The Billionaires' Club: Return of Her Italian Duke (The Billionaire’s Club) / Bound to Her Greek Billionaire (The Billionaire’s Club) / Whisked Away by Her Sicilian Boss (The Billionaire’s Club)
“No. He lives in Milan with Zia Consolata.”
Her face paled, and a hand went to her throat. A nerve throbbed at the base where he’d kissed her many times.
“I’ve heard all I need to hear.”
In the next breath, she moved toward the door. Before he could comprehend, she flung it open and raced down the hall to the lobby. He’d never seen her in high heels before. She moved fast on those long gorgeous legs of hers.
Vincenzo started after her, noticing her hair swish and shimmer in the sunshine with every movement. He didn’t catch up until she’d reached her car. Too many questions about her life were battering him at once. He wanted to make up to her for all the pain he’d put her through by disappearing without a word. Vincenzo couldn’t let her get away from him. Not now.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
She ignored him and opened the car door. He was aware of a lemon scent coming from her that assailed his senses. Right this minute her fragrance and femininity wrapped around him like they had done years ago, and his desire for her was palpable.
Once seated, she slammed the car door. Through the open window he saw her put the key in the ignition.
“We have to talk, Gemma!”
Her cheeks had turned scarlet with anger. “That’s how I felt for days, weeks, months, even years until the need was burned out of me.”
“You don’t mean that,” he ground out.
“Let me explain it this way. Remember our discussion about one of the films of the Count of Monte Cristo? If you don’t, I do. Mercedes had waited years for Edmond Dantes, the man she loved. But when he suddenly appeared years later, he’d changed beyond recognition and she said goodbye to him.
“I related totally to her feelings then and now. I celebrate your return to life and all the billions of dollars you’ve made in New York, Vincenzo Gagliardi. I wish you well. Please tell the business manager that I’ve changed my mind and won’t be taking the job after all. Arrivederci, signor.”
* * *
Wild with pain, Gemma backed away and flew down the road leading to the town below. Her eyes stung. By the time she reached the pensione, she realized she’d lashed out for all the years she’d been crushed by his silence.
And for his being so damned gorgeous it hurt to look at him. In ten years he’d grown into a stunning man. Standing six foot three with hard muscles and hair black as midnight, he was the personification of male beauty in her eyes.
She could hardly breathe when he’d walked into Signor Manolis’s office. No wonder she hadn’t been able to go on seeing Paolo. The memory of Vincenzo had always stood in the way. He was the reason she hadn’t been able to find happiness with another man.
When they’d been together for the last time, he’d imprinted himself on her. She’d read about such things in books of fiction, but the love she’d felt for him had been real and life changing.
To think she’d suffered ten years before learning that he’d left Italy with the sole desire to earn money! Being the duca apparent wasn’t enough. All the time they’d been growing up, he’d never once shown signs of greed in his nature. But it turned out he was just like his father!
The moment he’d reached legal age, he’d disappeared like a rabbit down a hole to add more assets to the massive family fortune. Apparently if you were a Gagliardi with a title, you could never have enough! She couldn’t credit it. And no one had known where he’d gone except Dimi.
Because of Gemma’s involvement with the duca’s son, her mother had paid a huge price the night he’d taken off without telling his father. Shame on her for believing in something that had been a piece of fiction in her mind and heart. How many times had her mother tried to pound it in her head that she and Vincenzo would always be worlds apart?
She could hear her mother’s voice. She and Vincenzo hadn’t just been two ordinary teenagers indulging in a romantic fantasy. She was from the lower class, while he was an aristocrat who would one day become the Duca di Lombardi.
Any woman he married would have to be a princess, like his aunt and his mother. Day in and day out, her mother had cautioned her against her attachment to Vincenzo, but Gemma hadn’t listened, so sure she was of his love.
After she reached the pensione, her troubled cry resounded in the car’s interior. If she hadn’t applied for the position at the castello, they would never have seen each other again in this lifetime.
You simply can’t let what he’s done destroy your life.
