“Yes, I’ll be living at the palace when we return.” For once, Angelina could answer with the truth.
“Then you’ll be able to spend more time together,” Maria said. “Rico can see you in his free time.”
“Yes. Of course.” And Angelina realized that was true. Even if they were called back to the palace soon, all was not lost. They’d still be able to see each other. Still explore their feelings. The thought helped raise her spirits.
“What about you, Lucia? Will you continue to work at the bakery in town?” Rosa asked.
“No. I left my job so we could travel,” she improvised. Maybe now she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions about the bakery.
“What will you do when you get back home?” Maria asked.
Good question.
“Bah. She will give Rico many strong babies,” Giuseppe announced. “That will keep her busy.”
“Papa, women do more than have babies now,” Maria said. “They have jobs. Careers. Look at Mama. She didn’t sit around doing nothing when she had me.”
“Your mother and I worked together,” Giuseppe said. “This villa is more than a business. It is our life.
“Maybe they’ll have a position at the palace for you,” Rosa said. Her face lit up. “I know. You could work in the kitchen with Beatrice, Rico’s mother. Surely they could use an experienced baker in the palace.”
Angelina was running out of impromptu words. Her brain was tired simply trying to keep up with the stories and the lies they had been telling. And just the thought of what Rico’s family would think when they learned the truth took away the rest of her appetite. Why had she thought she could do this?
“What do you think, Rico?” Rosa asked when Angelina didn’t respond. “Can you talk to your mother? The prince? Can’t they find a position for your wife?”
“I am well paid,” Rico said smoothly. He rested his arm along the back of Angelina’s chair and his warm hand rested comfortably on her shoulder. Just his touch relaxed her. “Lucia doesn’t have to rush into anything. She can take her time deciding what she wants to do when we get back home.”
“Of course,” Rosa said. “We are family. I am only trying to help.”
“I know. And we thank you for your concern.” Rico turned to Angelina with a smile. “What would you like to do today, amore?”
She had to get away from this house and the people with the prying questions and the loving intentions. “Perhaps I can find some gifts to take back home.”
Rico groaned, even though the sexy smile remained on his handsome face. “More shopping?”
She rolled her eyes. “We went in one shop yesterday. One shop.” Angelina turned to Rosa. “Your friend, Gina, was very generous.”
“Gina is like family,” Rosa said. “We have been friends since we were little girls racing around the olive trees together.”
Angelina had no friends left from when she was a little girl. The few daughters of palace staff she used to play with had moved away to go to university or to find careers or to marry. She had friends now whom she met in school, but she couldn’t imagine any of them being like family.
“It’s supposed to rain this afternoon,” Giuseppe warned. “Keep an eye on the sky.”
“We will, Tio.”
As they rose from the table, Rosa cleared her throat. “I know you have your own plans for your time here in Tuscora and they don’t include meddling family, but I would like to invite you to eat dinner with us tonight if that would be possible.”
“Of course.” Rico kissed her cheek. “And you don’t meddle.”
“Much,” Maria added with a laugh.
“We’ll look forward to it,” Angelina added, giving Rosa a hug. After they left the villa, she said, “We need to find a gift for your family here to show our appreciation.”
“What kind of gift?” he asked as they crossed the courtyard. Two older women who were staying in one of the second floor apartments sat at a table in the corner and they waved as Rico and Angelina walked by.
“I have no idea, but I’m sure something will come to us.”
Rico took her hand as they crossed the street. Angelina liked the feel of her hand enveloped in his. That shivery feeling ran along her skin again. Things between them had been left up in the air after last night. Curled up in that empty bed last night, she’d decided pushing it was not the way to go. If things were going to happen between them, they should happen naturally, not because she tried to force the issue.
But she would hate to leave this place without making love with Rico.
They wandered in and out of the shops, sharing greetings with all the locals who wished them well. They picked up a few mementos to bring back home for friends and family. But they didn’t find anything to give to Rosa and Giuseppe.
“I want to say we’ll have plenty of time to find the right gift, but we really don’t know, do we?” Angelina said as they left the last shop empty handed.
They were almost knocked down by a thin young woman in jeans and sandals striding in quick steps down the sidewalk, her pretty face darkened by an angry expression. “Sorry,” she tossed to them over her shoulder.
“No, we don’t know,” Rico answered in reply to Angelina’s question. “Although it doesn’t sound as if the team is any closer to discovering who was behind the kidnapping attempt.”
“Sweetheart!” A man’s voice rang out behind them. “Wait!”
Rico pulled Angelina out of the way as a young man barreled down the sidewalk, apparently trying to catch up with the woman. She picked up her pace.
“Go away!” she cried.
“Wait! I just want to talk to you!”
“No!”
“Come on. I just want to talk.”
They rounded the corner and Angelina couldn’t hear them any longer, but she was frozen in place as the words echoed through her mind. She closed her eyes so she could concentrate on the words.
“We need the princess.”
“He wants to talk to her.”
“Give us the princess.”
“He just wants to talk.”
