Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology

by Gina Kincade

  Alessandra's lips tightened. After all these years, she was still angry. "My mother never gave me the letter. She never told me I had something from Nona. I didn't find it until my mother died, and I had to go through her papers." She looked up. "It was an unforgivable thing to do, to keep it from me."

  Tem pursed his lips. "That's one way to look at it. The other way is to remember that she saved the letter. She could have disposed of it."

  "She should have given it to me," Alessandra said stubbornly.

  "You would not have been able to do anything with it."

  "It would have given me comfort. I never knew if Nona remembered me, if she still loved me, if she even was anything more than a dream from my past."

  Alessandra tilted her head back, trying to keep the tears that burned in her eyes from falling. Until she'd found the letter, she hadn't known if her memories were real, or cobbled together images of things that might have been nothing more than dreams. Her mother had never spoken of Austria, nor of anything they'd left behind. Her mother had been desperate to leave behind what she viewed as a gypsy life she wanted no part of.

  Rosie stood up and walked the short distance to Alessandra and looked up at her. If dogs could speak, she'd be asking why Alessandra looked so defeated. Instead, she gave a little whine, and settled her head on Alessandra's knee, as if to say, Here I am, and I offer whatever comfort I can. Alessandra leaned down to give her a hug.

  When she sat up again, she pointed to the letter. "I found this two years ago, and it gave me hope, Tem."

  She could recite the words by heart, and often had.

  Dearest Alessandra,

  Thanks be to all who watch over the Romany that you have received my letter. You know that I have always loved you. I always will.

  I pray that you love your new life in America. Perhaps it was a good move for you and your mother. That is my dearest wish, other than to see you one more time before I pass from this world.

  Your mother always hated our name. Do not forget it. Your name is Alessandra Ranieri. It is a proud name, despite what some may think.

  We Romany don't have the concept of home that many other peoples do. But you have non-Romany forebears as well, and you will have a need for home. You will return to Austria one day. Perhaps you remember the mountains of your birth, the stature and the beauty, the snows and the summer flowers.

  I leave to you, all of these gifts of God, and all that I possess.

  Akana mukav tut le Devlesa.

  Love, your Nona

  P.S. Look for Tem Plamen when you travel to Austria. He is a Romany, but he will settle one day. His parents live at this address. He will assist you.

  As if he'd recited the letter along with her memories, Tem repeated the Romany words, "Akana mukav tut le Devlesa." He translated them softly. "I now leave you to God."

  "She left me hope," Alessandra said. "A promise. A goal to reach for. I knew, as soon as I read the letter, that I would travel to Austria to claim my inheritance one day."

  A slight frown creased Tem's brow.

  "Not because it was valuable in a material sense," she hastened to add. "I knew it wasn't. But it was mine. It was an anchor to someone who loved me without reservation. Does that make sense, Tem?"

  "I can understand your thinking," he said carefully.

  "I can never give it up."

  Tem sighed. "Your grandmother never considered her home and land to be her possessions, let alone her most precious possessions."

  "How do you know that?"

  He shrugged. "She was a true Romany. That's the Romany way."

  "Could you give up your home?" she asked. "Without a qualm?"

  He smiled ruefully. "You've got me there. A man grows old...." His voice trailed off and they sat quietly for a few minutes, Alessandra enjoying the peace that came so naturally in Tem's home.

  "It gets to be nice," Tem said finally, "to have a spot to call home. Ten years ago, I might have said, 'The spirit is willing but the flesh gets weak.' Now—" He shrugged. "Even the spirit weakens."

  "I'm so glad you have this home, Tem." She got up, walked the few feet to his chair, and threw her arms around his shoulders. "You belong here, no matter how Romany-ish you might be."

  He smiled at her as she returned to her seat. "That's neither here nor there, child."

  "Tem." She bolted upright and leaned forward. "You have a clear title to this house, right?"

  Tem smiled. "Don't worry about me, child."

  "You said your parents owned it." She would not drop the subject, even if she angered him.

  "They did." His tone was calm. But something was a little off.

  "Do you have the papers?"

  He stroked the dog's head. "I'm settled here, Alessandra, and that's enough for me."

  Fear flared inside her. She was a paralegal. She knew enough about documentation and official matters to know that papers had to be in order.

  "Tem—"

  "Nona never reached my age, you know." It was the first time the man who always spoke with deliberation interrupted her. Alessandra knew instinctively that he was distracting her.

  "The truth is," Tem went on, "she was also stronger than me. She knew, deep in her heart, that no piece of property could ever provide security."

  "It's not the property itself, Tem. It's the fact that she left it to me, and that it holds my most precious memories. I need it."

  "You've experienced a lot of pain in your young life, Alessandra," Tem said, sorrow lacing his words. "But you know, you cannot live life without exposure to pain. Pain is the price for love. There is no other way."

  "I don't need love," she said fiercely. "I will settle for peace, a fulfilling routine, a simple place to call home. I don't need more."

