The Olive Oil King and The Principessa

By Maxine Davis

Kate Hanley, singing star of Angel and the Devil's Band, collapsed after their last concert.  Under doctor's orders to rest away from fame, Kate Hanley arrives at a pensione in a small Italian town where she finally learns to take life easy.  Love is the last thing on her agenda—until she meets Alessandro Rossi, a neighbor who produces the best olive oil in Italy.  

He knows her as Kate from North Carolina, his beautiful fairy-tale princess.  His mysterious disdain for pop stars keeps her from revealing her true life. Then her cousin arrives with a shadowy secret, bringing danger to Kate's sanctuary and demanding revelations that test Kate and Alessandro's love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Greenway Publishing House, LLC
• Release date: Apr 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9781733451031

Book preview

1

At last! Kate Hanley’s energy, fueled by adrenaline during the death-wish ride from the airport, ebbed away as the taxi stopped. She glared at the back of the maniac driver before glancing out the side window at a large building. I see we lived to reach Pensione Trovatelli.

For the first time since they started their journey, the mammoth driver removed his ear buds, turned around and smiled. His gaze settled on her hands. Kate raised them in front of her weary eyes. Oh, yes. I need to pay you. She leaned her head back, gathering energy, and closed her eyes. Her voice was a whisper. Give me a moment.

Her body would welcome a brief nap, but she needed out of the taxi before the engine started again.

Pulling herself together, she paid him, stepped out of the cab and paused to inhale air free of stale cigar smoke and garlic. Refreshed, she looked at her home for the next two months. It wasn’t the small hotel she expected. A luscious green lawn surrounded the large, white stucco house. Across the yard, a wishing well sat in front of two huge oak trees with some chairs lined up in the shade. The scene beckoned her. Another day.

Strange—no smog, no traffic noise. Kate squared her shoulders and pushed the car door shut with her hip. She ran a hand through her hair. How the hell did she get talked into going to Italy? Surely doctor’s orders to rest for two months didn’t mean she had to abandon everything familiar to her.

A dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway of the house. An apron stained with spatters of red sauce covered her rounded figure. Her hand shaded her eyes as she stood on the steps and squinted at the driver as he spoke to her in Italian through the open window of his cab. When he stopped talking, the woman yanked the apron over her head and threw it back in the house, calling out her welcome. "Ciao, signorina Hanley. Benevento. Siamo felici che siete qui."

Kate understood ciao and signorina Hanley but that was it. Her assistant, Nance, said the family here spoke English. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips.

She propped her body on the front of the taxi as the woman continued her conversation with the driver, in Italian of course, nodding as she walked closer. Her gaze rested on Kate and a broad smile crossed her face. This time she spoke in English with a heavy accent. Hello, Miss Hanley. Welcome. We are happy that you are here. A quick nod. And we hope you will enjoy your stay at Trovatelli’s.

Kate managed a smile. Thank you.

She hugged her small carry-on to her chest while holding her purse and trying to zip her billfold as the lady turned back to the house. Come. I show you to your room. Your luggage, it arrive this morning. Alessandro, he already take it up for me.

Kate nodded and blew out a deep breath of relief. With a wave to her driver, she forced her body to catch up with her host.

Inside, her battle to balance her purse and manage her wallet continued. A movement caught her eye. She bobbled, dropping her purse, as a deep sultry voice cemented her to the spot.

Hello … The man picked up her purse in his left hand as he reached out his right hand.

Kate stopped, eyes catching a blue shirt before observing the man wearing it, and wow. She snapped her mouth closed as she gazed into his dark eyes. He shook back wavy black hair. A sexy mouth turned up in a slight smile. His fine body was almost hidden by the faded denim shirt covered in dust and tight-fitting jeans that left nothing to the imagination.

She could brush that dirt off, maybe even get some on her, and taste that smile. … No. Stop. Smuggling workers into guest rooms is surely forbidden.

She cleared her throat and shoved the carry-on in his right hand as she muttered a forced Hello and hurried up the steps until she reached Mrs. Trovatelli at the top. Kate, exhaustion forgotten, tossed her head, smiled, and said in her sexy voice, Thank you. She turned in time to see him wave a hand in the air and continue his descent, her purse and carry-on sitting on the landing beside her. Gazing at his backside as it disappeared down the steps, her lips puckered in a silent whistle while fanning her face. You are one fine-looking, hard-working Italian.

Mrs. Trovatelli asked, Why Alessandro go back downstairs?

And I thought his name was Italian God. Kate turned an innocent expression toward her. I don’t know. I gave him my small bag to carry.

