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
