by Holly Rayner
Each time someone stopped them, Raffaele introduced Maggie as one of New Orleans’ best chefs. She felt like a bit of a curiosity since it seemed that all of these people knew each other, but Raffaele treated her as if she belonged. It was lovely, and Maggie was having fun well before they reached the courtyard.
The courtyard was filled with tables of fruit, cheese, and pastries, while black-and-white clad servers moved quietly around the area with trays of appetizers. Maggie took a small puff pastry from one tray, and Raffaele watched her while she took a bite. She nodded immediately in approval and Raffaele smiled.
“I would have felt terrible if I’d brought you to a party with bad food.”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t think a party in a house like this could ever serve bad food.”
He laughed. “You’d be surprised.”
“What’s the worst food you’ve ever had at a party?” Maggie asked, curious.
Raffaele thought for a moment.
“About two years ago, I attended an after-party for a big movie premiere. The studio hosted it, and they must have been worried that the movie wasn’t going to make any money because the food was terrible. It tasted like they’d simply picked up a bunch of frozen appetizers and put them on trays.”
“Tell me they at least thawed them out first.”
Raffaele laughed. “I think a few of them might not have been.”
A tuxedo-clad man with an elaborate gold mask stopped Raffaele with a hand on his arm. “Raffaele, my boy. I didn’t know you were going to be here.”
Raffaele shook the other man’s hand. “You know me, Marcus. Wouldn’t miss an opportunity for a grand party.”
“Of course. And who is your lovely date?” He turned to Maggie.
Maggie didn’t wait for Raffaele to introduce her this time, holding her hand out for the other man to shake.
“Maggie Bechet.” She added cheekily, “Of the New Orleans Bechets.”
She could see Raffaele biting his lip, trying not to laugh.
“Ms. Bechet is the head chef at BienVille. Are your parents in town?”
Marcus seemed surprised at the non-sequitur.
“They are, as a matter of fact.”
Raffaele nodded once firmly. “Good. Impress them by taking them to BienVille. You can show them you’ve grown out of those fast food restaurants you love so much.”
Marcus laughed. “They’d love that.” He turned to Maggie. “Please tell me you at least have a hamburger on your menu?”
Maggie shook her head. “But, for you, I’ll prepare something special.”
“Well, then, how can I resist a promise like that? Consider it done.” Marcus shook her hand again. “Chef Maggie Bechet, it was a pleasure.”
As he moved away, Maggie asked Raffaele softly, “Who was that?”
Raffaele answered, “A cousin. I think.”
Maggie laughed. “You don’t know?”
Raffaele shrugged. “Royal family trees can get pretty tangled. He’s a second cousin three times removed, or something like that. We spent a lot of time together as kids, but don’t get to see much of each other as adults.”
Before they walked three more steps they were stopped again when a stunning woman with flame-red hair grasped Raffaele’s arm.
“Raffaele, it’s so good to see you.”
Raffaele kissed both her cheeks. “And you. Let me introduce you to Maggie Bechet, New Orleans’ premier chef. Maggie, this is Alexa Rondeau.”
Alexa shook Maggie’s hand. “What’s the name of your restaurant?”
“BienVille.”
Alexa nodded. “I’ve heard good things. My husband is something of a foodie—I’ll have to take him there soon.”
Maggie said sincerely, “We’d be happy to have you dine with us. Please let me know when you’re coming in; I’d love to stop by your table and say hello.”
As they moved away, Raffaele leaned towards her again. Maggie was so enthralled at the sensation of having his voice in her ear that she almost missed what he was saying.
“After tonight, you’re going to be the go-to place for every celebrity in New Orleans.”
Maggie leaned into his arm just a little.
“So, I really do get to count tonight as work. I just need to put it under our marketing budget.” She grinned and added, “I may have to pay you a commission for all the new business you’re sending my way.”
Raffaele laughed. “Just promise me that I get my favorite table whenever I’m in town.”
“Done.”
Maggie found herself hoping that the Prince made it back to New Orleans frequently. She’d keep his booth open all the time if it meant she might have the chance to see him again.
“You know, I feel like a princess in a fairy tale,” Maggie said softly and then grinned at Raffaele. “Though I’m pretty sure that makes you my fairy godmother instead of Prince Charming.”
Raffaele threw his head back and laughed.
“I’ll let you in on a little secret: we keep a fairy godmother on staff. You know, just in case.” He stood and held out a hand. “So, that definitely makes me Prince Charming. However, since this is a ball, I can’t be your Prince Charming unless you dance with me.”
Maggie shook her head. “Oh, no. I can’t dance.”
Raffaele gave her a questioning look.
“No, really,” she added. “I actually took ballroom dance in high school as my sports elective, and the one thing I learned is that I’ve got two left feet.”
“So, you know how to dance?”
“Technically, yes. But trust me, knowledge doesn’t translate into ability.”
Raffaele leaned down and took her hand. “Have I let you down yet?”
Maggie sighed and shook her head.
“I promise I won’t let you fall.”
