- Home
- Rebecca Winters
Whisked Away by Her Sicilian Boss Page 7
Whisked Away by Her Sicilian Boss Read online
Page 7
“You don’t have to compliment me back.” Yes, she did. She owed him her life right now. “Let me prove it to you.”
Tuccia watched him pull out his cell phone and make a call to Vincenzo, the present Duc di Lombardi. They talked for a few moments before he hung up.
“Vincenzo’s wife, Gemma, will be arriving within the hour. Shall we eat the breakfast I brought now? Then I’ll clean up the kitchen while you get ready for our guest.”
A slight gasp escaped her lips. “Why would she be coming here?”
He reached for the bag of food and set it on the table. “You’ve passed your first test by baking a dessert the castello ristorante would be proud to serve. But this is only the beginning if you decide to accept the daunting challenge facing you.”
She averted her eyes. “You’re right. It’s so daunting, I’m terrified.”
“Be frank with Gemma and see what happens.”
“What’s she like?”
“Only a few years older than you and one of the nicest, kindest women I’ve ever known.”
“Besides being a master pastry chef.”
He nodded. “A chef who’s about to become a mother. She can’t wait for their baby to arrive and is anxious to let someone else take on her former mantle.”
“Which no doubt you will be doing before the day is out, Cesare. Please forgive me if I skip breakfast. That was very kind of you to bring it, but I’m afraid I can’t eat anything right now.”
She rushed to the bedroom to take a shower and change into jeans and a knit top. Tuccia had only packed a few understated clothes at Bertina’s because she knew she would have to travel light on her trip to Catania and didn’t dare stand out.
After being sheltered at Lina Donati’s villa for one night, she could never have known she would end up here in Milan to face a situation undreamed of.
Be frank with Gemma.
Tuccia interpreted that to mean she must put the princess part of herself aside. For once she had to dig down to her core and decide if she thought she could pull this off.
This could all end in a second if she asked Cesare to call Vincenzo back and tell him not to bring his wife to the pensione. Within a few minutes Tuccia could be driven to the train.
That would leave Cesare to take on the exclusive role of executive pastry chef until he found someone else exceptional, or until Signor Fragala recovered.
But for Tuccia, it would mean never seeing him again. Her heart told her she couldn’t handle that. He’d become too important to her.
Sucking in her breath, she reached for the brush to style her curls. Once she’d applied some light makeup and lipstick, she left the bedroom to face what was coming.
* * *
Cesare walked outside when he saw Vincenzo’s Mercedes pull up in front. While his friend came around from the other side, Cesare helped a blonde, very pregnant Gemma out of the front seat and kissed her cheek. “Thanks for coming.”
“It’s my privilege. How à propos that the princess is staying here in the same apartment I did.”
“I thought it the safest place to conceal her.”
“You’ve found the perfect spot tucked out of the way. It takes me back to those first days when I left the pensione to meet you for the first time. I was shaking in my boots to be interviewed by the internationally famous restaurateur owner of the Castello Supremo Hotel and Ristorante di Lombardi.”
“I would never have known it, Gemma. When you told me your mother’s pastry would always be the best, I felt an immediate affinity to you since I felt the same way about my mother’s Sicilian cooking. Your desserts were divine.”
She kissed his cheek. “Little did I know I would come face to face with Vincenzo when I thought he’d disappeared from my life forever.”
Her husband put his arm around her nonexistent waist. “None of us will forget that day. I too thought I’d lost the love of my life. Grazie a Dio we found each other.”
While his friend chose that moment to kiss Gemma thoroughly, Cesare went back inside the apartment. Tuccia had come in the small living room looking so appealing he’d have liked to do the same thing to her. He was in serious trouble because he knew he couldn’t hold back much longer in showing her how he felt.
“They’re coming,” he said, after answering the question in her misty gray eyes, which were more noticeable because of her black fringed lashes and black hair. She had the most remarkable coloring and light olive complexion. With her oval face and alluring mouth, she looked so irresistible he had to force himself to look away or he’d make her uncomfortable.
He heard the others file inside. “Princess Tuccianna, allow me to present two of my dearest and closest friends, Vincenzo Gagliardi, the Duc di Lombardi, and his wife Gemma.”
“It’s a real honor for me.” Tuccia shook their hands.
“We’re the ones honored, Princess,” Vincenzo declared. Cesare could tell his friend was bowled over by her beauty, a feat that didn’t happen often.
“Please, just call me Tuccia. Won’t you sit down? I feel a fraud inviting you into this pensione Cesare not only found for me, but is paying for until I can reimburse him.”
Cesare noted she was always grace itself. The spoiled princess as reported in the news wasn’t the same person he’d pulled against his body a few nights ago for fear she would fall.
“Your desperate situation has called for drastic measures. I had a similar experience in my late teens and was anxious for any help I could get.” Leave it to Vincenzo to make her feel comfortable.
“Nevertheless I’ve put all of you in a dangerous position simply by being here and want you to know I’m ready to leave after we’ve talked.”