For a few minutes she struggled for composure so the padrona di casa wouldn’t know anything was wrong. Then Gemma went inside to gather her things before driving back to Florence. Her cousin wouldn’t have to know what had gone on. Gemma could simply tell her she was still looking for a position but that it would take some time.
While she packed her toiletries in the bathroom, there was a knock on the door. Gemma told the padrona to come in.
“Scusi, signorina.” She shut the door. “There’s a gentleman outside from the castello wishing to speak to you in private.”
Her heart knocked against her chest, but she kept packing and tried to feign nonchalance. “Who is it?”
“Signorina—” She ran over to her with excitement. “I would never have believed it, but it’s the dashing young Duca di Lombardi himself, all grown up.”
She trembled. “Surely you’re mistaken.” What else could she say?
“No, years ago the police looked for him and circulated pictures.” Gemma remembered those policemen. “I would know him anywhere. He has the Gagliardi eyes.”
She moaned. Those silvery eyes were legendary. Had he decided to use his title with the padrona to get what he wanted? Gemma hadn’t thought Vincenzo would go so far as to follow her here, but like his father, he did whatever he wanted. Well, he couldn’t force her to work at the restaurant!
Now that Gemma had shown up on his radar, it seemed he’d decided it was all right to fulfill the role destined for him from birth. Though she wanted to ask the padrona to tell Vincenzo she wasn’t available, she couldn’t do that. The older woman wasn’t a servant, and Gemma didn’t want her involved.
“Thank you for telling me. I’m leaving now and going back to Florence. I’ve left your money on the table. You’ve been very kind.”
Gemma picked up her bag and walked outside to find Vincenzo lounging against the front of her car with his strong arms folded. The padrona smiled at him one last time before disappearing back through the doors.
Gemma put her bag in the rear seat. “Why did you follow me? I thought I made it clear that I can’t accept the position of pastry chef. You’re crazy if you’re trying to expunge your guilt this way. Perhaps not guilt, exactly... A duca doesn’t suffer that emotion like normal people, right? Yet he’s known to give payment to someone like the cook’s daughter for past services rendered. However, I can assure you that it’s wasted on me.”
A little nerve throbbed at the side of his compelling mouth, a mouth she’d kissed over and over before he’d told her she had to leave. “Is that what I’m doing?” he fired in a wintry voice.
“Yes! I’m quite sure you didn’t offer the new executive chef a room at the castello, but Signor Manolis was told to offer me one.”
The brief silence on his part upset her even more, because he didn’t deny it.
“I knew it! The truth is, I don’t deserve this job. The offer was too good to be true. I sensed there had to be a catch somewhere. I just didn’t realize you had everything to do with it.”
“Would it be so terrible of me to want to do something for you after the way I left without telling you? Let me make this up to you.”
“I don’t want anything from you, Vincenzo.”
“If you’re worried about the bedroom at the castello, I promise it won’t be the back room behind the kitchen where you and your mother once lived.”
“It’s a moot point, but I wouldn’t mind if it were.”
“Nevertheless, all of that area was renovated along with the kitchen. The offer for you to stay at the castello will always stand.”
“Why aren’t you listening to me? I was shattered that you didn’t say goodbye, that you didn’t even let me know you were alive, but as for the rest, you owe me nothing!”
“That’s not true.”
“Think back to that night! Because you were in too much physical pain from that terrible fall from your horse, we didn’t make love, even if we came close. Let’s not forget I was as eager as you. Those moments happen to teenagers all the time! I had the hots for you, as they say in the US.”
He grimaced. “Where did you learn that expression?”
“I picked up some American slang from the students at culinary school. So forget trying to fix what can’t be fixed. I don’t want to be compensated with a position of this magnitude or the extra perks that come with it. I understand there are two other applicants you can choose from.”
“Three, but that’s not the issue here.”
She hadn’t known that. “Then there’s no problem.”
Lines darkened his striking features. “You’re wrong, Gemma. As for your expertise as a chef, the desserts made by you overwhelmed the committee. You have to know the decision to hire you was unanimous.”
