in Florence. She would laugh in disbelief at such a ludicrous idea.”
Vincenzo shook his head. “We’ve all heard the news about the princess who ran away. No one would be more understanding than my wife who saw first-hand what went on between my father and me years ago. Takis and I agree those nun buns the princess made were divine. I think it’s worth going to the trouble to give her a chance. I know Gemma will feel the same way.”
“You don’t want her on her feet at this late date in her pregnancy. Neither do I.”
“Cooking for hours every day is entirely different than having a serious talk with Tuccia.”
Takis nodded. “He’s got a point, Cesare.”
“I don’t know. I have a lot to think about. Tomorrow when I go down to the pensione, I’ll probably discover she wants to leave. Whatever is decided, I’ll let you know. I guess you realize I’m indebted to you two for being the best friends any man could ever have. Now go to bed. That’s an order.”
Both men stole the rest of the mounds from the pan before walking out the door.
Cesare tossed and turned all night, too eager to see her again to sleep. Early the next morning he got dressed and left the castello in his hard-top sports car parked around the rear. He took the empty pan with him.
When he reached the village, he stopped at a trattoria for takeout: breakfast for two. To his dismay he realized that he was so excited at the prospect of seeing her again he couldn’t think about anything else. Though it had only been a few days, Tuccia had taken up space in his mind and heart.
He’d known desire for women and had enjoyed several short-term relationships, but they’d always stopped short of marriage because some crucial element had been missing. That was what he’d always told himself. But this was different because so far Tuccia appealed to him on every level and had already colored his world.
He reached the pensione at eight and got out of the car. After knocking on the door, he expected her to answer in tears and be anxious to get to the train station.
LAST NIGHT TUCCIA had wished Cesare had stayed. But if she’d asked him not to go, she would have given him the wrong idea. She had a problem because she knew she’d fallen in love with him and was more attracted to him with every passing minute. When the limo pulled away, she’d closed and locked the door, fearing she wouldn’t get to sleep for a long time.
At four this morning, an exhausted Tuccia had turned off her watch alarm and got out of bed to do her homework. It was one thing to cook while Cesare had stood there directing her every step. The trick was to do it while he wasn’t watching.
She knew there were enough ingredients for her to make one more batch of the tarts on her own. But with no big shallow pan, she’d had to improvise with two small round pans with higher sides she’d found in the cupboard. As a result, she still had half the batter to cook.
If she failed miserably, then she’d be the first to ask him to drive her to the train station. It would be the last thing he would ever have to do for her. Before she threw herself at him, she realized it would be better if she never saw him again.
Tuccia had thought her initial physical attraction to him would fade, but the opposite had happened. His underlying goodness as a human being had opened her eyes to the other qualities in his nature that had nothing to do with his striking male looks. Everything about him from his intellect to his humor stimulated her. So much, in fact, that she was breathless as she waited to see him again today.
The knock on the door came sooner than she had expected, sending her pulse racing as if she had a sickness. She put down the cup she’d been using to add the final lemon glaze to the tarts she’d made. There were still three to be coated and decorated.
After wiping her hands on a towel, she hurried to answer the door, knowing flour still dusted part of the same blouse she’d worn last evening. There was even some on her forearms.
When she opened it, their eyes met for a quiet moment. His were smiling, if there was such a thing. She got a fluttering in her chest as his gaze wandered over her.
“I bet you didn’t know there’s flour on the tip of your nose.” Before she could blink, he removed it with his thumb. His touch sent an electricity-like spark through her body. “If I don’t miss my guess, I would say you’ve already been hard at work this morning.”
She was worried yet excited to show him. “Come in and find out.”
Cesare walked through to the kitchen with another bag of food and the empty pan. He put them both on the counter and pulled a phone out of his pocket.
“This is for you. All programmed.” He put it at the end of the counter.
Tuccia thanked him, but she had no idea where the batch of tarts he’d left with had ended up. She didn’t think she wanted to know.
Without asking her permission, Cesare took a finished product from one of the small round pans. He examined it first. Then he bit into it. An anxious Tuccia waited while he took another bite and another, until it was all gone. Uh-oh. Here it comes.
“Why are you closing your eyes?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“I don’t know. So I can handle the bad verdict better?”
“On your fourth try, you’ve achieved perfection. The cinnamon balance is just right. As for the shapes, my mother wouldn’t know them from her own. If I didn’t have a knowledge of your upbringing, I’d think you came out of the same nunnery.” This time he brushed her mouth with his own.
She opened her eyes, trying to contain her joy. “Thank you, Cesare, but you don’t have to overdo it.”
He ignored her comment. “I’m even more impressed you found something else to cook them in. This apartment is ill-equipped for a chef. When Mamma told me you were resourceful, I don’t believe that even she understood the scope of your abilities.”
Tuccia scoffed. “She was only quoting my zia who thinks I can do no wrong. She and my zio wanted babies so much. What they got was me when my parents didn’t know what to do with me. Bertina was the one bright light in my existence.”
“As you still are in hers,” he came back, seemingly deep in thought. “Otherwise she wouldn’t have risked everything to help you.” His blue gaze swerved to hers, sending more darts of awareness through her body. “That includes using my mother who happens to have the same favorable opinion of you.”
“I’ll never be able to thank her enough for what she’s done. But right this minute I want the honest answer to one question. After talking to your partners, should I be getting ready to leave for Catania?”
He lounged his rock-hard body against the edge of the counter with his arms folded. “I’d like your honest answer to another question first. Why did you get up at the crack of dawn and go to all the effort of making another batch when you could have stayed asleep?”
She took a deep breath. “Because I needed to find out for myself if I was capable of following that recipe on my own.”
“Which
