Whisked Away by Her Sicilian Boss Read online

  That’s when the bottle slipped from his hand and cracked on the floor. But the strong scent of the 60 proof alcohol wasn’t nearly as shocking as the feel of the woman in his arms.

  She wasn’t built anything like his wiry brunette mother or her housekeeper who came in several times a week. In fact she was taller than both of them. To add to his surprise, the flowery scent from her hair and skin intoxicated him. It took him a second to gather his wits.

  “Don’t move. There’s broken glass. I’ll turn on the light.” He let her go and walked to the doorway to flip the switch. Cesare was shocked yet again.

  If he didn’t know better, he would think he’d released a gorgeous enchanted princess from her bottle. Her stunning figure was swathed in a lemon silk robe. Thank heaven she was wearing sandals. Between her medium-length black curls and eyes gray as the morning mist off the ocean, his gaze managed to swallow her whole before he realized she looked familiar to him. He knew he’d seen her before but couldn’t place her.

  She stared back as if disbelieving before taking a few steps away from the wet mess on the stone flooring. A hand went to her throat. “You’re Cesare,” she murmured, sounding astonished.

  “I’m afraid you’ve got me at a disadvantage, signorina.” Maybe he was in the middle of a fantastic dream, but so far he hadn’t awakened. Quickly he walked over to the utility closet for a cloth and brush to pick up the glass and clean the floor.

  “My name is Tuccia. I’m so sorry to have startled you.”

  Tuccia. An unusual name.

  Tuccia. Short for... Princess Tuccianna of Sicilian nobililty?

  Over the years there’d been photos of her in the newspapers from time to time, mostly stories about her escapades away from the royal palazzo where she got into trouble with friends and was seen partying in local clubs to the embarrassment of the royal household. But Cesare had never seen her up close.

  The latest news in the Palermo press reported she was engaged to be married to some French comte who lived in Paris and was one of the wealthiest men in France.

  No. It couldn’t be, yet he realized it was she.

  “I’m afraid I don’t recognize it,” he dissembled until he could work out why the daughter of the Marchese and Marchesa of the ancient Sicilian House of Trabia, was in his mother’s villa.

  “You probably wouldn’t. It’s not common.”

  She was trying to put Cesare off, but he intended to get to the bottom of this mystery. “Did Mamma hire you to be a new maid?”

  She averted her eyes. “No. Signora Donati allowed me to stay with her for tonight.” He frowned, not having known anything about this. Why hadn’t his beloved mother told him what to expect when he arrived? “I—I thought I heard a noise, signor,” she stammered, “but I didn’t have time to turn on the light.”

  “No. We were both taken by surprise,” he murmured, still reeling from the sensation of her incredible body clutched to his so she wouldn’t fall.

  Cesare had enjoyed various relationships with attractive women over the years, but he’d never gotten into anything serious. Yet the feel and sight of the beautiful young princess, whose face was like something out of Botticelli, had shaken him.

  “I guess you know you have the most wonderful mother in the world,” she gushed all of a sudden, breaking in on his private thoughts. He was amazed by her comment. It had sounded completely sincere.

  He closed the utility door and turned to her, growing more curious by the second. “I do. How did you two meet?”

  His question caused her to hesitate. “I think it would be better if you ask her. I’m truly sorry to have disturbed you and will say goodnight.” She darted away, leaving him full of questions and standing there wide awake in the trail of her fragrance.

  The princess, reputed to be a spoiled, headstrong handful, had elegance and manners. Damn if she didn’t also have an unaffected charm that had worked its way beneath his skin.

  He took a deep breath. Though Cesare didn’t like waking his mother, he knew there’d be no sleep until he had answers. Before heading upstairs to her bedroom, he opened the cabinet for another bottle of grappa. All he found was a half-opened bottle of cooking sherry.

  That’s what he got for not turning on the light earlier. That and the memory of a moment in time he feared wasn’t about to let him go.

  * * *

  With a pounding out-of-control heart, twenty-five-year-old Principessa Tuccianna Falcone Leonardi rushed to the guest room down the hall at the rear of the villa. She should never have made a trip to the kitchen, but needed something to drink. Lina had told her to help herself to anything, including the soda she kept on hand in the fridge.

  Being crushed unexpectedly against a hard male body in the dark had come as such a huge surprise that her mind and body were still reeling. She could still feel the male power of him and smell the faint scent of the soap he’d used in the shower. The combination had completely disarmed her.

  After he’d turned on the kitchen light, she’d had her first look at Lina’s tall, incredibly attractive brown-haired son. Tuccia knew of him, but had no idea that Lina had given birth to the most striking man she’d ever seen in her life. Those deep blue eyes and his masculine potency had managed to make such an indelible impression her heart still kept turning over on itself.

  “I didn’t know there was a man in Palermo who looked like that,” she whispered to herself. Tuccia was positive there wasn’t another one in all Europe who could match him.

  More than ever she was revolted at the thought of marrying her forty-year-old French fiancé who had only stared at her with lust. The fabulously wealthy Comte Jean-Michel Ardois, who would soon inherit the title after his ailing father passed away, was always trying to touch her, and lately more and more inappropriately.

