Part of her had wanted to go to his office and thank him for this opportunity, but it was too difficult for her to be in such close proximity to him. She feared she wouldn’t be able to fight her attraction to him. But the other part of her would always struggle, because he hadn’t felt she was good enough to confide in before he’d disappeared. He’d created a deep wound that would never heal.
Where was the Vincenzo she would have done anything for? On his eighteenth birthday, she’d dared to eat a meal with him at a restaurant outside the castello, even knowing they could both get into terrible trouble.
Caught up in the memory, she drove to Cisliano and found a parking place at the end of the street near the Rho Bistro. She and Bianca had spent two divine hours here with Vincenzo and Dimi. The need to recapture that moment took her inside, but the place was packed. As she looked around, her gaze suddenly collided with a pair of silver eyes staring at her between black lashes.
Vincenzo—her heart knocked against her ribs. He was here?
She watched as he got to his feet and walked over to her. “It appears you and I had the same idea this evening. As you can see, the whole world is here. You’re welcome to join me at my table. I think I have the only free one left.”
Gemma couldn’t believe this had happened, but to turn him down would be churlish at this point.
“Thank you. I have to admit I’m starving.”
No sooner had he held a chair for her to sit down than the waiters started bringing the food. The menu included antipasto, risotto, sautéed mushrooms, roasted polenta and potatoes, with a dessert of limoncello and iced cookies.
After a few bites she said, “I had no idea you were here.”
“That works both ways.” He sipped his coffee. “Seeing you again has made me nostalgic for my happy past, and I found myself driving here. The meal we enjoyed on my birthday will always stand out in my mind.”
“Truthfully, I’ll never forget it, either,” she confessed. “On the way back to my flat, I decided to drive by and see if this place still existed. We were fed so much food, I didn’t think I would ever eat again.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“I was frightened someone from the castello would find out and word would get back to my mother. She would have grounded me forever.”
“Three weeks after my birthday, I was in New York, ending our one and only over-the-castello-wall experience.”
Over the wall was right! But Gemma didn’t want to think about the past and changed the subject.
“After the last meeting in the kitchen, Cesare told us to go home and get a good sleep before we report in the morning ready to dig in. I didn’t expect to see you here, but since we have bumped into each other, I’d like to thank you for giving me the opportunity to be the pastry chef. It is the chance of a lifetime.”
“If anyone should be doing the thanking, it’s me,” he came back unexpectedly. “When I saw you walk into the ballroom this morning, I was able to breathe again. Later in my office I started looking over the menus. You and Maurice stimulate the brilliance in each other. There’s no doubt in my mind the food at the Castello Supremo Ristorante will bring the world to our door.”
“Coming from you, that’s a great compliment.” But Gemma wished he’d stop being so...so nice and charming the way he’d been years ago, the way he’d been today during the orientation meeting.
He kept talking. “Cesare is the true expert. The light in his eyes after he’d studied the menus and handed them to me told me all I needed to know about how excited he is about our new chefs.” He drank more coffee.
“That’s very gratifying to hear.”
He flashed her a penetrating glance. “I can’t believe you aren’t married.”
She drank her limoncello too quickly and started coughing. Had he been hoping she’d found a man? Would it make him feel less guilty for disappearing from her life? Why not turn things around on him?
“What about you, Vincenzo? You’ve been in New York all this time. I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
His mouth tautened. “I’ve been too busy conducting business to think about getting married.”
No woman could resist him, so he couldn’t have suffered in that department. But there probably weren’t that many available princesses on the East Coast of the US to consider marrying. For that, he’d have to return to Europe. No doubt there’d been a short list compiled years ago for Vincenzo to consider.
She cleared her throat. “Labor-intensive work does have a way of interfering. Being an apprentice at the school hasn’t allowed me the time to consider marriage. They require nine to ten years from you. That doesn’t give you a spare moment to breathe.” Except for that one month with Paolo, which was a mistake.
“Understood. As long as we’re together, would you be willing to answer a question for me? Your last name is Rizzo, yet you used Bonucci on your application. Why?”
They were wading into dangerous waters now. “That’s a long story.”
“Is there some secret?”
Her eyes closed tightly. If he only knew.
“Bonucci is mother’s maiden name. When we moved to the apartment above my aunt’s bakery, Mamma told me to put Bonucci on my application. That way when I attended pastry school, it would be an easy identification with her family’s bakery.”
“Mirella was an intelligent woman and was always very kind to me and Dimi.”
Just hearing him say her mother’s name made her eyes smart. She nodded. “People love her. I love her terribly.”
“Gemma,” he murmured. “Don’t you know I’ve missed that old life more than you can imagine? I know she’s your whole world and you are hers. Interesting that after you left the castello, no one knew you as Gemma Rizzo. That’s why neither Dimi nor I could find you.”