Maggie decided there was no way she could resist a statement like that, so she took Raffaele’s hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor. The orchestra stuck up a waltz, and Raffaele whirled her around the ballroom. It was the first time she’d danced at an honest-to-goodness ball, and she had to admit, it was fun.
In the Prince’s arms, Maggie felt light on her feet. True to his word, Raffaele didn’t let her fall. Maggie smiled up at him, and when Raffaele smiled back, she thought this might be the most perfect moment she’d ever experienced.
She felt she could dance forever like this, so when the song ended and another began, Maggie stayed right where she was.
Chapter 4
Raffaele
Raffaele studied the face of the beautiful woman he held in his arms. He was used to dancing with all types of beautiful women, but dancing with Maggie was something special. She’d been so nervous when he led her onto the dance floor, but by their second waltz, she was smiling joyfully.
Raffaele raised a questioning eyebrow at her and Maggie laughed.
“Okay, yes, I am having fun. Dancing is fun.”
He grinned at her. They danced through another song, but when the orchestra started the next one, Raffaele noticed that Maggie seemed to be tiring.
“How about we rest for a few minutes?”
“I could go for a break,” she said. “My feet suddenly remembered that I’ve been on them for most of the day.”
Raffaele steered her to a quiet table in the corner.
“Here.” He pulled out a chair for her.
Maggie gratefully sat down. “Thank you.”
As he sat down across from her, Raffaele asked, “Would you like something to drink?”
“Yes, please. And I’d love to get something else to eat.” She started to stand up again, but Raffaele waved her back into the chair.
“Ah, that’s an easy request.” He lifted his hand in the direction of one of the servers walking through the crowd, and the man immediately moved to their table.
“May I help you with something, sir?”
“Yes. We’d like to taste all the appetizers. I wonder if you could bring us two of each?
Thank you.”
Maggie watched him with amusement as the server went to fulfill Raffaele’s request. “You know, we could have gotten the food ourselves.”
Raffaele pointed over his shoulder. “I’m going to get drinks for us.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I could help with that, too.”
Raffaele shook his head. “Your job is to let someone else wait on you for a change.” He stood and looked in the direction of bar. “Any special requests?” he asked.
Maggie said, “I’m fine with whatever looks good.”
Raffaele looked over his shoulder as he reached the bar, noticing that Maggie was watching him with a smile on her face. He looked back as the bartender greeted him and came up with an idea.
He leaned one elbow on the bar. “I would like a little bit of everything,” Raffaele told the bartender. “Small glasses are fine; we’d just like to taste it all.”
Raffaele thought the bartender looked half amused and half worried, but it couldn’t have been the oddest request the bartender had ever received, since the man quickly went to work.
He walked back to the table where Maggie was waiting, followed by the bartender carrying a large tray with an assortment of glasses. Maggie’s eyes widened and she shook her head.
“What are we going to do with all that?” she asked, and Raffaele could tell she was definitely amused.
Raffaele grinned. “We’re going to try everything.” He thanked the bartender as the man set the tray down on the small table next to the one they sat at.
Maggie added a “thank you” as the bartender walked back to his station.
“Where do we start?” she asked.
Raffaele handed her a glass and took one of his own. He raised the small glass in a salute and she mirrored his motion. Just then, the server arrived with two trays filled with food.
He put one of the trays on the small table with the drinks and the other tray in front of them, saying, “I suggest starting with the warm items first.”
Maggie and Raffaele both thanked him, and Raffaele pointed at one of the tiny pastries. “Try that one.”
Maggie laughed and did as he said. After she took a bite, she tilted her head and shrugged. “Good, but not as good as that first pastry.”
Raffaele searched on the trays and found the first pastry Maggie had tried before they danced. He took a bite of it, then of the second one. Maggie laughed at him as he nibbled and considered. He found that he liked that sound, and he wanted to make her laugh again.
In his best cooking show judge voice, Raffaele said, “I like that the first appetizer made use of seasonal ingredients. However, the second one played it too safe. I want to be wowed by these creations.”
He could tell Maggie got what he was doing, and warmed to the sound of her laughing again. Raffaele handed her another appetizer and waited for her to take a bite before he picked up the other one.
Maggie shook her head. “I’m getting a little bit too much crunchiness, though the flavor is nice.”
Raffaele took a bite. “I agree. A different ingredient would have made a better choice for this dish.”
Maggie pressed her lips together, shaking with giggles. “You do that just a little too well.”
Raffaele grinned at her. “I should offer to be a celebrity judge on one of those cooking shows.”
“I would love to see that. You’d be good at it.”
Maggie handed him another appetizer, something dusted with gold and purple sprinkles. “Here. Try this one.”
Raffaele did, and then turned it around and over, looking closely.
“I appreciate that the chef embraced the theme, but I think deconstruction might show the ingredients better.”
Maggie tried her appetizer and made a little face. “I think the chef might have skipped this one altogether, though I agree it is on point for theme.”
She put the rest of it back on her plate.
