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How To Propose To A Princess
How To Propose To A Princess
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How To Propose To A Princess

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“How about Babbo’s?”

Her heart leaped. He’d just invited her on a date. “I’d love it.”

“Then let’s go.”

As she reached for her laptop, he picked up the dog and they left the hospital.

Fausta couldn’t believe he’d asked her out and was literally floating as they walked the short distance to the trattoria. For a while she could be the commoner she’d always wanted to be, going out to dinner with a fabulous man who wanted to be with her.

This was the normal life she’d always wanted! The way the women stared at him during their walk, she knew they’d give anything to be in her place.

When they reached Babbo’s, Nico found them a booth and they both ordered lasagna. After they began eating, she asked, “How was your day?”

“Busy. A fifty-year-old male patient of mine had his gall bladder removed this morning. His surgeon didn’t want to release him until tomorrow. Though he should do well, I need to know if there are any complications before I go home.”

“Where would our world be without doctors like you? I know my father relies on his. We’re all indebted to him.”

Nico blinked. “What’s wrong with him?”

“A bad heart. These days my brother-in-law Prince Stefano is helping him more and more with the load.”

“I’m sorry he’s not well.”

She sighed. “I am too and shouldn’t have said anything. No one outside the family knows.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

Fausta finished her coffee. “I believe you.” She’d lost her trust in men four years ago, but somehow she felt she could trust this doctor who took her breath away and had a bedside manner that instilled confidence in his patients.

One dark brow lifted. “Did you find any new benefactors this morning?”

She welcomed the change of subject. “Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Fund-raising takes time, but I had such a wonderful afternoon with the children, I can’t complain about anything.”

“Nor I.”

Suddenly his phone rang and he answered. When he hung up, he said, “I was afraid of this and need to check on my patient now. Tell me something. How do you get home at night?”

“Don’t worry about me. I call for the limo. The driver will pick me up here.”

“I’m sorry I have to go.” He got to his feet and picked up the dog. “Do you work tomorrow?”

Her pulse picked up speed. “Yes. Tuesday through Friday.”

“Unfortunately I have a two day seminar that will prevent me from meeting you. If you’re free Sunday evening, I’d like to see you again.”

“I want that too.” Her swift response thrilled him. “When you come to the palace, drive around to the left entrance and I’ll be there waiting for you. Just name the time.”

“Six thirty?”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you for dinner this evening.”

“I’m the one wanting to thank you for coming with me.” After reaching for the dog, he glanced at her. “I don’t want to leave, but work calls.”

“Don’t apologize. I bet your patient can’t wait to see you walk in his room. I know that’s how I would feel.”

If she didn’t miss her guess, she sensed he would rather stay with her. Heaven help her but she hated that the evening had to end so fast. Sunday sounded so far away.

“I’ll see you soon, Princess. And I’ll make certain Tommaso receives his gift when he comes in for his checkup.”

“Grazie. A presto, dottore.”

CHAPTER TWO (#ufd94c3b9-e1be-5d4e-9530-d7ca1c388418)

NICO LAY AWAKE half the night. He kept seeing the princess’s incredible light blue eyes staring into his, holding him spellbound. The words that she wanted to be with him too haunted him throughout the two days of meetings. But his insecurity over not knowing who his parents were made him feel less worthy of her interest. It was hard for him to believe she wanted to be with him.

The women he dated on occasion didn’t come close to her kind of compassion or understanding, let alone her beauty. She was unique in ways that made him hunger to know her better. Much better.

On Sunday evening he drove to the fifteenth century palace and followed her instructions that led him to the side entrance. She stood outside the doors next to a guard waiting for him, dressed in a wispy blouse and skirt in a heavenly shade of hyacinth.

Her flowery fragrance filled the interior of his car as he helped her inside. Within seconds he drove his car out of the parking area and the estate onto the street.

“Fasten your seat belt, Princess.”

“I will if you’ll do me a favor and start calling me Fausta.”

“You’re sure?”

