The Prince's Nanny (18 page)

He sat on the floor next to the basket and lifted the cotton tablecloth off the top with a flourish as if he was the head waiter at a five-star restaurant and had forgotten that he was a wealthy banker who was imprisoned with his nanny in a tower for three days.  She sat across from him and smiled at his extravagant gesture.

He smiled back and she thought for a fleeting moment that three days alone with him might not be so bad after all.

“Bruschetta with caponata, if I’m not mistaken,” he said.  “Grilled rustic bread with a mixture of eggplant, pinenuts, olives and capers piled on the bread.  My favorite.  I’ll give them that, they have thought this out, unless it was all the cook’s idea.”

Sabrina sniffed the mixture.  “I believe they told her they had to bring a picnic with them.  I’m glad they did whatever it was.  It smells wonderful.”

“It is the best caponata you’ll ever have,” he said.

“What’s this?” she asked, taking a ceramic bowl from the basket.

“Dessert,” he said.  “Summer fruit in wine.”

“So that’s why they were picking mint from the garden,” Sabrina murmured, admiring the bright red strawberries and chunks of orange melon garnished with sprigs of fragrant mint.  “I even helped them.  Those little devils.”

“Devils is right,” he said.  “They’re doing their best to tempt us.  Look, here’s a bottle of my favorite white Zoave, crisp and still cold.  Now how did they manage to riffle the wine cellar?”  He held up the bottle and shook his head.  “There’s more here, I dare say enough for our total imprisonment.  Whatever they want us to do, it isn’t to starve.”

As if he didn’t know what they wanted them to do.  It was obvious now that she thought of it.  It was her fault.  She’d made friends with the girls.  She’d understood their reluctance to go to boarding school so she hadn’t pushed them.  In that sense, she’d gone against Vittorio’s wishes and for that she deserved to be fired.  But what would happen to the girls?  That’s what concerned her.

“What will you do when we’re released from captivity?” he asked, the bottle of wine in one hand, a shock of hair falling over his forehead as casual as if he was at a real picnic and not imprisoned in a tower.  Where was the formal banker she’d seen pulling off a merger?  This was more like the sexy swimmer who’d kissed her at the pool.  Who was she spending the weekend with?

“I’ll book a ticket back home to San Francisco,” she said.  “But first I’m going to Rome to see the sights.”

“The Coliseum, the Trastavere, the Vatican, the Forum?”

“Everything I can squeeze into a week’s vacation.”

“You should have a guide.”

“I have a guide book.”

“What will we do without you?” he asked.

“You’ll manage.  There are other boarding schools they can apply to or I can send you another nanny,” she said.

“It won’t be the same.”

“Nothing is ever the same.  Surely we both know that.  But life goes on.”  She was proud of her philosophical attitude, even if she felt anything but philosophical at the moment.  She was trying to be strong, to be firm and not give in if he asked her to stay on.  Inside her head a voice was saying,
Tell me if you want me to stay.  Say it.  Tell me why.  And make it a good reason.  The reason I want to hear.  If you don’t I have to leave.

“The girls want you to stay.  They’ve gone to great lengths to show you that.”  He waved an arm around the room, from the bolted door to the high narrow windows to the cot in the corner.

The girls wanted her to stay.  He didn’t.  That much was clear.  “I’m touched, I really am.  But we had an agreement, you and I.  I didn’t do what you hired me to do.  I’ve done everything I can do here.”

“Everything?”  There was a gleam in his eye she couldn’t ignore.  What did he mean?  What did he want from her?  He seemed more relaxed and more easy-going than she’d ever seen him.  The teasing look in his eyes was something she’d never noticed before.  Was his work so demanding that he was glad for a weekend off even though he had no choice in the matter

“You’re going back to the agency?” he asked.

“Yes.”  The thought of spending her days in the office with her step-mother looking over her shoulder while she placed skilled nannies in desirable positions was not something to look forward to.  But what choice did she have?  Take on another nanny position?  Fall in love with yet another employer?  What was wrong with her?  Did she have no self control?  She could leave next week with happy memories of her stay here.  She could and she would.

To avoid looking at Vittorio she looked into the picnic basket and found two candles.

“Why the candles?” she asked him.  “Is there no electric power up here?”

“Of course,” he said.  But when he went to check, he found the lightbulbs had been removed.  “They want us to eat by candlelight, I think.  Where do they get these ideas?”

“I can’t take credit or blame for everything they do,” she said.  “They are your daughters and from what you’ve told me of your childhood, they are following in your footsteps in many ways.  Perhaps they’ll end up working at your bank one day.”

He laughed.  It was a sound she never thought she’d hear.  “My daughters at the bank,” he said.  “That would be something to see.  I suppose you could be right.  If we can find a way to channel all that energy.”