They worked their way through the warm appetizers, tasting them and then tasting the drinks. With every bite and every sip, they got more into the spirit of the game. Raffaele relished the banter; Maggie was smart and sharp. She held her own with him. Raffaele was so used to women who were either intimidated by or infatuated with his royal status. But Maggie acted like she’d forgotten his title and was just having fun.
Raffaele picked up the tray with the cold dishes and held it out so Maggie could take one. He took the other and the each took a bite at the same time. They looked at each other and shook their heads at the same time.
“Just…no,” Maggie said, going for the glass of wine to wash down the taste.
“Definitely. There are no words.” Raffaele gulped his own glass of wine. “I’m not sure tasting anything after that is a good idea.”
Maggie straightened up. “We can do this. “It’s our responsibility—no, it’s our privilege—to try all this food,” she said in a rousing voice that would have inspired armies. “We must, for the good of this party, finish our plates!” she finished, lifting her glass of wine.
Raffaele stared at her for a moment, impressed, then Maggie shrugged and pointed at one of the appetizers, saying, “Plus, I’ve really been wanting to try that one.”
Raffaele threw his head back and laughed. “Then, for the good of the party, you shall.” He passed her the tray and Maggie took it.
She picked up the one she’d been eyeing and took a bite, then nodded enthusiastically. “I really like that you can taste all the different flavors.”
Raffaele picked up the other one of the pair and tried it. He chewed slowly, tilting his head in consideration. “I disagree. It’s not bad, but the flavors are fighting each other.”
Maggie shook her head. “It’s a great combination, and everything is balanced.”
Raffaele laughed. “You’re already planning on how you can do this better and put it on your menu, aren’t you?”
Maggie leaned into him as she laughed in agreement, acknowledging his point. Raffaele liked her being close to him. Being with Maggie was easy; it felt natural.
He found himself saying, “You know, this is the most fun I’ve ever had on a date.”
Maggie giggled. “Oh, so you don’t get out much?”
Raffaele rolled his eyes at her self-deprecation.
“I do just fine, thank you. But I don’t get to date world-class chefs. Or women who aren’t blinded by the whole royalty thing. Tonight has simply been fun.”
Maggie nodded. “Thank you.” And then she raised an eyebrow. “I’m still not feeling sorry for your dating life.”
That got a surprised laugh from Raffaele. “Nor should you.”
Maggie sat back and Raffaele thought she looked happy. He was surprised at how much the sight of her being happy pleased him. A lock of her hair fell over her mask and he wanted to brush it back just so he could touch her.
Raffaele drank from his glass while he considered the thoughts tumbling through his head. Gorgeous woman, amazing chef, fun date—he’d never felt this kind of connection with anyone else before. Even the moment of silence that stretched between them now was comfortable and tinged with anticipation rather than awkwardness.
And he was aware that part of what he was feeling was pure physical attraction. It wasn’t just that Maggie was beautiful. It was her smile, the way her eyes crinkled up when she laughed, and the feel of holding her while they danced. He could feel the sparks between them when they touched, and he wanted more of that.
He wanted to see her again.
Raffaele leaned forward abruptly. “I’m turning thirty in a month,” he said.
Maggie looked a little surprised at this declaration but only responded, “Happy early birthday.”
Raffaele shook his head. “My family is throwing a huge party for our relatives and friends. Dinner and dancing for 300 people at the palace. My mother is set on turning it into the event of the season. Would you be available to cook for the party?”
He held his breath while she thought abo
ut it, and when she nodded, he was thrilled.
“Yes, I’d love to,” Maggie said. “It sounds like an amazing opportunity.”
Raffaele wanted her to understand that she was more than just a hired chef.
“If you can, please stay a few days after the party. I’d love to show you around.” He smiled winningly. “I’ll feed you the best my country has to offer. You can count it as a research and inspiration if you need an excuse to take a vacation.”
“Raffaele, you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. I’ve never met anyone I could talk to like you, about food or anything else. We have more than enough room at the palace, and Spiaggi is a beautiful place. It would be my pleasure to introduce you to my country.”
Maggie laughed. “If you’re sure, then I’m sold. I can’t wait.”
Raffaele agreed; he couldn’t wait to show Maggie his home. He clapped his hands together. “Excellent! I’ll text you details tomorrow morning.”
Maggie wrinkled her nose up in a way that Raffaele found adorable. “Speaking of tomorrow morning, and as much as I hate to bring this night to a close, I have to be up early to get things ready at the restaurant. I should go.”
Raffaele nodded. “Of course. Let me have the driver bring the car around and I’ll take you home.”
Maggie shook her head and smiled. “That’s sweet, but please don’t leave on my account. You should enjoy the rest of the party.”
Raffaele studied her. He could tell that she was tired, and if he went with her, she’d feel obligated to be entertaining and talkative.
He wanted her to be at ease, so he agreed, but added firmly, “I’ll stay, but my driver will take you home.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
Raffaele texted the driver asking him to bring the car around, and watched as Maggie wrote her phone number on a napkin.
She handed the napkin to him and said, “You’ve got the number to the restaurant, but here’s my personal cell.”
Raffaele nodded. “We’ll talk more about the party soon.” He stood and offered her his arm. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again, Maggie.”