was your recipe.” Relief swamped her. “You don’t think I need to make it again right now to improve it?”
“No.” His eyes had narrowed on her mouth. Her heart felt like it was running away with her. “The torte is exquisite.”
“Then do you mind if I lie down for a little while?”
One brow lifted. “I was about to suggest it. You need sleep. I’ll come by at five with a meal and we’ll talk over what’s going to happen tomorrow.”
“Thank you for understanding.” She took a quick breath. “Thank you for everything.”
“Try not to worry too much, Tuccia.”
“That would be impossible.”
He looked like he was going to say something, then thought the better of it. The moment he walked out of the apartment, she locked the door, then ran to the bedroom and flung herself on the bed in agony. After fleeing from a man she’d despised, she’d run straight into a man she adored.
Tuccia wondered if she dared tell him exactly what she felt, that she loved him and wanted to be his wife. Maybe that was what she would do the next time they were together. No more holding back.
* * *
At ten to five, Cesare, showered, shaved, and wearing a tan summer suit, walked in the castello kitchen. He nodded to Maurice before packing a bag of fettuccini Alfredo with chicken to go. Nothing else was needed. Tuccia had cooked rolls and cake that morning. There was still a half bottle of Chardonnay waiting to be enjoyed with another snifter of her fabulous granita.
Princess Tuccianna was so full of surprises he decided there wasn’t anything she couldn’t do. One taste of her mouth and he knew he wanted to go on tasting it for the rest of his life. When she’d surrendered herself to him, he’d experienced ecstasy like nothing he’d ever known and had come close to having a heart attack.
He’d sensed he was in deep water the first night he’d caught her in his arms in his mother’s kitchen. But since then his feelings for her had escalated to such a degree his life had been irrevocably changed.
She was in his heart, in his blood, but that wasn’t enough. Cesare wanted her in his life day and night. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted babies with her. He wanted everything that he’d feared would never happen because he hadn’t believed love would come to him.
Yet now that he’d found this extraordinary woman, he feared it was too soon to tie her down with his own needs. For years her parents had exerted too much pressure on her to conform to their demands, and she’d run away.
After the ecstasy of their kiss, Cesare wanted to marry her and never let her go. But Cesare sensed that would be the wrong thing to do. She needed time to develop her sense of self first.
The greatest gift he could give her would be to hold back and allow her to become the incredible person he knew her to be. As long as she worked for him, he could keep her close to him until the time came when he had to tell her how he felt.
On his way out of the kitchen he walked over to Gemma who was setting up for the evening crowd. It was a good thing tonight would be her last night as pastry cook. Her baby would be coming before long. She needed rest.
“Tuccia and I will be here at nine in the morning.”
“I’ll be watching for you. Is she nervous?”
“She doesn’t show it.”
Gemma smiled at him. “What about you, Cesare?”
“I know she’s going to be fine.”
“With you helping her, she couldn’t possibly go wrong.”
If Gemma had seen him kissing Tuccia earlier as if his life depended on it—which it did—she would probably have told him to slow down. He kissed Gemma’s cheek and left the castello for his car.
On the way down to the village he turned on the five o’clock news. Following the latest world events he learned there’d been a break in the case involving Princess Tuccianna’s disappearance. But the police weren’t revealing the details yet. That had to mean the letter had reached Jean-Michel.
Pleased by the new development, he turned it off and pulled up in front of the pensione. Tuccia must have seen him arrive because she opened the door for him, appearing to have gotten some rest.
This evening she wore the same print blouse and pants from a few nights ago. Her wardrobe didn’t consist of more than three or four changes of clothes. The apartment’s washer and dryer had been a necessity, but he intended to rectify the situation and take her shopping.
She eyed the bag he carried. “More goodies?”
“Maurice’s version of fettuccini.”
“I can’t wait to try it. Then I can compliment him on it tomorrow. Come in.” Tuccia closed the door and followed him into the kitchen. She’d cleaned it spotless and had set the table. The TV was on in the living room. “I’ve been listening to the news.”
“So have I,” he stated and reached for some plates to serve their dinner. “We both know what that new development in your case means. By now Jean-Michel will have called off the search. Within the next few hours he’ll make some kind of statement to the press. In the meantime I’m sure your aunt is going to be fine, otherwise I would have heard from my mother by now.”
“I pray you’re right.”
“Even so, the letter provides proof that you’re alive. Therefore your family will have to hire private detectives to look for you if they are still intent on finding you. According to Bertina, they’re hoping you’ll come home because they love you. So I’d say tonight is a time for celebration!”
He reached for the Chardonnay and poured it into glasses before putting them on the table. “Where are your delicious rolls?”
“There were four left. I put them in the microwave and will warm them up.”
When they finally sat down at the table, he raised his wine glass. “Before we eat, I’d like to make a toast.” Her gray eyes sparkled as she lifted hers. “To the princess who overnight has turned into a pastry cook par excellence.”
“I’m going to try.” They touched glasses and sipped their wine. “Now I’d like to make one.” She raised her glass again, staring straight into his eyes. “To her teacher, a man who is without equal.”
Cesare wished it were true.