  On occasion she’d seen him be quite ruthless with the people who worked for the Ardois family. He was a cold, calculating man whom she could never love or bring herself to marry.

  Her betrothal at the age of sixteen had been a political necessity arranged by her parents, the Marchese and Marchesa di Trabia, whose funds needed constant bolstering. Since that time she’d felt doomed to an existence she’d dreaded with every fiber of her being.

  After careful planning, she’d seized the moment to run away twenty-four hours before the ceremony was to take place. Taking flight from the boutique, she’d flown back to her home in Sicily. Thanks to her Zia Bertina, her mother’s widowed elder sister, she’d been given the help she needed to escape on that jet.

  Bertina lived in her own palazzo in Palermo where she entertained close friends and loved Tuccia like the child she’d never been able to have. Tuccia’s zia was a romantic who’d always been in sympathy with her niece’s tragic situation, and had prevailed on her cook, Lina Donati, to let her hide at her villa overnight. In the meantime she was still trying to arrange transport for Tuccia to stay with a distant cousin living in Podgorica in Montenegro until the worst of the scandal had passed.

  But Tuccia had placed her in a terrible position. Bertina had continued living in the palazzo after her husband died, but she needed monetary help on occasion. Tuccia’s zio, Pietro Spadaro, hadn’t been a wealthy man. If Tuccia’s parents got angry enough at Bertina, they could stop giving her extra money. They might throw her out of the only home she’d known since her marriage.

  Worse, if they knew Bertina had involved a cousin in another country, let alone asked such a desperate favor of her adored cook to help solve Tuccia’s problems, who knew how ugly the situation could get. If Bertina were forced to lose the palazzo and any extra money, she wouldn’t be able to pay Lina for being her cook. Lina could be out of a job for harboring her. All of it would be her fault.

  She couldn’t believe her bad luck in running into Lina’s son. Naturally he was going to wonder why she was here and question h
is mother. What she needed to do was get dressed and pack her bag so she’d be ready to steal from the villa at dawn before anyone was up.

  Tuccia knew a full-scale search by Jean-Michel and her parents had been underway for her since she had disappeared from the salon. At least with her gone from Lina’s villa, Bertina wouldn’t be implicated.

  She had saved enough money to take a bus and travel to Catania where she could get a job through a friend who would help her. If she were careful, she could subsist for a while. She didn’t dare access her bank account even though its pitiful balance had never been big enough to pay for as much as an airline ticket.

  Tuccia had no idea how long she would have to remain hidden. But even if it meant being disowned and disinherited, it didn’t matter because she’d rather be dead than have to marry Jean-Michel. She was sickened at the thought of him taking her to bed, let alone living with him for a lifetime.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CESARE SAT AT the side of his mother’s bed, still trying to comprehend what she’d just told him. “Apparently you and Princess Tuccianna have enjoyed a relationship you never told me about.”

  “Only since I started cooking for Bertina two years ago. Until tonight I’d been sworn to secrecy. She needs help desperately, Cesare.”

  He reached for her hand. “Don’t you know what a terrible position this has put you in, Mamma? The authorities from two governments are looking everywhere for her. Her jilted fiancé could be dangerous. He has the kind of money and power that could crush you. If her parents found out you gave her shelter, your name could be ruined. You could lose your job with Bertina. They could make life miserable for you.”

  “It’s Tuccia’s life I’m worried about, not mine. You know how I feel about titles. It’s a feudal system. No young woman should have to marry a man almost twice her age because of money and power. You can’t imagine how frightened Bertina is for her niece. The comte will impose his will on her. She’s very beautiful. And you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Cesare was afraid he did. He’d seen first-hand the trouble that kind of will had created for Vincenzo and Vincenzo’s cousin Dimi. The two had grown up together at the castello and had suffered through tragedy together because of overpowering parental dominance over both of them.

  After Cesare had become close friends with the two royals he had learned their story, so he understood why the princess refused to be tied legally to a man who could do what he wanted to his young, helpless wife. Cesare was sickened by it himself, but his protective instincts had kicked in for his mother. He didn’t want her to be a part of this and he got up from the bed.

  “How long have you agreed to let her stay with you?”

  “Until Bertina has worked out an escape plan to get her to a distant relative in Montenegro no one will trace.”

  He shook his head. “Of course they will! That’s no plan,” he bit out.

  “I agree with you and I don’t like any of it, either. But the princess is desperate. Bertina has told me that the father, Comte Ardois, was promiscuous and notoriously unfaithful over the years. She has it on good authority that his son Comte Jean-Michel is exactly the same way.

  “He’s had a mistress on the side for a long time. I can’t bear that kind of life for her. Neither can she! Tuccia is like a lamb going to the slaughter. To me it’s criminal!”

  “What you’re telling me sounds like a repeat of the stories Vincenzo told me about life at the castello growing up.”

  “So you do understand that Tuccia is a young sweet girl and needs to get far away from him while she still can.”

  “Yes, but not at your expense.”

