Whisked Away By Her Sicilian Boss. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ upon her. She’d dreamed of her freedom forever. Now had come the moment for her escape.

      Madame Dufy, the owner, welcomed them inside. After fussing over Tuccia and telling her how excited she was for her forthcoming marriage to the comte, she took them back to the dressing room befitting a queen.

      “Delphine will be with you in just a moment with your gown. It’s as exquisite as you are, Princess.”

      The second she left, Tuccia turned to her mother, the Marchesa di Trabia of Sicily. “I need to go to the restroom.”

      “Surely not!”

      “I can’t help it. You know how I get when I’m nervous.”

      “You are impossible, Tuccia!”

      “If I don’t go, it might happen in here.”

      Her mother’s hands flew up in the air. “All right! But don’t take too long. We have a long list of things that must be done today.”

      “I’ll hurry, Mamma.”

      Yes, she’d hurry. Right out of the clutches of the comte!

      She knew he planned to assign her a bodyguard the moment they were married and never let her out of his sight for the rest of their lives. After overhearing him discuss it with her parents, who’d said she needed a strong hand, she’d been planning how to disappear.

      Tuccia opened the door and walked down the hall to the door of the bathroom. But she only went inside to leave her betrothal ring on the floor near the sink. Whoever found it could think what they wanted. After looking around to make sure no one had seen her, she rushed down another hallway straight out the back door of the shop.

      From there it was only a short run down the alley used for delivery trucks to the street where she climbed in a taxi.

      “Le Bourget Aeroport, s’il vous plait.”

      Her heart refused to stop thudding as they drove off. She looked behind her. No one had come running out of the alley chasing after her yet. Tuccia prayed all the way to the airport where she boarded an Eljet chartered for her under a fake name and paid for her by her aunt Bertina. Once it landed in Palermo, Sicily, she’d take a taxi to her aunt’s palazzo.

      Before long Tuccia’s favorite person in the whole world would be offering her sanctuary. Her life would continue to depend on Bertina’s help, or all was lost.

      The next day, Milan, Italy

      Dinner had concluded in the private dining room of the legendary fourteenth-century castello, the home of the former first Duc di Lombardi in Milan, Italy.

      Vincenzo Gagliardi, the present-day duc, lifted his goblet with the insignia of the Gagliardi coat of arms. “Buona fortuna this trip, Cesare. Our business is depending on you. May you return with my wife’s replacement soon. The baby will be here in two months. I want Gemma off her feet ASAP.”

      “Amen,” Takis declared, raising his glass. “You’re going to have to be quick, amico.” He touched his goblet to Cesare’s, and they sipped the local vintage Lombardia that Vincenzo had produced from the vast wine cellar for his send-off.

      Cesare Donati eyed his two best friends with a smile. They’d been like brothers to him for more than a decade. Together they’d turned the former fortress palace of Vincenzo’s family into the five-star Castello Supremo Hotel and Ristorante di Lombardi, Europe’s most sought-after resort.

      “I have a surprise for you. I’ll be back in two days with our new pastry chef. I told Gemma as much this morning.”

      “That soon?” they said in unison.

      “It’s been arranged for a while, so have no concerns.”

      His friends smiled in relief. For Cesare’s contribution to their successful enterprise, he’d already found the perfect person to replace Gemma as the castello’s new executive pastry chef.

      But he’d been keeping the identity of his choice a secret until he could present Ciro Fragala in person with one of his many specialties for their delectation.

      Vincenzo’s wife had learned to make Florentine pastry from her mother who’d cooked for the last duc. Though her cooking was perfection and drew the elite clientele that came to the castello, in Cesare’s opinion the best cook in the world was his own Sicilian mother.

      She’d learned from the nuns who made divine pastries and ran the orphanage where she’d been raised until she turned eighteen. On her say-so—and she would know better than anyone else—Cesare had done the necessary research on Signor Fragala, the pastry cook she’d declared to be the finest in all Sicily. After a visit to the Palermo restaurant with his mother two months ago, he’d agreed totally with her assessment.

      Hiring Ciro meant sensational new desserts for their business enterprise in Milan. The two of them had met with the fifty-five-year-old widower several times in the last few weeks. The chef had said he would leap at the chance to work at the famous castello restaurant.

      Since he didn’t have children, it wouldn’t be a problem to move. He’d given his notice and Cesare planned to fly him to Milan. The new chef would work well with their executive French chef at the castello. Most of all, the guys would be pleased by the man’s amiable personality.

      “We’ll drive you to the airport,” Vincenzo stated.

      Cesare shook his head. “Thanks, but you’ve done enough by surprising me with this dinner. You’ve both got pregnant wives who’ve been generous enough to let us have this meal together. By now they’ll be wondering where you are. The limo is waiting as we speak.”

      “Then we’ll walk you out,” Vincenzo murmured.

      “Grazie.”

      He drained the rest of his wine and got to his feet. Reaching for the suitcase he’d left by the double doors, he moved ahead of them to the portrait-lined corridor of the former ducs with their legendary silvery eyes.

      “Stay safe,” Takis said as Cesare climbed in the rear of the limo.

      “Always.”

      Vincenzo smiled. “We can’t wait to meet this mystery paragon of pastry chefs.” He patted Cesare’s shoulder and shut the door before it drove away from the castello.

      Two hours later, the Lombardi ducal jet arrived at Palermo International Airport, where another limousine waited for him on the tarmac. Cesare told the driver to take him to the posh Mondello borough. It was there he’d bought a villa in the famed art nouveau style for his mother and sister who was now married and lived in the city with her husband and their toddler.

      He’d wanted nothing but the best for his wonderful mamma, Lina Donati.

      She would never leave Palermo. After being raised by the nuns and learning how to cook from them, she’d started out working in a local restaurant after leaving the orphanage.

      Her subsequent marriage was short-lived. Abandoned by her husband, she’d cooked her way through life to support their little family and had made a name for herself. Cesare believed she made the best food on earth. In her honor he’d had a state-of-the-art СКАЧАТЬ