She let out a gentle laugh he loved hearing. “Since we’re going to be seeing each other more often from now on at the hospital, it sounds too formal. Do you mind if I call you Nico?”

“Do you have to ask?” It didn’t seem possible that they were on a first name basis. Excitement shouldn’t have rippled through him.

“What do you ask the patients to call you? That is if they don’t recognize you.”

“Even if they do, I introduce myself as Fausta, as I did with Tommaso. My full name is Vittoria Eugenia Fausta Rossiano, but I prefer Fausta.”

He filed that information away for future reference and turned onto another boulevard, but the traffic was heavy everywhere. “With your many responsibilities as a princess and fund-raiser, how do you have time to volunteer too?”

She turned to him. “Mammahas always said that charity never fails. By balancing my priorities raising funds for the homeless shelters Lanza is in charge of, I have time to volunteer. I envy my friend Mia for working at the hospital. When she mentioned a new volunteer program being started a few months ago, I jumped at the opportunity to indulge myself if there was an opening.”

“Indulge?” he asked, full of admiration for her willingness to serve.

“Yes. You don’t know how much fun it is to listen to older people talk about their past or read stories to the children when they’re too sick to do anything else but listen. Lanza has an adorable baby boy, Ridolfo. He’s eight months now and I already read to him. As you know, she married Prince Stefano of the Kingdom of Umbriano. Luckily they live here.

“As for my eldest sister, Donetta, she’s married to King Enrico of the country of Vallefiore and is expecting. I’m excited about another niece or nephew coming along.”

He smiled. “I remember reading in the news about their marriages.”

She nodded. “Maybe they’ll have a cute little girl or a boy like Ridolfo or Tommaso.”

“You made his day. I listened while you finished reading to him.”

“I’m the one who loved it. He asked a lot of questions about Pompeii, especially when I told him I’d been there and described some of the things I’d seen. He said he wanted to go there. He’s a bright boy.”

“I agree. In the beginning, did he recognize you as Princess Fausta?”

“If he did, he never let on. Children are wonderful. They don’t set up boundaries.”

Like you have, Barsotti. The fact that he’d even asked the question revealed his amazement that she continued to want to be with him. “I think most every adult has that problem who meets a royal like you.”

“It shouldn’t be that way. From the first time I realized I was born a royal, I fought against it and wanted to be a commoner. Though I can’t change my heritage, I live my life like an ordinary person as much as possible.”

That revelation came as a surprise to him. “Why do you feel that way?”

“You don’t know how difficult it is to grow up not having your father around when you need to talk to him. It’s not natural to have to make appointments to see him. If you want to know the truth, I wouldn’t wish my royal life on anyone.”

“I had no idea.” She sounded so completely serious, he had to believe her. Yet it still didn’t change his wonderment that she wanted to be with him.

“I guess you’ve already noticed I’m always ready for a meal.”

He grinned. “By the lovely look of you, no one would guess. I’m starving too. What do you like?”

“Anything. Surprise me. I’d like to see where the renowned Dr. Nico Barsotti goes for a meal after an exhausting day.” Renowned? “I’m always looking for a good spot to eat.”

“That doesn’t sound like you spend much time at the palace.”

He felt her eyes on him as he headed for the old part of the city with its narrow cobblestoned streets. “How many hours a day do you stay in the place where you live?”

Nico knew where this conversation was going. Once again he’d left himself wide open with a statement that showed how off the mark he was over the life of a royal. “I sleep there. That’s about it.”

“You’ve just described my life.”

Except that her world was full of activity he knew nothing about and wished he didn’t want to know. There was no way he could ever have a romantic relationship with her. Though she insisted there was no one and she was free to be with him, he believed her parents would eventually prevail on her to marry some important prince. Again, he reminded himself that her sisters had married royalty. Why would it be different for her?

“There’s a small restaurant around the next corner that serves one of my favorite dishes. Have you ever eaten maialino allo spiedo?”

Her eyes sparkled like blue diamonds. “Roast pig? I’m sure I have.”

“But this recipe is different and you’re in for a real treat.”