“I’ll never really know, will I?”
His chest rose and fell visibly. “What do I have to do to convince you? Both Takis and Cesare are connoisseurs of fine food and wine. They recognize what will bring heads of state, kings, princes and world celebrities to the hotel over and over again. They chose you.”
“Does it matter? I have interviews with two restaurateurs in Barcelona and London. If one of them hires me, I’ll know I got the job for my cooking ability, nothing else.”
She climbed behind the wheel. At least he didn’t try to stop her.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Florence.”
“To the Bonucci Bakery? I saw the address on your application.”
“Yes.”
He stood there with his legs slightly apart, piercing her with those fabulous eyes. “You’ll be driving in heavy traffic.”
Since when had that become a concern? For the last ten years he hadn’t known if she were dead or alive. He’d been flying from New York to Milan for the last six months on business. Her temper flared again.
“Vincenzo—I haven’t been a teenager for years and I love to drive.” She started the engine.
He moved closer. “Before you leave, tell me about your mother. How is she?”
Her bitter laugh shook him to the core. “She’s alive and well, not that you’d care or be the least bit interested. Now I really have to go.”
To her profound relief, he stepped back so she could drive away. Through the rearview mirror she saw his incredibly male physique standing there until she rounded the next corner.
The irony of running away from him after looking for him all these years wasn’t lost on her. She drove back to Florence feeling as if she’d jumped off a precipice into the void.
CHAPTER FOUR
VINCENZO REACHED FOR his phone and left a message for the guys to say that he wouldn’t be back at the castello until late. There were other calls from his assistant and his attorney in New York on his voice mail. None of them sounded urgent. He would deal with them later. But Annette’s latest message demanded his attention. Earlier that morning he’d promised to call her back.
After putting on his sunglasses, he climbed in his Maserati and followed Gemma to Florence. The satellite navigation would lead him to the Bonucci Bakery. There was no way he would let her turn things around and disappear on him. He needed the chance to talk to her. The depth of her pain had caused him to reel. This was worse than anything he’d imagined if he’d ever seen her again.
While he was en route, he phoned Annette.
“Is it possible you’ve found some time for me?” she teased, but he heard her underlying impatience and didn’t blame her.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve had business that has taken priority.”
“Vince, you seem different. What’s wrong?”
There was no way to explain to her what was going on inside him right now. But Annette deserved to hear how he felt even if it was going to hurt her. “You’ve asked me before if there was a special woman in my life. I’ve told you no and would never lie to you about that. But in my youth I fell in love with an Italian girl I haven’t seen or heard from in ten years. Today I met up with her by accident.”
He was still trying to recover.
After an ominous quiet, she said, “So what are you saying? That after all this time you find you’re still in love and don’t want me to come for the opening?”
He took a deep breath. “I’m saying that a big portion of my past caught up with me today. To be frank, I’m reeling.” It wouldn’t have been fair to lie to her.
“I sensed there was someone else all this time. She must have a powerful hold on you for those feelings to have lasted over a decade.”
“Annette, I can’t honestly tell you where this is headed.”
What he did know was that seeing Gemma again had stirred up longings in him more intense than he could ever have imagined. To find out that Gemma wasn’t married yet was a miracle. But her anger had been so intense, he needed to talk to her about it.
“Neither can I,” Annette murmured. “Under the circumstances, I don’t intend to wait for calls from you that might not come.”
“I haven’t meant to hurt you.”
“I realize that, but on my part I always felt something was holding you back. If you ever figure it out and find yourself whole of heart, you know where to find me.”
Even deeply upset, she had a graciousness and maturity he had to admire. “I’m sorry, Annette. Give me some time and I’ll get back to you.”
“I won’t be holding my breath, Vince.”
He heard the click.
Though Vincenzo hadn’t wanted to cause her pain, his sense of relief that he didn’t have to pretend with her had removed a burden. He’d told her the only truth he knew, since he needed time to deal with his emotions.
The reality of seeing Gemma again, the incredible coincidence that she’d applied for the pastry chef position, had knocked the foundations from under him.
