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