Everything she said and did had such impact he didn’t know where to go with his feelings without betraying them. But he’d made himself a promise to keep things professional for a while longer. She, too, was behaving as if their soul-destroying kiss that morning had changed nothing.
But they both knew that it had.
All he could do was clink her glass and drink more wine.
“Hmm,” she said after tasting the fettuccini. “This is exceptional. I can see why Maurice was hired.”
“We’ve been very happy with him.” Cesare ate another of her rolls. “It’s a balmy night out. After we finish dinner, would you like to go for a drive while we talk about tomorrow?”
“You must be reading my mind. I was afraid to ask.”
She’d probably be shocked if she knew what was going through his. He’d rather take her in the other room and dance with her. Unfortunately if he did that, they would end up in the bedroom and not come back out for days. So much for him following his own advice to put those thoughts out of his mind.
He took a deep breath. “I thought I’d show you around the castello estate to get you acquainted. You’ll enjoy seeing the swans on the lake.”
“Ooh. How beautiful.”
“It’s quite a sight on a moonlit night, though the moon won’t be out for several hours. When we return, I’ll finish off the granita and another slice of torte.”
After they finished eating and had cleared the table, they walked outside and took off in the car. Tuccia turned to him in her seat. “I’ve wanted to see the fortress up close. It has such a rich history. I can hardly believe that Vincenzo’s family home has been turned into a hotel and restaurant.”
“Vincenzo’s father and uncle squandered everything and the estate was seized by the government to be sold to the highest bidder. Vincenzo asked me and Takis if we wanted to pool our assets and buy it with him.”
“When was this?”
“The three of us were in New York at the time. He had the idea to turn it into the business proposition it is today. That way he could preserve his family legacy and do something honorable for the region. I thought it a fantastic idea. So did Takis.”
“Bravo for Vincenzo,” she exclaimed. “I can understand that happening in a family as power-hungry as his. It’s the only reason my parents made sure early in my life that they would have a son-in-law with a fortune. That would be their insurance to keep them living their lavish lifestyle to the end of their days.”
Her words caused Cesare’s stomach muscles to clench. He drove them to the summit and took the road that wound behind the castello.
“This place is massive.”
“You’re right.”
Two sets of guests from the hotel were out walking. He drove the car past them until they reached the lake much further away. She rolled down her window. “It’s so lovely and peaceful, but I don’t see any swans.”
“They’re probably hiding in the rushes, but they’ll come out.” Cesare turned off the engine and turned toward her. “Tomorrow will be here before you know it. Gemma is ready to ease many of your concerns. But I’d like to know what is worrying you most and relieve you if I can.”
Tuccia shook her head. “Do you know what I wish? That I could have been a normal person you’d hired at one of your restaurants in New York. Think how much I could have learned from you.”
He had news for her. If she’d come into his life back then, they’d be married by now. He wouldn’t have hesitated asking her. “Instead you’re learning to be a pastry chef here.”
“But it isn’t fair to you,” her voice cracked.
“Tuccia...”
“It’s true. You’re playing a dangerous game in order to protect me, Cesare. I honestly don’t know what Jean-Michel would do if he caught up to you.”
Cesare smiled. “I’m afraid you should be worried what I’d do to him if I had the opportunity.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Try me. What can he do except rage?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“All I know is, your mother should never have asked you to help me.”
He slid his arm along the back of the seat. “Aside from the fact that I met you at her house in the middle of the night, she didn’t have anything to do with my decision to fly you here.”
She stirred in the seat. “How can you say that?”
“Because I’ve had to live with Vincenzo and Gemma’s story for many years. The night my mother told me about your situation, the horror of their history came back to haunt me. For you to be forced to undergo a betrothal at your age was not only feudal, it was criminal.”
“Zia Bertina said the same thing many times. That’s why she agreed to help me escape. I’ll love her forever for what she did for me.”
“The emotional damage to you was as bad as anything physical,” Cesare spoke his mind. “When Mamma asked if I would help you leave Palermo, I didn’t have to think about it and was determined to help you any way I could. That hasn’t changed for me. Does that answer your question?”
Once more she hid her face in her hands, but she nodded.
He ruffled one of her curls with his fingers. “You said you wished you were a normal girl I’d hired to work in one of my restaurants in New York. In truth it’s exactly what I’ve done, but this restaurant happens to be in Milan. Shall we put all the angst of the past aside and concentrate on tomorrow? You’re my new pastry chef who’s going to be running the show.”
She finally lifted her head. “I intend to make you proud. Maybe you should take me back to the apartment. I rested a little today, but I didn’t sleep. If I go to bed now, I’ll be in much better shape by morning. Another time I’ll come out here and watch for the swans.”
Tuccia’s resilience was something to behold.
“There’ll be many opportunities.” Cesare started the engine and he drove them back to the pensione. When they arrived, he walked her to the door.
Don’t touch her, Donati.
If he made that mistake, he would never leave her apartment. “I’ll be by for you at eight. We’ll have a working breakfast with Gemma.”
“I’ll be ready. Thank you for the dinner and the tour, Cesare. Dormi bene.”
“E tu.”
Giving in to unassuaged longings, he pulled her in his arms, kissing her long and hard.
He walked back to his car aware of a new fear attacking him. How would he handle it if he asked her to marry him and she turned him down?