“Are you all right?” Rico asked.
“They said he wanted to talk to me,” Angelina murmured. Her heart pounded as she heard again the shots that rang out after the shouting, the grunts of pain, the squeal of tires in the darkness.
“What? Who?” Rico cupped her face and she finally forced her eyes open and came back to the sidewalk in Tuscora. Rico’s concerned expression touched her. “Amore?”
“Sorry. I just remembered what the men were shouting when they stopped our car that night.”
Rico put his arm around her and turned her into a small alleyway between buildings. “Tell me.”
“They said he wanted to talk to me.”
“Who said this?” he asked slowly. “Who wanted to talk to you?”
“I don’t know. Two men shouting. They just said ‘he’. I don’t know who.” Angelina dropped her head back against the stone wall. “Sorry. I know it’s no help, but that’s what they said before they started shooting. This doesn’t make sense.” She pushed away from the wall and began to pace the narrow space. “There are plenty of ways to communicate with me. Why would someone stop my car with hired gunmen if he only wanted to talk to me?”
Rico smoothed her hair back from her face and spoke in that calm, unruffled way that sometimes irritated her, but right now she appreciated it more than she imagined. “Just because these men said that doesn’t mean it is true. They could have used that excuse just to get you in the vehicle.”
“Oh. Yes. I see. You’re right, of course.”
They stood in the shadows, the sun unable to shine through the narrow slit between the tall buildings. “Are you all right?” Rico asked again. “Do you want to go back to our rooms?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.” Somehow she was backed up against the wall, Rico only a heartbeat away. “I’m fine until suddenly I remember why I’m here. Why we’re h
ere. Why we’re lying to people. Then I get scared. I mean, I know I shouldn’t. You’re here with me and I trust you more than anyone, but I can’t help it.”
“It’s normal to be scared.” He swept his thumb lightly along her bottom lip. “That is nothing to be ashamed of.” His lips followed the path of his thumb. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
Her lips tingled and her tongue darted out to wet them. “I know.”
His eyes dropped to her mouth, then he blinked and looked away. “Let’s get a light lunch. Tia and Tio are known for their delicious and abundant meals, so we don’t want to eat too much.”
“Okay.”
They left the alley and Angelina saw that it wasn’t just the height of the buildings that had blocked the sun. Gray clouds were rolling in, but they didn’t yet have the heavy, dark look they’d likely take on in the next few hours. The wind was picking up too. Giuseppe was obviously right about the rain.
“Do I hear music?” she asked as she picked up the faint strains of a tune drifting down the street.
“I think it’s coming from over there.” Rico pointed to a restaurant on the corner, a welcome glow coming from the wide, multi-paned window. “Want to try it out?”
“Yes.”
Rico took Angelina’s hand and they crossed the street toward the foot-tapping music and the mouth-watering aroma of sauce. A short, thin man with a clean, white apron wrapped around his waist rushed over to them when they walked in the door.
“Welcome. Welcome,” he said. “Oh, I am so honored for you to stop into my little ristorante. I have a table here for you, right by the window.” He led them to a small alcove, just big enough for a table for two in front of the large, multi-paned window.
“Thank you,” Angelina said and glanced at Rico with a quirk of her brow. “This is a lovely place,” she added.
When they reached the table, Rico said, “Thank you, but I admit to not understanding the great honor.”
“Oh, well, you are Rosa and Giuseppe’s nephew. You work at the palace. You have come to our little town to celebrate your marriage. Everybody knows that. This is a small town and news travels to everyone.” He bowed with a flourish. “There are many places to choose to eat in Tuscora and for you to choose to dine here is wonderful indeed.”
“Your musicians are very talented,” Angelina said as the owner held out a chair for her. The trio was set up in the far corner and were playing a familiar folk ballad.
“And our chef is even more talented.” He handed them each a menu and bowed. “I am Francesco. While you peruse your choices, I would like to offer you each a complementary glass of wine in honor of your marriage. Our house red is full-bodied and flows like romance over the tongue.” He paused and looked at Rico.
“Thank you,” Rico said when he realized Francesco was waiting for his response. “That sounds perfect.”
“Very good. I will be right back with your wine and to take your order.”
After Francesco left, Angelina looked over to Rico “I can’t wait to taste a wine that flows over my tongue like romance.” They shared a smile.
“I think our host is quite enamored of you.”
Angelina waved away that comment. “Everyone in Tuscora is so welcoming. Your aunt and uncle must have a strong presence in this community for all the people to celebrate our union so heartily.”
Rico chuckled and picked up a menu.
Angelina looked at the handsome man beside her instead of the menu. If she were home right now, she would not be sitting in a restaurant with Rico. They never would have had the chance to get this close. Although they lived in the same place, their lives were completely separate. As Princess Angelina, the world had certain expectations for her. And that world included her friends and family. And Rico.
