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 his 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.
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.