  “Someone has to step up. If I lose my job because of this, I’ll find another one. If that isn’t possible, then I will let you take care of me. The point is, the marchesa and her husband have never been concerned about their daughter’s feelings. They’ve spent their whole lives doing their royal duty and expect the same from Tuccia. The princess is alone in this. If Bertina hadn’t chartered that jet for her so she could leave Paris, Tuccia would have been forced to walk down the aisle today and be married to a monster.”

  His hands went to his hips. “But now she has you involved.”

  “Because I want to be. I like Tuccia very much. If she were my daughter, I’d do whatever I could to save her from such a wretched life. You’re the most brilliant, clever man I’ve ever known, figlio mio. If I asked for your help this one time, would you do it for your mamma?”

  Her blue eyes beseeched him. She was serious! He could see it and feel it.

  “What do you think I could do?”

  “Fly her to Milan tomorrow on the Gagliardi ducal jet with Ciro. Help her find a place to stay in the city where no one will think to look for her. She won’t be traced.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Is this the reason you let her stay here tonight? Because you knew I was flying in and planned to use me?”

  “Yes,” she answered with her usual refreshing honesty. “Have I ever asked you for a favor like this before? Time is of the essence.”

  “Mamma—” His head reared in exasperation.

  She sat up straighter in the bed. “I don’t see a problem. Tuccia’s crisis takes priority. That girl needs to be far away from here by tomorrow. It won’t hurt you to take her with you. Be sure she’s wearing a disguise. Signor Fragala won’t suspect who she is.”

  He stopped pacing. “He’ll recognize her once we’re on board.”

  “So you’ll swear him to secrecy. If he can’t be trusted, tell him you’ve changed your mind and won’t let him have the coveted chef position after all. It’s in your hands. Once you’ve settled her, you can take Ciro to the castello and get on with your business. Is that such a terrible thing to ask this one time?”

  Cesare couldn’t fathom that they were having this conversation at three in the morning. “There’s no place she won’t be recognized.”

  “Then take her to the castello with you. Smuggle her in a back entrance and hide her in one of the turret rooms for a few days. That will give her enough time to figure out a solid plan on her own. Besides being well-educated and well-traveled, she’s a very intelligent girl and resourceful.”

  “And according to the papers, impossible,” he added.

  “If you knew the truth, you wouldn’t judge her. Every time her name gets in the news, it’s because she has tried to run away from her family. But she always gets caught and is brought back. Her parents cover it up by saying that she’s an indulged, immature troublemaker. She’s the loveliest girl I’ve ever known, and it’s a tragedy how her life has been.”

  Such accolades for the princess shocked him. His mother wasn’t about to relent on this. She was a fighter who had a heart of gold. That was how she’d made it through life.

  “You’ll help me to help her, won’t you?”

  Cesare loved and admired his mother more than any woman he’d ever known. After the hundreds of sacrifices she’d made for him and his sister growing up, how could he possibly turn her down?

  Letting out a sigh he said, “Stop worrying. After Ciro arrives in the morning, I’ll take her to Milan tomorrow with us.” But not to the castello. He didn’t want the guys to know what was going on.

  “If you’ll do that for me, I’ll love you forever.”

  “I thought you already did,” he teased.

  Her eyes had filled with tears. “Oh, Cesare. My dear son. Ti amo.” She started to get out of bed, but her phone rang. Her eyes darted to his in alarm. “Maybe something’s wrong with your sister or my little granddaughter—”

  Cesare’s body stiffened. A phone call in the middle of the night could mean anything. Probably it was Bertina calling his mother to tell her the police were on their way over to the villa looking for the princess.

  She reached for the
cell phone on her bedside table and checked the caller ID. “It says San Giovanni Hospital.”

  He stood stock-still while he waited to find out what was going on, but his mother did little talking. Once she hung up, she looked at him with haunted eyes.

  “I’m afraid I have very bad news for you, Cesare.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ciro was rushed to the hospital a few hours ago with an infected lung and kidney. I thought he didn’t seem well when I visited the restaurant a few days ago and assumed he had a cold.

  “He must undergo an operation to drain off the fluid. The nurse said he had the presence of mind to ask the hospital to contact me before he lost consciousness.”

  “Santo Cielo,” Cesare murmured in disbelief. This whole night had turned into a bad dream. “The poor devil.”

  “It’s terrible.”

  “Get dressed and we’ll drive to the hospital in your car. Since he’s my responsibility, I’ll tell the hospital and take care of his medical bills.”

  “Bless you. I’m getting ready now, but I’ll visit him alone and be your go-between until he has recovered. Right now you’ve got to take care of the princess. The sooner, the better. That phone call could have been Bertina alerting me that the police were on Tuccia’s trail. There’s no time to lose.”

  There was no time for sleep, either, not while this situation continued. He walked to his suite to shower and change clothes for the flight back to Milan. Afterward he went downstairs to the kitchen to fix himself coffee. He found the delicious sweet rolls filled with ricotta and chocolate his mother always made for him when he came and ate several.

  During his early morning feast, his mother joined him before leaving for the hospital. After she went out to her car, he contacted the pilot to let him know they’d be returning to Milan shortly, then he arranged for a limo to come to the villa. Now all he needed was for the princess to make an appearance.