After a minute he found a parking space along the ancient street, but it turned out to be a tight squeeze between cars smaller than his. He slid from the car and hurried around to help her.

Soon people were staring at her, but she seemed oblivious. He noticed that men couldn’t take their eyes off her. No doubt they wished they were in Nico’s shoes as he ushered her inside Prospero’s, a small dimly lit cantina over two hundred years old.

The owner saw Nico and hurried toward him with a wide smile. He couldn’t take his gaze off Fausta. “Dottore—are my eyes deceiving me?” he whispered.

Nico chuckled. “No, amico mio. Prospero Gallo? May I introduce Princess Fausta Rossiano?”

“I knew it! Benvenuto, Your Highness!” He beamed. “I’ve never been so honored.”

“Just call me Fausta, Signor Gallo, and I’m the one who feels privileged. Nico tells me you make the best roast pig in Domodossola.”

Nico could tell by the way the owner seemed at a sudden loss for words that her compliment had thrilled Prospero. But after a moment he recovered and led them past several other diners to the best table of the house in the corner, where they were seated.

“We don’t need a menu, Prospero. Just some white wine and your wife’s rigotoni alla carbanara to go with the maialino allo spiedo followed by coffee.”

“Al vostro servizio,Nico.” His gaze switched to Fausta. “Princess,” he murmured before hurrying to the kitchen, unable to call her by her first name.

By now the staff had to be aware of their illustrious visitor. Nico knew that a visit from a member of the royal family had made Prospero’s night. Being with her had made Nico’s night and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest.

“The owner is charming. Has he been a patient of yours?”

“No. We met in an entirely different way. When I moved to Domodossola eighteen months ago and joined the hospital staff, I asked around to find out what restaurants served roast pig. I tried several places, but they were a disappointment. Then I came to Prospero’s and now I never go anywhere else when I’m in the mood for it.”

“Why is that dish so special to you?” She’d just sipped the wine one of the waiters had brought to their table. Her lips glistened from the liquid, causing him to think thoughts he shouldn’t be having, like how she would taste right now if he were to kiss her. His instant attraction to her was growing in leaps.

He drank some of his. “They use an old recipe that reminds me of the years I lived in Biella.”

Her eyes searched his. “You mean Biella, Italy?”

“Have you been there?”

“Once years ago, with my mother and sisters. Mammaloved it because it was hilly with old castellos she’d visited as a child. As I recall, we had lunch there with a friend of my father’s cousin. I remember walking up the steep, narrow streets to the citadel.”

“I did it many times myself.”

“So you’re Italian! You must be here on a visa. Now that you’re a doctor here, do you think in time you might apply for Domodossolan citizenship? Quite a few people from other countries hold dual citizenship.”

“That’s true—”

But before he could answer her question, Prospero brought their food to the table. He nodded to Nico then said, “Buon appetito,Princess.”

“Grazie,signor.It looks delicious. So does the rigotoni alla carbanara.”

Nico eyed her after Prospero walked away. “He cooks the meat. His wife makes the pasta with guaciale.”

She looked surprised. “Doesn’t that mean ‘cheeks’?”

He chuckled. “In this case pig’s cheeks. Normally the pasta is made with pancetta,but the meat is too crisp. Guaciale melts in your mouth.”All the time they talked, he couldn’t stop admiring the mold of her face and the way her eyes danced. There wasn’t another woman like her in existence and he didn’t want this evening to end.

The waiter brought coffee as they started eating. After a few minutes she leaned toward Nico. “This food is divine. How do you know all this? Were you a five-star chef before you became a doctor?”

“Not exactly. From the age of twelve to eighteen I was a pig farmer on an estate on the outskirts of Biella before and after school.”

“You’re kidding!” she cried with excitement. “You got to play with all the little piglets?”

Her comment tickled him. “You like pigs?”

She smiled. “Yes! Sometimes my sisters and I would visit a pig farm on the palatial estate and I always wanted to take one home and turn it into a pet like my rabbit. My parents forbade it, but—Oh, they’re so adorable!”