  He shook his head. "You must strive for more. You must be willing to accept, even embrace, more. Never settle for a half-life."

  "Why are you so determined to discourage me from pursuing Nona’s property?" Alessandra asked. "This doggedness just doesn’t seem like you."

  Tem sighed. "I didn’t want to tell you. But maybe it’s best that I do."

  Alessandra bolted upright. "Tell me what?"

  "I had a visitor yesterday."

  Alessandra frowned. She’d been with Raul yesterday. So who’d visited Tem?

  Tem answered the question on her face. "A man named Stephano diCarlino."

  Alessandra’s gasp ricocheted around the small room. "What did he want?" Despite the gasp, she couldn’t breathe. Stephano was a lawyer. Raul’s lawyer.

  He’d come about her claim. Instinctively, she knew it.

  "You’ve told me," Tem said carefully, "that Raul doesn’t believe you are who you say you are."

  "Did you find out from Stephano why he cares so much?"

  Tem held up a hand. "I’ll tell you everything in good time. But I don’t want you getting all upset."

  Alessandra leaned forward. "I am already upset."

  "I know." Tem’s eyes watched her sadly. "The problem is that Raul wants the same land that you want."

  "What????" Alessandra couldn’t stop a screech from escaping. "But why? What claim does he have?" Terror gripped her now. It was worse than she’d imagined. How could she fight a man who was not only an heir to a dukedom, but also someone who actually lived in Austria?

  "Stephano said he had business reasons for wanting the land," Tem replied, his answer falling into the turmoil of her panicked thoughts.

  "Business?" She seized on the word. "But there’s nothing out there."

  Tem shrugged. "Perhaps he plans to put something out there. Stephano mentioned that the Stirling family owns a lot of the land surrounding your grandmother’s property."

  "And he needs more?" she snapped.

  "I have often found it worthwhile to give people the benefit of the doubt. We don’t know Raul’s situation, or the problems he may be facing that give rise to what might seem inexplicable to us."

  "There is no doubt. He wants to steal my i
nheritance." Alessandra had no time to listen to Tem’s moralizing. Her two weeks were running out.

  She stood up, temper burning brightly with her. "And I am not going to let him do it."

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next day, Alessandra declined a dinner invitation from Stephano.

  Even a hand-delivered note, with elegant calligraphy on a heavy card stock, didn't tempt her. It amazed her with its old-world formality. No Facebook blasts for these folks. But it didn't tempt her.

  Okay, that was a lie.

  She was tempted. She was pretty sure that Raul was behind the invitation. For whatever the reason, probably to trick her again, he wanted to remain in her orbit. She, with the same fervor, wanted to remain out of his. Because she wanted her Nona's home, her own home, a lot more than she wanted to play games with Raul whatever-his-last-name-was. He could keep his suspicions and his accusations, and leave her alone.

  Five minutes after she responded with a 'no', her phone rang. She glanced down, relieved to see it was Sarah Devonwood.

  "Hey, Sarah, what's up?"

  "You didn't say no to Stephano diCarlino," Sarah half-shrieked into her ear. "No one says no to him."

  "Why not? I hadn't heard that he was God."

  "But he's so nice! His parties are fab!"

  Alessandra frowned at her phone. "Where are you, Sarah?"

  "At Stephano's, of course."

  "What are you doing there? Are you done with your skiing holiday?"

  "Yeah, Devonwood got called back to London," Sarah said in a dismissive tone. "Everyone else went back with him, but I came on to Austria. Stephano's sister, Rafaella, is one of my BFFs."

  "You're at Stephano's house?" Alessandra knew she was repeating herself, but things were moving too fast for her. She hadn't been sure, despite Sarah's promise to keep in touch, that Sarah would pop back into her life ever, let alone the next day.

  "Yes! Didn't I just say so?" Sarah giggled. "Please re-consider your answer to Stephano. You must come to his party. I want to see you again. We'll have so much fun."

  Alessandra felt herself wavering. She'd felt a real bond with Sarah, despite the differences in their life circumstances. She liked Sarah's spirit, her effervescence, her willingness to meet life head-on in a positive way.

  "Is Raul there with you?" She knew it was an awkward question, but she had to know what she'd be facing.

  "I'm not sure," Sarah answered. "I haven't seen him. He doesn't party like he used to, before his brother died." For the first time ever, Sarah’s voice was subdued.

  Alessandra gasped. "What? He had a brother who died?"

  "Well, sure," Sarah said, a little uncertainly. "That's how he became the heir."

  Alessandra's heart started to pound as her entire view of Raul was stirred up and shaken, as if she were watching a kaleidoscope, and she didn't know what the image would be when it came to rest. "He wasn't raised the heir to the dukedom?"

  "I don't know much about it," Sarah admitted. "But he had an older brother who died in an accident, a couple of years ago, I think. It was a huge deal in the press."