At ten after six, he entered Florence at the height of evening traffic and found the Bonucci pastry shop. After searching everywhere for her old Fiat, he drove around the corner into an alley. Her blue car sat beside a stairway leading to the second floor of the bakery.
He found another spot along the crowded one-way street. Once he’d parked his car at the rear of the pasteria next door, he took the steps two at a time to the little porch outside her door. To think all these years since leaving the castello this place had been her home. How could he or Dimi have known?
He knocked twice.
Soon he heard, “Chi e?”
He was glad she didn’t automatically open the door. Anyone could be out here. “It’s Vincenzo. I would have phoned you I was coming, but I wasn’t sure you would answer.”
There was a long silence. “Go away!”
“I can’t. Surely you can see that,” he fought back. “I never expected any of this to happen. Even if you refuse to come to work for us, how could you think I would just let you drive away?”
“I’m not going to open my door. Go back to your home, Vincenzo.”
What home? He hadn’t known that feeling in the ten years since he’d last been with her. He broke out in a cold sweat. So much damage had been done, he didn’t know if he could repair any of it, even if he told her the real truth of everything.
“Would you deny your time to any other person you knew well in the past who wanted to get reacquainted after a long period of separation? Since I’ve come all this way and am starving, let’s have dinner at the pasteria next door. We’ll order some wine and reminisce over a time when life was wonderful for both of us.”
“That would be a mistake.”
“You don’t recommend the food? If anyone would know whether it was good or not, you’re the one.”
“Be serious, Vincenzo,” she snapped.
“I’m trying to be. You have no idea how isolated I’ve felt all these years. Dimi and I are the only ones left who can talk about that other life and relate. Our fathers kept us under virtual lock and key, with bodyguards controlling everything we did. You better than anyone know that they only allowed us to have a few friends they picked.
“But all these years there’s been a huge hole, and you know why. Because that other life included you. I need a few hours with you, Gemma.” His voice shook. “Will you grant me that much?”
He waited for her response. “You’re not the person I thought you were, Vincenzo. Otherwise you wouldn’t have left without so much as a goodbye. I was never good enough for you, we both know that. We’ve led separate lives since your disappearance, and we were never the same people growing up.”
His eyes closed tightly, but her pain kept her talking.
“You’re from one world and I’m from another. A little while ago the reminder came from the padrona, who said the Duca di Lombardi was standing outside waiting to see me. There’s no need for us to talk or be with each other again, Vincenzo.”
She knew where to thrust through to the gut. Her mother had done a sensational job of indoctrinating her over the nonsense of ancient class distinctions he couldn’t abide.
“If I swear on my mother’s soul to leave you strictly alone, will you accept the position at the castello to see us through the first three months? Takis and Cesare will be the ones working with you. I’ll stay out of your way unless there’s a professional reason why I have to talk to you about something.”
Was she even listening?
“You can put me on probation, Gemma. If I make one mistake, you can leave immediately, no questions asked. If at the end of the three months you still want to leave, you’ll receive impeccable recommendations and be given a generous severance package of your choosing.”
“Why would you enter into an arrangement like that when you know how I feel?”
“Because your expertise as a pastry chef is unparalleled. My partners will be bitterly disappointed to learn that you’ve refused the position because you can’t forgive me for my past sins.”
“It’s not a matter of forgiveness. The trust is gone.”
Vincenzo couldn’t take this much longer. “They trust me. You have to understand that I asked them to go into business with me. But for me they wouldn’t be here. Not only my integrity, but their financial lives and reputations are on the line. Like me, they want our business venture to work.”
“As you told me earlier, you have three other applicants eager to work there.”
“My friends don’t want anyone else and are convinced that with everything we’ve put in place including your cooking, we’ll succeed beyond our wildest dreams. I know we will, because I grew up on your mother’s delicacies that you’ve perfected. You have no equal, Gemma.”
“Please leave.”