From her position on the floor, Sabrina leaned back against the foot of the bed.  He said
we
, meaning her and himself.  Why did he say that when she’d made it clear she was not staying?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Vittorio said, his smile fading.  “You want to know what they inherited from Maddelena.  Energy and imagination for sure.”

“Both of which are needed in the banking business, aren’t they?”

Vittorio nodded.  She was right about that.  He should have known he couldn’t avoid the subject of Maddelena forever.  He owed Sabrina some explanation.  But the whole truth?  He’d never divulged it to anyone before.  Why start now?  The answer came immediately.  Sabrina cared.  She cared about the girls.  She cared about the villa and she even cared about him.  At least a little.  And she was leaving next week and she’d take his secret with her if he asked her to.

“I’ve spent the past seven years trying to forget their mother,” he said staring at the wall.  “I don’t like talking about her.”  Then he popped the cork on the Zoave bottle.  “It’s not a happy story.”

“I understand,” she said.  “You have the right to remain silent.  You don’t owe me anything.  I don’t need to know anything about her.”

He glanced around at the small enclosure that was their weekend prison or retreat, depending on your outlook,  and gave her a small smile.  “You’re a good sport,” he said.  “
Buon sport
.  Any other woman who was locked up for the weekend with me might be going crazy.”

“I don’t think I have a choice, do I?”

“You could scream and cry.”

“Is that what Maddelena would have done?”

“She was capable of making a scene and she hated being  cooped up.  She wanted her freedom.”

He went into the bathroom where he found two glasses and poured some wine in each.  When he handed her the glass, he said, “Haven’t you heard enough about her?  It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She had a point.  Neither one was going anywhere.  He sat on the floor next to her, his arm against hers.  Outside the window, dusk was falling.  Later he would light the candles, but for now he preferred the semi-darkness which would make it easier to talk about the past.  If possible.  He took a drink of wine and rubbed his chin before he began.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

She nodded.  He moved closer.  So close a lock of her hair brushed against his cheek.  She didn’t seem to know they were knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder, but he knew.  He inhaled the fresh summer scent of her.  She was a breath of air that had blown all the way from California to his villa in Italy to stir his blood, to revive his spirit.  He owed her his story.  At least that much.

“All right then.  Maddelena was the girl of my dreams.  Her family is like mine, old and wealthy and respected.  But Elena as we called her was different.  She had a wild streak.  She drove the fastest car, rode the wildest horse, gambled and partied until dawn.  You saw her picture in the library.  You know she was beautiful.  Men were after her ever since I can remember.  I know because I was one of them.  I knew what she was like and I was drawn to her like a moth to the flame.  So was everyone else.  She was always surrounded by men.  They found her irresistible.”

“But she chose you,” Sabrina said.

“Her father chose me,” he said ruefully.  “That was my first mistake.”

“She did what she was supposed to.  She obeyed her father?”

“Only that once and then she regretted it.  Her family wanted to link our two families together.  What better way than to plan a dynasty?  I was happy.  No I was beyond happy.  I was embarking on a new future with the woman I loved.  We had money, position, and planned to have a family.”

“What about Elena?”

“Happy was not a word in her vocabulary,” he said.  “It was something she was always looking for but never found.  As far as I know.”

“How did she die?”

“It was an accident.  She was driving her Ferrari 250 on the road to Florence when she crashed. Seven years ago. She died instantly.  The twins were only a few weeks old.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” he said stiffly.  It felt good to tell her.  It felt right.  Of course it wasn’t the whole story, but it was all he could say.  The whole story was too painful.  Fortunately no one knew and no one ever would.  He refilled Sabrina’s glass then he turned to her.  “Now it’s your turn.”

“I have no story to tell.  No husband, no children.  I’m an orphan, that’s why I love being a nanny or placing nannies.  I get to be a part of a family for a while, live a different life than my own and then move on.”

“No desire to stay in one place?” he asked.

“That would be boring.  If I stayed in one place I never would have come here, never met you or the girls, never seen the lakes or driven to Milan.”

“Can’t I convince you to stay somewhat longer?  If you don’t care about me, at least consider the girls.  I need help in finding a solution for them, a new nanny or a different school.  I need your help, Sabrina.”

He hoped she’d want to help the girls before she left.  But the real reason was that life at the villa was different with her there.  For the first time since Maddelena died he looked forward to coming home.  After his stay in Rome he cut his time short so he could return early.

“I’ll help you from my office in San Francisco,” she said.  I can do research from there into schools and I can interview nannies in person to make sure you get the right one if that’s what you want.”

I want you
, he said to himself.  He couldn’t tell her that.  It wasn’t fair to make her stay if she didn’t want to.  If she found life here to be boring.  He definitely couldn’t keep her on indefinitely.

“Is there someone back there waiting for you?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“My stepmother and step-sisters.”