Mrs. Trovatelli’s eyebrows rose. Oh. Uh. Never you mind. Her hand motioned. This is your room on the left. No one else here. Lady on phone said you pay for all rooms. The woman stopped in the doorway with one hand on her hip, turned and looked at Kate from her sandal-clad feet to the top of her head.

Uh-oh, what have I done wrong?

Come, come. You are pale and skinny. You need rest and put a little meat on your bones. Her chest heaved as she laughed and stepped aside. I can cure both.

Kate gave her a weak smile. It seems speaking the truth wasn’t rude here, but no telling what Nance had told the lady when making the reservation.

Mrs. Trovatelli smiled and made a sweeping motion with her hand. Come in, Miss Hanley. You rest a while. I will call you when dinner is ready. We have a wonderful pasta.

Please, call me Kate. I look forward to it.

Yes. And I am Arianna. After you unpack, you can leave your luggage in the hall, and it will be stored for you. Now sleep. She shut the door leaving Kate to her thoughts, which played around the Italian god she’d passed.

Putting him out of her mind, she glanced around her room. It wasn’t much larger than the huge bathroom at her condo in California, but its coziness wrapped around her with the warmth of a security blanket.

In front of the window sat a big white and green overstuffed chair. She sat, turned sideways, pulled her knees up and observed a blue sky that served as the backdrop for green trees, spattered about as if in a painting, as far as she could see. Next to the chair stood a small wooden table and chair. Perfect.

She stood and admired the old iron double bed with a snow-white spread and huge pillows. She turned and bounced on it. Soft. Her king-sized sprawling would be condensed to a smaller area, but one touch of the cotton throw at the bottom of the bed, and she envisioned many blissful nights.

Getting here from California had been insane, but in this place it would be easier to follow doctor’s orders: Go where you are not known. Rest and relax.

Kate glanced in the mirror as her hand touched her hair. Her hairdresser had transformed her waist-length white and purple rock-star hair into a short, honey-colored style with bouncy curls. With little make-up and no designer clothes, she did not recognize Angel of Angel and the Devil’s Band. The best part? No one else recognized her, either.

She pushed the curtain aside to get a better view of the olive trees. The gentleness of a soft breeze covered her like a veil. The handsome Italian existed somewhere out there, but she wasn’t here to meet men. She was here to rest, whether or not she agreed with the two-month sentence. She leaned on the windowsill, tired once again. I do need to rest. There could be an army of gorgeous Italian men out there, but her body demanded sleep. Alone. Now.

Moving away from the window, she chuckled. Holy cow. I did it. I’m in Italy, and nobody noticed. She fell backwards across the bed. No rehearsals. No recordings. And no late nights if she didn’t choose them.

This room would be her sanctuary—a cozy space, with hundreds of cypress trees surrounding an olive grove, a perfect privacy fence to keep her secret safe. No one here needed to know she was a mega star. Maybe, in time, she could rediscover what she’d traded long ago for stardom.

Kate had always wanted to travel, but she blamed her delayed visit on constant work and always doing the expected. She took care of those who worked for her, like her cousin, Tommy, in charge of her wardrobe. It took a lot of people behind the scenes to keep Angel and The Devil’s Band in concerts around the world for months every year. She relied on almost a hundred people to have everything in top working order, outfits ordered, hotels rented, food prepared—a never-ending obligation. Her doctor told her she did not take on all these people to raise, but her feelings of responsibility always won. Now, the corners of her mouth turned up in amusement. Here she sat, doing what was expected, but this time, doctor’s orders were obeyed. Yes, a prescription she could follow. Kate took a deep breath and experienced the peaceful solitude around her.

When she frowned at the luxurious Mulberry Scotchgrain suitcase, it intruded into her peace. Walmart luggage would have been fine, she muttered, irritated with herself for being talked into such an expense. She heaved it onto the bed and opened it. I can’t believe I brought this many clothes.

Kate began unpacking—by herself, no Nance to take over and no one being paid to wait on her. She savored this moment of independence, grateful for the silence as well. No sound checks, no microphones blaring, and no music like at her condo, often so loud that her head swam. Life without a soundtrack playing was good.

Stacking her plainest clothes in neat piles, Kate placed them in the cedar-lined drawers. She reached for the next item. Hm-m, what’s this doing here?

The skimpy top lying in the bottom of the suitcase was what she’d worn at the last concert. Holding it up against her breast, her fingers touched the sparkling green and clear stones. She remembered requesting Tommy make them sparkle like emeralds and diamonds under the lights. Great job, Tommy. Holding it in the sunlight, there were bright green twinkling spots and exploding clear ones dancing on the walls. Oh, yeah, like I’ll wear this while I’m here. No way. Did you pack this, Nance?

