on a baker to let me work for him. I liked that work best and stayed there until I was discovered by you!” Her gray eyes stared straight into his. “What do you think?”
At this minute he didn’t dare tell her what he thought or felt. He was in love with her. “I have one suggestion. At least say that you went to school once in a while. Your intelligence shines through in everything you say and do.”
“So does yours. Thank you for tonight’s cooking lesson. I’ll see you in the morning.”
If she had any idea he would rather stay with her all night and every night, she’d fly out the door. “Tuccia? Before I leave, let’s go in the living room and talk for a minute about something serious. You’ve been cooped up here for several days, no doubt missing a few friends to talk to.”
Cesare went in the other room first so she’d follow. They both sat down. He took a chair and she the couch. “I know you’ve run away from your parents, but deep down this has to be torturous for you.”
She curled up against the side. “If I told you the truth, I’m afraid you might think me a person with no natural affection.”
He steadied himself. “Explain that.”
“I know you’re supposed to love your parents. I suppose I do in a philosophical way, but it’s Zia Bertina I’ve always turned to. She was the mother I needed. My own was cold and my father was always a stranger to me. When I think of them, I get an empty feeling inside. With a mother like yours, I know you can’t comprehend it.”
Cesare shifted in the chair. “You’re right.” He had no words.
“I don’t tell you this so you’ll feel sorry for me, but only to explain that I’ve lived with this situation for twenty-five years. Your concern for my feelings has touched me very much, but you needn’t worry yourself on my account because I have to stay secluded. As long as I have my zia who has loved me all my life, I’m happy.”
He sucked in his breath. “But it’s still not too late for you to leave Milan and do what you want, whether in Catania or elsewhere. You should be able to embark on a new life, work at something that interests you and make new friends.”
“Find a lover I’ve chosen?” she added in a voice that made her sound much older.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Why not?”
“I never wanted the fiancé I can’t stand, let alone some lover, followed by another and then another that goes on and on like a revolving door. We royals are known for it. To be honest I can’t think of anything worse.”
Neither could Cesare.
“Right now there’s just one thing on my mind. To prove that I can make a success of something truly important, not only to me, but to you and your partners. Your ristorante is without a pastry chef. If I could pull this off, nothing would make me happier.”
Her earnestness crept through him, causing his throat to swell. “I believe you mean that.”
She nodded. “I’ve surprised myself. Do you know what a shock it is to discover that I like such painstaking work? Who would have thought I’d find it a challenge to crimp the edges of those half moons so they were just right? But if you think there’s still too much danger, or that it’s really not going to work, then please tell me now and I’ll leave whenever you say.”
Humbled by an inner purity in her, Cesare got up from the chair. When he’d suggested they come in the living room for a little talk, he never expected to feel his heart torn apart by the confessions of a girl whose parents hadn’t been able to show her how precious she was.
The backstory she’d concocted for the staff could only have come from a princess who’d been born with every advantage under the sun except love.
“Rest assured we need you right here, Tuccia.” He leaned over to kiss her lips briefly, unable to help himself. But if she’d wanted to respond, he didn’t give her the chance and stood up. “Stay where you are. You look too comfortable to move. I’ll let myself out and see you in the morning with breakfast and more groceries.”
After a detour to the kitchen for one of the pans of cassateddi to share with his friends, he left for the castello a different man than the one he’d been four hours ago.
On the drive home, Cesare pulled out his cell to call his mother. He was glad to hear that his sister was there visiting with her husband and baby. They all chatted for a few minutes until Isabella got off the line.
“Now we can talk about important matters, Cesare. I have to tell you Bertina is out of her mind with worry.”
“Let her know I just came from being with Tuccia. She sends her love and wants to assure her zia all is well. She would phone, but knows the police have tapped the lines.”
“I’m sure of it. Tuccia is really all right?”
“Would I tell you otherwise?”
“No, figlio mio. I trust you with my life.”
“That’s nice to hear. Does Bertina have any more news about the search?”
“The police are baffled. Their bungling has enraged her sister and brother-in-law. Bertina’s sources tell her that Jean-Michel is so overcome he has remained incommunicado to the media. There’s been no ransom note and they fear for her welfare.”
“I have something to tell you, Mamma.” In the next breath he told her about the letter being sent to Jean-Michel. “Once he receives it, everything will change.”
“It can’t get to him soon enough!”
“I agree.” In the meantime Tuccia would hear the worst when she turned on her TV. “I hope Bertina is putting on the show of her life to prove how grief-stricken she is.”
“If I didn’t know the truth, I’d be convinced she’s in the depths of despair. I’ve decided she could have been a great actress.”
Superb acting appeared to run in the royal family. Tuccia’s fashion show earlier this evening had stunned him close to speechless.
“One more thing you should know, Cesare. Bertina says Tuccia’s parents are truly distraught over the situation and she can tell this experience has caused them to realize it’s their fault that she’s run away. They are beside themselves with worry and she senses a softening.”
“That’s wonderful news, Mamma.” When he could, he’d relay that message to Tuccia. “Tell me about Ciro.”
“If there are no more complications, he’ll be taken to a private room tomorrow.”
“We’ll hope for the best. I have to hang up now, but I’ll call you soon. Bona notti, Mamma.”
* * *
It was ten after one in the afternoon and Tuccia still hadn’t finished cooking this latest recipe. She let out a moan. “These sfingi di San Giuseppe balls are all wobbly. I can’t make them even.”
Cesare chuckled. Nothing seemed to bother him. The man had arrived early that morning in jeans and a silky claret-colored open-necked