Gemma got up from the couch. Cesare noticed that she was a little slower these days. “Tuccia? Before there’s any talk like that, why don’t you and I go in the kitchen where we can be private and let the guys talk business in here.”
Cesare nodded. “That’s a good idea.” He watched Tuccia follow Gemma into the kitchen. She might be nervous now, but before long she’d realize she couldn’t be in better hands than Gemma’s. His gaze swerved to his friend.
“How does your wife really feel about this?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“She ate one of the tarts I took back to our room. When she’d finished, she said, ‘I know this was Cesare’s recipe, but if Tuccia can make all his Sicilian desserts as exquisite as these, the castello is going to gain a new following.’”
“That’s high praise, Vincenzo.”
“Gemma is nothing if not truthful.”
“If by any chance this works out, I’ll insist Tuccia live here and make each dessert in the kitchen first. It will help her feel confident before she leaves for the castello every morning to manage her assistants. But I’m afraid that without the right disguise, someone will recognize her and the police will descend.”
Vincenzo flashed him a subtle smile. “Meeting her explains a lot. She’s a genuine knockout, Cesare. Gemma will be hard-pressed to come up with something that hides her beauty.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I don’t think I have to, amico.”
No. And the second Takis laid eyes on her, Cesare was in for it. “Was there anything on the morning news I should be concerned about yet?”
“Nothing. The police are at a standstill. Her parents have offered ten million euros for the person who finds her.”
“Only ten for their precious daughter?” he bit out in disgust.
“No doubt the comte’s reward will be forthcoming before the day is out.”
Cesare looked over his shoulder at Tuccia who was deep in conversation with Gemma. “I wonder how much he’d be willing to pay for her safe return. But it won’t matter when he gets her letter explaining why she ran away.” Cesare confid
ed that he’d couriered it to his attorney in Barbados who would send it on.
“That was excellent thinking.”
“She’s been suffering terrible guilt.”
“Understandable.”
“But that part is done. When I arrived here this morning and saw that she’d already been up three hours making the recipe again, I knew for a fact that no amount of money would ever induce her to go back to him.”
Vincenzo’s brows lifted. “How did she do?”
“Hold on. I’ll show you.”
Cesare got up and walked into the kitchen. “Scusa, ladies.” He plucked one of the round pans off the counter and took it into Vincenzo.
His friend reached for an iced tart and ate it in two bites before nodding in satisfaction. “After Gemma and I leave here, we’ll drive into Milan and take the rest of these to my cousin and his wife to taste. Dimi will be in shock when we tell him what has happened.”
“Who will be in shock, mia cara?” Gemma had just come back in the living room with Tuccia. Both men stood up.
“I thought we’d visit Dimi before we go back to the castello and let them sample Tuccia’s nun buns. Did you get your business done?”
“We’re off to a good start, aren’t we, Tuccia?”
“Your wife has encouraged me to give it a try for which I’m very grateful.” The relief on her face was tangible.
“Meraviglioso!” Vincenzo picked up the pan and helped his wife out the door to his car. Cesare knew how happy his friend was that someone else was going to be doing the work Gemma had done for so long.
He shut the door and turned to the woman who was transforming his life in ways he couldn’t have imagined days ago. “I’m sure you have a great deal to discuss with me.”
She nodded. “Thankfully Gemma is going to work two more days while I keep cooking desserts here at the apartment. Then it’ll be my first day in the castello kitchen. She’ll acquaint me with everything and stay long enough to introduce me to the staff before I’m on my own.”
“You won’t be alone. I’ll be there in the background until you get your bearings. But tell me what it is that concerns Gemma the most?”
“A disguise for me, especially for my hair.”
Her crowning glory was a dead giveaway. “Why don’t you freshen up. Then we’ll drive to the uniform shop in Milan used by the kitchen help. We’ll find something that works. You’ll have to wear your scarf and sunglasses.”
“It’ll be wonderful to get out for a little while.” He could imagine. “I’ll hurry.”
After she disappeared, he reached in the fridge for a soda. Their shopping spree would include a stop to the grocery store. Once that was done they’d pick up some takeout and bring it back to the apartment for a meal. Toward evening they’d get busy working on a couple of new desserts. He loved being alone with her.
* * *
Tuccia hurried out to his sports car. Once again she had that sensation of being spirited away where nothing could hurt her. But this time she wanted Cesare to be more than her protector. Though he’d kissed her several times, she wanted... She wanted the impossible.
He drove them into Milan with expertise and parked in front of a shop labeled Uniforme di Oggi. “Remember to keep your head mostly down.”
“I will.”
She couldn’t get over the huge selection of chef apparel at the back. While she was taking it all in, Cesare seemed to know exactly what he wanted.
“Here. Try this on.”
Cesare handed her a short-sleeved white lab coat that fell above the knee. After she put it on, he shook his head. “It needs to be larger to cover a T-shirt and chef’s pants.” He handed her a coat two sizes bigger. She tried it on.
“That will do fine. We’ll take six of them. Now for six sets of pants and T-shirts that fit. Everything white.”