Oh, no. She clenched her fists beneath the table. “Mamma would have done or said anything she could to—” Gemma stumbled “—to increase my chance to succeed.”
She knew by the flicker in his eyes that he’d caught her correction. Vincenzo was a shrewd, brilliant businessman, and she was afraid he wouldn’t let it go. “Your mamma got her wish. My colleagues have been praising your expertise.” Heat crept into her cheeks again, but this time anger wasn’t the culprit.
“That’s very nice to hear. Now I’ve got to go so I’ll be fresh for tomorrow.”
“Gemma,” he whispered. “What aren’t you telling me?”
The tone in his voice reminded her of the old Vincenzo. Slowly, steadily, he was breaking her down. His magic was getting to her. Damn, damn, damn. Her heart pounded so hard, she was certain he could hear it. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You forget I’ve known you since you were four years old. When you’re nervous or afraid, your voice falters. You did it just now. You said that your mother would have done or said anything to...to what, Gemma? You left out something of vital importance. What was it?”
She felt sick inside. “You’re wrong.”
“Now your cheeks are red. They always fill with color when you’re not telling the truth.” He wouldn’t stop until he’d wrung it out of her.
Vincenzo, Vincenzo. “Mamma said I had to say my last name was Bonucci in order to...protect me.”
His handsome face darkened with forbidding lines. “From whom?”
“I—it was a long time ago and doesn’t matter.”
He let out an oath, and his brows formed a black bar above his eyes. “Did you get into trouble that night after you left my room? I still had to stay in bed the next day, so I didn’t see you.”
Gemma was thrown by the haunted sound in his voice. “No,” she answered honestly.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Vincenzo, I promise. After looking out the door that night, I snuck down the
back staircase when I knew a guard wouldn’t be there. No one saw me.”
“Do you swear before God?” A vein stood out in his neck.
She sensed an unfathomable depth of anxiety here. It wasn’t something he could hide. “Why have you asked me that?”
His body tensed. “Because if I thought my father had been waiting in the hall and did anything to you...”
“No one saw me.” It was her turn to shudder at the degree of his concern. “I swear, nothing happened to me, Vincenzo.”
“Keep talking to me, Gemma. There’s still something else you haven’t told me.”
She stirred restlessly. Now was her chance to reveal every single cruel thing his father had done to her and her mother. But looking into his eyes and seeing the pain, she found she couldn’t.
“Did you get questioned after my father found out I’d gone missing?” he demanded.
Give him some of the truth so he’ll be satisfied.
“He and the police commissioner interrogated everyone at the castello, one at a time. No one knew anything about your disappearance. At that point they looked elsewhere for answers.”
“Grazie a Dio.”
She heard the tremendous relief in his voice, but by the way he was staring at her, she could tell he was far from finished with her, and she started to be afraid.
“When were you let go at the castello?”
Her pulse raced. “Does it matter? It’s all in the past.”
He shook his dark head. “Did it happen after my nonno died?”
“Yes,” she said quietly, because with that question Gemma realized he really didn’t know anything that had happened. Neither did Dimi, otherwise his cousin would have told him.
His sharp intake of breath was alarming. “You’re lying to me again.”
She jumped up from the chair. “I can’t do this anymore. Thank you for letting me eat with you. Now I have to leave.”
He looked up at her. “Where are you going?”
“Back to the pensione.”
“If you leave now, you’ll never know the true reason behind my sudden disappearance and why it had to be carried out in complete secrecy.”
Stunned by what he’d just said, Gemma clung to the back of the chair. The true reason?
“On the strength of the years you and I spent together as children and teenagers who fell in love, isn’t learning the whole truth worth something to you?”
“I thought you said you left to make your own fortune and name.”
“That was a by-product of the real reason I left, but I didn’t tell you the truth in order to spare you more grief. I can see now that I’ve been wrong to do that.”
Along with everything he was saying, his confession that he’d been in love with her a long time ago was almost too much to bear. Gemma couldn’t talk, couldn’t think.
“I don’t ever remember you running out of words before, so I’m following you home.” He put some bills on the table. “We need privacy because we’re not finished talking, but we can’t do it here. People are watching.”
“You made a promise.”
“I would have kept it, but you’ve just told me another lie. If you don’t want to work at the castello then I’ll have to live with it, but I need the truth from you first. Let’s go.”
With her heart in her mouth, Gemma left the restaurant and walked to the end of the street to reach her car. She started the engine and pulled into traffic. Soon she was headed for Sopri.
Through the rearview mirror she could see the Maserati following closely behind. Adrenaline gushed through her veins. Finally she would know what had happened all those years ago. It didn’t take long to reach the pensione. Vincenzo pulled up behind her and parked his car.
Without looking at him, she went inside, leaving the door open. He followed, closing it behind him.
“Come in and sit down. Take your pick of one of the chairs or the love seat.”