She would have had to have a compelling reason to even speak to him in the palace. He wouldn’t have even approached her at home unless something drastic happened, like someone trying to kidnap her. She never would have had the opportunity to simply reach out and touch him. Like…
This. Angelina brushed her fingers lightly over Rico’s wrist. She’d never noticed how masculine his wrists were. The strong bones were pronounced beneath his tanned skin. His skin was warm with a sprinkling of dark hair.
Rico dropped the menu and turned his dark gaze on her. “Amore?”
She shrugged and began to pull her hand away, but he caught it and laced their fingers together. She wanted to sigh.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.” How could she explain that she had enjoyed the last couple days here in Tuscora more than she had the last couple years at home? That she wished for a life where she could be free to do whatever she wanted to, not only what was expected of her.
“There is something. I can see it in your face. What’s wrong?” Did he know her so well already?
“I don’t like to complain. I can’t complain, really, can I?”
“About what?”
Just then Francesco came back with two glasses filled with a deep burgundy wine. Angelina was glad for the interruption and took a healthy sip. She hadn’t even looked at the menu so she ordered whatever Rico did and sat back and faced the musicians. She shouldn’t have said anything. She would sound petty and selfish. If she were lucky, Rico would forget all about it.
But of course, he didn’t. As soon as Francesco left the table, Rico turned to her. “Talk to me.”
“Most people would say I have a charmed life,” she said softly. There were other diners in the restaurant, but the small alcove offered them a bit of privacy. Still, she didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing their conversation. “I know my life is better than many. I have a loving family. I have no worries about food to eat or a roof over my head. I have so much when some have so little.”
“But?”
“But they also have what I can never have.”
He brushed a wayward lock of hair back from her face and his fingertips skimmed over her cheek. “What is that, amore?”
“Freedom. Freedom to be myself.” She leaned in close, dropped her voice to a whisper. “To be Angelina, whoever that is. Not the princess. Not the member of a royal family, scrutinized every moment.” She drove her fingers through her hair. “Every action of mine reflects on my family. On the entire country. Here in Tuscora, I’ve gotten a glimpse of what it might be like to have that freedom.”
Rico took her hand again, leaned in for a soft kiss. “In our rooms last night, I met the woman. Not the princess. Remember?”
Her face grew warm but she nodded.
He stroked the back of her hand with one long finger. “You are a strong, smart woman. You can do whatever you want to do.”
“You make it sound so easy.” It wouldn’t be easy. She could conceivably build a life outside the palace walls, but she had no idea where she’d go or what she’d do.
“You could do it. If you wanted it badly enough.”
“I don’t even know what I want,” she cried. Then lowered her voice again. “That’s the problem. When Maria asked what I was going to with the rest of my life, I realized I don’t know.”
“You’re young. You have time to decide who you are.”
“I am a princess,” she whispered, angry now at the conversation. At the futile wish for something else. “I know who I am. I know I should be grateful. I just always thought there should be…” She trailed off. She didn’t even know what word to use.
“More?” he asked softly.
She froze, a small gasp catching her breath. “Yes.”
“More for Angelina? More for the woman you are?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, amore. Believe me. I have felt that way too.”
When he was guarding Prince Vittorio, Rico could stand still for hours, not moving more than his eyes sweeping over a room. He could sit for long periods of time in the soft seat in the back of a limousine or on a hard chair in the back of an office while one of the prince’s meetings we
nt on for hours. But now Rico could not sit still a moment longer. He didn’t understand the restlessness running through him, but there was only one thing he could think to do.
He squeezed Angelina’s hand and jumped to his feet. “Can I have this dance?”
She frowned slightly and glanced over to the corner where the musicians were playing. “There’s not really a dance floor.”
“Do you think anyone will stop us if we want to dance?”
“No.” She smiled and if nothing else, Rico could be happy to have given her something to smile about. “Yes, I would love to dance.”
Some man in ancient days must have come up with the idea of dancing in order to have an acceptable way to hold a woman in his arms in public. When Angelina pressed her soft body against him and wrapped her arms around his neck, Rico thought he must have done something right sometime in his life, since he’d obviously died and gone to heaven. Her body fit against his as if they had been made for each other. And he didn’t want to let her go.
Even though he knew he should release her—would eventually have to release her—for the length of a single dance Rico decided he would be selfish. Soon he would no longer be able to touch the princess with such familiarity. Soon he would never be able to hold her in his arms again.
So for the moment he was going to enjoy it.
They danced in silence for a few moments as Angelina’s scent surrounded him. Her body heated him. Tempted him. And when the musicians slid almost seamlessly from one slow ballad to another, he didn’t let himself feel guilty for keeping her in his arms for another song.
“I feel selfish for wanting more,” she murmured, her breath warm on his neck.
Something else he could relate to. “Don’t feel guilty. You deserve happiness, the same as anyone else.”
“What makes you happy, Rico?”
“Right now? Holding you in my arms.” Once the words were out there was no way to take them back, even if he’d wanted to.
“Seriously,” she said, even though her eyes sparkled at his words. “Do you like living a life swallowed up by the royal family? I know how many hours you work. This is probably the first vacation you’ve had since you took the job.”
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