Kate’s remembered Nance, her true friend and personal assistant, as she packed and told Kate, "You take care of everyone else, but I take care of you." She wouldn’t be here without Nance.

Tommy seemed in Nance’s way more than helping when he picked up the top, asking, Hey, Kate, you want this cleaned?

Leave her alone, Tommy. She’s supposed to rest. Nance took the beautiful top and pitched it toward the bed.

Kate laughed at the memory. Of course, if I need to sparkle and shine during the next two months, this little number will do the trick. Tossing it back in the suitcase, she snapped it shut and set it in the hall to be stored.

With that job complete, Kate closed the door and climbed into bed, clothes and all. Bed. Alone. Now.

The breeze from the open window danced across her warm face like feathered fingertips as she let go of the craziness of getting to Italy. The reward was to be alone in such a cozy room with no responsibility, except herself. Wow. It was starting to sink in. So this is what people do to relax.

But that thought brought another problem. Her frayed nerves would make it impossible to sleep. That’s okay. A few minutes of rest would help. She closed her eyes.

In her dream world, the man was tall and rugged, with thick black hair and big worker’s hands that surprised her with their gentleness. His face—a blur.

A soft knock woke her. She lifted the lids of her eyes and blinked a few times, but nothing looked familiar. Oh yeah, Italy, a million miles from where she started. Did she really sleep? For how long? The weight of dragging herself off the bed made it difficult to concentrate. Her foggy mind cleared as she went to the door. Who would be knocking anyway? She cracked open the door.

You eat dinner now. Arianna stood, waiting expectantly, as she stepped aside and motioned Kate out.

Kate made no move to go but offered a smile. I don’t think I care for anything to eat, but thanks, anyway.

The woman said something in Italian then left.

Kate climbed back on the bed, her body relaxing and drifting back to sleep when another knock caused her to sit up. Oh please. She let out a sigh. Nance said she asked the lady on the phone to let her have privacy, but this wasn’t happening.

She moved, half asleep, off the bed. Her foot caught on the rug, tripping her. Awake and eyes wide, she took a couple of giant steps, regained her balance, grabbed the doorknob, and flung the door open. She looked around, irritated at finding the hall empty. She had the door half closed before the aroma of garlic and herbs drew her attention to the tray sitting on the floor. I know I can’t eat a thing—but the smell is yummy. She picked up the tray then walked back inside, pushing the door shut with her foot.

She sniffed and closed her eyes. Oh, my gosh. Her mouth was watering before she made it halfway across the room. She set the tray on the table, lifted the cover and all thoughts of sleep left her as steam rose from the hot pasta in a red sauce. Real spaghetti.

Kate sat. One bite. She wound a small bundle of spaghetti on her fork and sniffed at it again before putting it in her mouth. That’s all it took. One small bite. My gosh, this is fantastic. She seldom allowed herself more than a few bites of any carbohydrates, but today would be different. No holding her appetite hostage.

Halfway through, she picked up the small glass of yellow liquid and sniffed. The aroma of lemon and alcohol filled her senses. Holding the glass up and eyeing it, she brought it closer and dipped her tongue in the liquid. Anticipating a bitter, burning sting of liquor, she found the sweet lemony flavor a very pleasant surprise. A sip let loose a soft moan of pleasure. Tomorrow, she would find out what this nectar of the gods was called.

She ate over half of the food on her plate before she pushed her tray away and picked up her drink. Kate moved to the upholstered chair in front of the window, sat and pulled her feet under her, sipping the gold drink and watching the sun drop lower in the sky. It was in slow motion—the orange, red, and yellow over the treetops dissolved into deeper blues of dusk. The landscape was filled with dark swaying shadows, but they were a definite comfort. She whispered into the night, This is what the soul needs. With that and her belly full, happy to have dropped from the face of her world, she crawled back under the blankets smiling. For the first time in a long while, the Angel was happy.

2

Kate woke to bright morning sunlight having replaced the peaceful dark. Blinking a few times, she put her hand to her head to block the light streaming in the window. Something, a noise, had shattered the quiet, ripping her out of the arms of a dream lover.

Whispered voices echoed along the hallway. Sh-h-h! You’ll wake her! A heavy Italian accent made her strain to hear more.

Silence. Her eyelids drifted shut again before popping open at a female scolding. She’ll come down when she’s ready.

Someone stomped down the stairs, and the voices faded away.

Kids, she mumbled to herself. I think.

Unable to go back to sleep, she threw the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed. Come on body, don’t fail me. You haven’t been hit by a Mack truck, it just feels that way. Glancing out the window at the beautiful view, she squinted blocking some of the light. Damn, the sun is bright here in Italy.

She dragged