* * *
Vincenzo did neither. First he looked around at the small, well-furnished flat. From the living room he could see part of the bedroom. Then he walked into the kitchen, where she was clinging to the counter.
This evening, the fear that he was losing his grip on Gemma had made him realize he had to tell her the painful truth about his disappearance if he ever hoped to have a chance of keeping her in his life. All the guilt and the shame would have to come out. He’d wanted to protect her, but it was too late for that now.
But first he needed to hear what had happened to her after he’d left. He sucked in his breath. “The truth, Gemma. All of it! How soon after I disappeared did you and your mother leave the castello?”
She was trembling. “The second your father learned you were missing, he came with the chief of police and guards to our rooms at six that morning, demanding to know where you were. I told him I knew nothing. They searched our rooms before the police chief said he believed me.
“Your father told my mother to get out and take her baggage with her—meaning me, of course. Your father’s outrage was frightening. The idea that his son, who would one day become the Duca di Lombardi, was enjoying life below the stairs with one of the cooks’ daughters put him into a frenzy.
“He vowed to make certain she never got a job anywhere else. He threw Bianca and her mother out that same morning before he left with the police to start searching the countryside for you. That’s why Mamma made me use the Bonucci name, so he couldn’t find us.”
Vincenzo’s pain bordered on fury. He fought to stay in control. “What he did was inhuman. You should never have been forced to live through such a nightmare, and all because of me. I can never hope to make this up to you.”
“It’s over, and he was a sick man.”
His jaw hardened. “More than sick. You don’t know what a frenzy is until you’ve seen him raging drunk. My uncle was the same. Dimi had to get away, too.”
She swallowed hard. “You said he lives in Milan with his mother.”
He nodded. “They left the same day as you and your mother did, while my father was out with the police hunting for me.”
“When I first met your aunt Consolata, she was in a wheelchair. I always worried about her.”
“I know you did. She always spoke of you with fondness, but she isn’t well and has lost her memory.”
“That’s so sad.”
This was the girl he’d remembered and dreamed about. She’d always had a sweetness and kindness that made her stand out from any woman he’d ever known.
“Did you ever hear how she ended up in her wheelchair?”
“Mamma told me she had a disease.”
“No, Gemma,” he ground out. “That was a story the family made up to cover the truth. My father and my uncle Alonzo were the ones with the disease.”
“What do you mean?”
“They are alcoholics. Alonzo drove Dimi’s mother home from a party when he was drunk out of his mind. She begged for someone else to drive her, but he became enraged and dragged her to the car. En route home, there was a terrible crash. The man in the other car was killed and Dimi’s mother was paralyzed from the waist down, unable to walk again. But as usual, my father had it hushed up to protect the family honor.”
Tears splashed down her cheeks.
“Just know that since my uncle has been imprisoned, Dimi and my aunt have been able to live in peace. But there’s a lot more you need to hear in order for you to understand my sudden disappearance.”
“A lot more?”
His fear for what his father might have done to her triggered other thoughts. “The night we almost made love, you thought I’d been recovering from a fall after I’d been out horseback riding.”
She nodded. “That’s what they had been gossiping about down in the kitchen. I snuck
upstairs that night to see how bad your injuries were.”
“My bruises and welts weren’t because of an accident, Gemma.”
A cry escaped her lips. She looked ill. “Your father was responsible?”
“Si. He beat me almost to a pulp.” Gemma winced. “But he did worse to my mamma, and she died because of it.”
“Oh, Vincenzo—no—” Hot tears spurted from her eyes. “Why would he do that? She was a wonderful person.”
“My parents’ marriage was a political arrangement with a lot of money and land entailed. But my grandfather Count Nistri, the one who lived in Padua, didn’t trust his new son-in-law. Even back then my father had a reputation for drinking and gambling. But he came from a family of great wealth and was a business wizard.
“To make certain his daughter, Arianna, my mother, always had security, he’d put a fortune in a Swiss bank account for her alone.”
“He sounds like a loving man and father.”
“He was, but my father resented me having any association with him. Still, he couldn’t stop me from visiting him from time to time. My grandfather had the foresight and the means to help me get away when the time came.”
“How did he do it?”
“Through a secret source, he learned my father had been badgering my mother for her money. At that point he gave her the information to access it and passports for both of us so we could escape.”
Another gasp flew out of her.
“During the last year before she died, my father started hitting her when he couldn’t get at her money. She couldn’t withstand all those beatings.” His eyes stung with tears. “Do you have any idea what I went through, hearing her cries while I was held back by the guards so I couldn’t help her?”
Gemma covered her mouth in horror.
“I was helpless. He was the acting duca. He was the law. No one questioned him or his authority. If I’d sent for the police, they wouldn’t have stopped him. Mamma needed me, but I failed her as her son.”
“Of course you didn’t!” Gemma cried. “Don’t say that! Don’t even think it!”
Return of Her Italian Duke Page 7