  "I'm American," Alessandra said automatically. "I don't follow the European press." She didn't actually read any popular press. There was no time or money for that sort of thing.

  "Raul basically dropped out of sight." Sarah paused. "Now that I think about it, it seems more likely he won't be at the party. So you have to come. Not that I have any idea why you wouldn't want to hang out with a wicked hot guy like Raul."

  "He tricked me, Sarah. He lied to me. He led me on for his own ulterior motives."

  "Never mind all that now." Sarah disposed of Alessandra's worries blithely. "You can tell me all the deets when you get here." The liveliness was back in Sarah’s tone.

  Alessandra latched onto the only excuse she could think of. It had the virtue of being the truth. "I don't have any way to get to Stephano's. The address on the invitation wasn't in the city."

  "No, Stephano is about an hour south of the city. But don't worry about that. We could send a car for you. I have it all planned out." Sarah broke off to whisper something off-line. "Rafaella, Stephano's sister, says the car is free right after lunch. You could come out here, spend the afternoon gossiping with us, attend the party, and go home tomorrow. Perfect!"

  "Tomorrow? Where would I stay?" Alessandra could feel herself weakening. Today was Saturday. She couldn't do anything about proving her claim on the weekend. And, suddenly, Tem's little house, as wonderful as it was, seemed a little too confining for the whole weekend.

  "Why you'd stay here, of course." Sarah sounded a little surprised. "They have tons of room."

  Alessandra pictured a castle like the Stirling's. Or even like the royal palace. What had she gotten herself into? This was not her lifestyle.

  But she hadn't gotten the full measure of the Sarah treatment yet.

  "Good," Sarah chirped into the phone. "That's all settled. Text me your address. The car will be there at 1 o'clock."

  ***

  As Alessandra had expected, Stephano's home was something out of her world. The limo turned into gates that had opened as they approached. The car moved in its stately way down a long circular driveway. At the far end of the circle stood a massive stone mansion, rising out of a snow covered park like a griffin in a fairy tale. The front was lined with rows of sparkling windows, and the sun kissed the gray stone into warmth.

  She texted Sarah that she was arriving. Just as the driver reached the wide row of steps in front of the doors, the doors were flung open and Sarah rushed down the steps.

  "Thank you for coming!" Sarah called. She waited, with the air of one longing to jump up and down excitedly, as the chauffeur exited the car, walked around it, and opened the door for Alessandra. Alessandra got out, and found herself wrapped in a big Sarah hug. "This is going to be so much fun," Sarah exclaimed. She clasped Alessandra's hand and towed her up the broad steps.

  "My luggage—" She'd only brought an overnight case, actually her plane bag, but she didn't want to lose it.

  Sarah waved a careless hand. "Someone will get it."

  Wow. Alessandra could not imagine living with such ease. All the daily problems that plagued ordinary people seemed to disappear.

  "I need to talk with you," Sarah said, as she ushered her into a beautiful bedroom on the second floor of the mansion. The room was decorated in warm neutrals, so clean and pristine that Alessandra was almost afraid to sit down. Sarah plopped into one of the cream upholstered chairs in a sitting nook, and waved Alessandra to the other chair.

  "That sounds ominous," Alessandra answered. "I'm always nervous when someone says something like that."

  "Pooh. Nothing to worry about." Sarah smiled at her. "Merely, Raul is here."

  "Already? I thought you said he wasn't."

  "That was hours ago," Sarah said dramatically. "But I saw him at lunch. So I wanted to warn you. Even though you should be happy, because he has a thing for you."

  "You're misreading the situation," Alessandra started to explain. "He's actually mad at me."

  "You know, that picture of him kissing you in the snow was hot enough to melt that entire ski resort," Sarah said. "So tell me again how much he doesn't like you?"

  "He's attracted to me," Alessandra corrected. "He doesn't like me."

  "Why not?"

  The simple question hung in the air while Alessandra tried to sort through her options for explaining. Even though she knew there was only one option. She wanted to be friends with Sarah. So she had to tell her the truth.

  She tried to relax in the plush chair, but her memories made her tense. Still, she outlined it all for Sarah. The way Raul had denied her name. The way he was fighting for her grandmother's home. The way he'd taken her out of Austria to go skiing so the paparazzi would find her, and then track down her identity.

  Sarah oohed and aahed, but didn't interrupt until Alessandra finally sat back, finished.

  "Well," Sarah huffed. "There is on
ly one way to pay him back."

  "There is?" Alessandra eyed her friend. Already, she was pretty sure Sarah could be outrageous.

  "Yup." Sarah bounced on the chair. "You need to torture him."

  "Torture him?"

  "Yup," Sarah repeated. "Sexually, of course. That’s all guys care about."

  "Sexually?" Alessandra gasped. "I've never actually had sex with him. I can't—"

  "All the better," Sarah exclaimed. "Nothing tortures a guy more than wanting what he can't have."