Whisked Away By Her Sicilian Boss. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ to a bad back from being on her feet all the time, she now cooked exclusively for Bertina Spadaro, who wasn’t a demanding employer. Cesare had begged her to retire. He would take care of her forever. But his mother said she couldn’t imagine not having work to do and she loved Bertina. The aristocratic older sister of the Marchesa di Leonardi di Trabia had become her friend.

      The Leonardi family descended from the royal Sicilian family of the commune of Trabia, thirty miles from Palermo, and could trace their roots back to the 1400s, when the land and castle were granted them by Frederick III. The present marchese and marchesa had established their own palazzo in the heart of Palermo.

      Bertina and Lina had become fast friends over the years and were in each other’s confidence. The rest of the time his mother spent with Cesare’s family, or tended her spectacular herb garden.

      The elite area of Mondello had everything: exclusive yachting clubs dotting its sandy beach, restaurants, shops and a marina with numerous yachts, including the marchese’s gleaming white royal yacht that stood out from the others.

      Before buying the villa for her, Cesare, too, had been captivated as he’d walked through the sand of its private beach front, inhaling the air filled with the heady scent of orange blossoms and jasmine. Whenever he flew to Palermo, Cesare was reminded that with all its rich history, there was nowhere else in the world he found more fascinating.

      But tonight as they drove into the ancient, colorful city, he was met with the strong smells of fish and spices that always brought back memories of his youth. There was a hint of the old Arab souks, taking him back to his childhood. As a boy, these streets with their subtle niches and labyrinths had been his backyard.

      His father had been in the merchant marines, but ran off before Cesare was a year old, leaving his mother to work in a trattoria and support him and his older sister Isabella. They’d lived in the apartment above it in a rougher neighborhood of Palermo. Cesare’s world had been filled with lots of purse snatchers, few showers that usually didn’t work, grueling heat. Everything had been run-down and chaotic.

      Since he’d been too young to remember his father, he didn’t miss him, only the idea of him. Cesare had envied his friends who had fathers and taught them things. Early in life he’d felt embarrassed at times that he was the only one who went to mass unaccompanied while the other boys walked in the church with their own fathers.

      As he grew up, the embarrassment went away, but he lacked the confidence he saw in his friends whose sense of belonging seemed to give them an extra layer of it.

      Cesare couldn’t comprehend a man abandoning his wife and children, never caring about them again. Sometimes in his teens he’d dreamed about meeting his father, but those dreams were unsatisfactory because his father always turned away from him. The dreams eventually stopped, but not the feeling that there was something lacking in him.

      At the age of thirty, Cesare was living a different life. Thanks to the college mentor who’d taught him and his partners how to invest, his worth now figured in the billions. But the past could never be forgotten and had formed him into the man he’d become.

      Over time he’d seen enough to decide romantic love was transitory at most. Of course there were exceptions, like his partners’ marriages. But at this stage in his life Cesare wasn’t that confident that he was marriage material. He hadn’t witnessed two parents loving each other. So far he felt he was better off alone like his mother. With a sister and brother-in-law and their daughter Elana, Cesare was happy enough with the family he loved.

      In fact he had all he needed, including the occasional relationship with a woman. There was no guarantee that one would stay with him if he did get married, or that it would last.

      Or that he might not be more like his father than he thought...

      From time to time that thought haunted him because he hadn’t met a woman who meant everything to him. Maybe he’d subconsciously pushed them away so he didn’t have to deal with commitment. Though he didn’t want to bring up past pain to his mother, one of these days he would have a talk with her about the man who’d disappeared on their family, on him.

      When the limo finally reached the villa, Cesare put his darker thoughts away and paid the driver before getting out. His mother was expecting him, and knew he’d be flying Ciro Fragala back to Milan with him the next day. But it was close to one o’clock. She always went to bed early.

      He’d told her not to wait up and they’d talk in the morning before Ciro arrived at the villa in a limo Cesare had arranged for ahead of time. The man would be shipping his belongings to Milan and he’d stay in a room at the castello until he decided where he wanted to live.

      Every time Cesare came to Palermo, he was charmed by the large ochre-colored villa spread over two floors with three beautiful terraces and a Mediterranean garden. The small pool was lined with glazed tiles of North African origin.

      From the terrace off the dining room he was met with a glorious view of the Gulf front. It was a sight he’d always loved after climbing the bluff called Mount Pellegrino many times in his youth. From there he could imagine himself escaping the suffocating heat and madness of the city and sailing away to America. Incredibly that dream had come true.

      Once he’d entered the foyer, he turned off the outside light and moved across the stone tiles of the villa in the dark to the kitchen with his suitcase. After setting it down, his first instinct was to grab himself a small bottle of his favorite grappa digestivo from the cabinet where he knew it was kept, then head upstairs to his suite with it. Before sleep, all he wanted was to take a few sips to remind him he was back in the land of his roots.

      But as he turned to pick up his suitcase, he bumped into another body and heard a cry.

      “Mamma?” He automatically hugged her to him. “Mi dispiace tanto. I didn’t think you’d be up this late. Did I hurt you?”

      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. СКАЧАТЬ