Once she’d pulled the clothes off the racks and handed them to the clerk, they walked over to the counter to look at the chef hats and beanies of all kinds. Again, Cesare already had something in mind and reached for the traditional white floppy hat.
He handed it to Tuccia. “Go in the changing room and try it on where no one will see you. If it’s not the right fit, call outside the door to me and I’ll get the right one.” They walked down the little hall. “Don’t get any ideas about slipping out the back way, or you’ll be on your own, Principessa.” He said it with a slow smile that sent a river of warmth through her body.
Once inside, she removed her scarf and tried on the hat. It was too big. She told him as much. He returned in a minute with a smaller version. This one was just right. It would keep her hair snug inside and prevent any strands from slipping.
She put the scarf and glasses back on before emerging. “This one is the right size.”
“Good. We’ll take six of them.”
He walked her over to the counter and before long they left the shop for his car with her new clothes. Talk about fun. Being with Cesare like this was turning out to be the happiest day of her life. To know the two of them would be working together for months and months was her idea of heaven. She didn’t care how hard she had to work.
He drove her around to another store featuring eye glasses. “Stay in the car. I’ll be right back.”
With his brown hair and tall male physique, he made every man walking along the street look pathetic in comparison. When he came out of the store a few minutes later and flashed her a smile, she couldn’t breathe. He handed her a bag with several sets of eye glasses for her to choose from.
“I have an idea,” he announced. They’d already left the city for the village. “I’ll pick up a meal and ask Takis to join us. My other partner needs to meet you. When he walks in the apartment, I want you to be wearing a complete chef’s outfit. Of course he knows what you look like. If you can pass his inspection, then we’ll know we have a chance that your identity will remain a secret.”
“It has to,” she whispered.
For a second time in several days Cesare reached for her hand and squeezed it. “This is going to work, Tuccia.” She got the feeling he wanted this to work as much as she did. Soon they reached the grocery store and he let go of her. “I’ll try not to be too long.” He turned on the radio. “In case you want to listen.”
While he was gone taking his warmth with him, she moved the tuner and heard the top-of-the-hour news. Her disappearance was still the lead story and a reward was being offered for help in finding her.
How odd that she felt so removed from the princess they were describing. In just a few days she felt like she’d turned into someone else. People were walking around the village and here she was, right in the middle of them with no one the wiser.
Cesare’s energy was something to behold. He came back to the car loaded with more groceries and their dinner. She smiled at him. “That was fast. I’m sorry I couldn’t be of help.” She would adore shopping for groceries with him. Anything where they could be together.
He started the car. “One day all this will be behind you. Let’s go home. I gave Takis a call. He’ll be here at five which doesn’t give you much time to work on your disguise.”
“I have an idea about what to do with my hair. If I pull on a nylon stocking first, it will help keep it in place.”
“That ought to work. Do we need to buy you some nylons?”
“No. I have a pair with me. Do you think it will be all right if I wear my leather sandals?”
“If they’re comfortable, I don’t see why not.”
When they reached the pensione, she got out and helped carry in the bags. “I’ll put the clothes in my bedroom.”
“Don’t come out until you’ve morphed into a chef. I admit I can’t wait to see what you look like.”
Neither could Tuccia. After a quick shower she put on a pair of
white semi-baggy drawstring pants. Next came the short-sleeved crew neck T-shirt. Now for the tricky part. She took off the scarf and rummaged in the dresser drawer for a stocking.
She fit it around her head so no hair could escape and pinned it to the crown. After grabbing a chef’s hat and sack of eye glasses, she dashed in the bathroom. First she pulled out a pair of the clear lenses with neutral brown frames. Very professional looking. They fit over her ears just fine. Then she put on the hat, slanting the floppy part. The whole thing actually worked. She didn’t recognize herself.
Tuccia normally wore a melon colored lipstick. She decided that wouldn’t do and wiped off all traces. Pleased with the effect, she went back in the bedroom and pulled on the lab coat. It had pockets and seven buttons down the front opening, leaving the top of the T-shirt exposed. Her figure was non-existent, but that was the whole point.
Still dressed in her sandals, she felt ready for the fashion show. With pounding heart she tiptoed in the living room and found Cesare putting the groceries away. He’d laid the table for their dinner.
“Signor? May I have your attention, per favore?”
He wheeled around with a sack of flour in his hand. But when he saw her, it dropped to the counter, reminding her of the night in his mother’s kitchen. She burst into laughter at the shock on his painfully handsome face.
She moved into the kitchen. “Perhaps you don’t recognize me. I’m the new executive pastry chef at the Castello Supremo Hotel Ristorante in Milan, Italy. I can see by your expression that I’ve achieved a certain amount of success in that department, signor.”
Loving this, Tuccia turned around like a model on a runway. “If you’ll take a closer look, you’ll see the detail of the stitching on the pockets of this stunning creation.” His eyes played everywhere, as if trying to figure out where she’d gone.
“Pay attention to the large puffy hat, the latest in chic chef wear. This designer was chosen by the world famous five-star restaurateur Cesare Donati. He features nothing but the best in his kitchens, whether here or in New York. It’s the greatest privilege I’ve ever known to be working for him.”