“I only have one more thing to say. You don’t have to make a decision this very minute. I’m on my way back to Milan.” I’ve got to stop and see Dimi. He wasn’t going to believe Gemma had been found.
“Gemma? If you don’t show up for your first orientation meeting with rest of the staff the day after tomorrow, then I’ll tell my partners you found you couldn’t accept the position after all because of a family emergency at the bakery. Naturally we’ll choose one of the other pastry chef finalists.”
She still said nothing.
His pain had reached its zenith. “Arrivederci, tesoro.”
* * *
Gemma gasped. The night in his bedroom when they’d been wrapped in each other’s arms, he’d called her his treasure. While her world spun in reaction to that endearment, she watched out the window. His car traveled down the street until she couldn’t see him anymore.
Surely to accept his offer would mean that she had no self-control, that all he had to do was summon her in his inimitable, seductive way and she’d come running.
What else could she expect when Vincenzo’s immoral father and uncle had been his role models? He might not think he could ever behave as they’d done, but the precedent had been set for decades. Once he married a princess and had children, the need for distraction would come.
With business enterprises on either side of the Atlantic, he’d have ample opportunities to be with women his wife wouldn’t know about. Or would pretend not to know about. Who better than the adoring daughter of the former cook to fill the position as one of his mistresses and provide him amusement during secret getaways when he was in Italy?
Gemma, unmarried and childless, wouldn’t have a life while she waited for those moments of rapture with him. Little by little his need for her would grow more infrequent while she went on getting older and more unfulfilled. Over the centuries, women of the lower class had done as much in order to be with the titled men they’d loved, but Gemma refused to be one of them!
She’d been afraid he’d break her down with words like this. Somehow he was succeeding despite her determination not to listen or be moved. Tears dripped from her eyes while she called Filippa, who’d just come out of a bad relationship.
Her friend knew Gemma’s history. When she heard Vincenzo was back in Gemma’s life, she cried out in shock. For the next hour Gemma told her everything.
Before they hung up, Filippa asked her one salient question. “Did he ever do anything in his past that caused you not to trust him until the day when you learned he had disappeared?”
“No. But we’re grown up now, and he’s the duca. I can’t see our lives together in any way, shape or form.”
“From what you’ve told me, he hasn’t asked for more than a three-month probationary period to help him get their restaurant off the ground. He wants you to have this position because you were the top applicant. Naturally he wants to make it up to you for leaving without an explanation.”
“I know.”
“Remember that he said he needed to make money and couldn’t let his father find out his plans. That sounds like a strong reason for what he did. And don’t forget he said he looked for you over all these years. So what more can he do to make you feel any better? You did sign on with them in good faith, and they did, too.”
Gemma sniffed. Put that way, there was no argument. “You’re right.”
“If I were you, I’d agree to his offer. He promised to leave you alone away from work, and he would be a fool if he reneges. Just think, Gemma—the opportunity to be the head pastry chef there will give you entrée anywhere in the world when you leave. With a five-star recommendation, you’ll have carte blanche with whichever wonderful restaurant in France you’d like and you could realize your dream.”
Filippa made it sound possible, even easy. But she’d never met Vincenzo Gagliardi and had no comprehension of the man Gemma had always loved. Every day of those three months she worked at the castello, she’d be in agony thinking about him, desiring him. Was he on the premises, or was he in New York? How soon would the media reveal breaking news about the fiercely handsome, dashing Duca di Lombardi coming back home? Which gorgeous princess would be the one to catch his eye and become his bride and the mother of his children?
“Gemma? Are you still there?”
She blinked away the moisture. “Yes, of course. I was deep in thought. Sorry.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure, but I love you for listening to me and helping me sort through my pain.”
“You’ve done the same thing for me too many times to count. I’ve got to go right now. Let me know what you finally decide.”
“I will. Ciao, Filippa.”
“Ciao, amica.”
While Gemma fixed herself an omelet, she reran their conversation over in her mind. By the time she went to bed, her pragmatic side had taken over. She needed a job and had been offered one that would make her the envy of everyone at her school. There was no way she could turn down his offer.