Amalfi, 1954
“Ready to get underway?” Celina stepped onto Lauro’s sleek Italian yacht, thrilled at the journey ahead of them. Adele had helped her choose her outfit—a white strapless bandeau-top and shorts with a zebra-print swim cover-up. After depositing their favorite wine in the galley and dropping a shopping bag with new lingerie in the cabin, she joined Lauro on the bridge.
“I’ve been ready for this for months,” Lauro said, kissing her. Positioned at the helm, he eased his new yacht from its mooring and slowly motored out of the Amalfi marina. He’d even christened the yacht after her: La Dolce Celina.
She secured her broad-brimmed hat and tipped her head back, gazing up at the clear summer sky and the mountains that climbed high above the village of Amalfi. She couldn’t imagine a better day to begin their holiday—exploring the coastline of the Sorrento peninsula and the islands in the Tyrrhenian Sea. Later, they planned to venture farther to the south of France, Monaco, and the Greek islands, but first Lauro wanted to share the spectacular beauty of his home.
As Celina slipped off her cover-up, Lauro ran his hand over her bare shoulders. “You look stunning, Signora Savoia. Hmm, C.S. You don’t even have to change your monograms, do you?”
“I can hardly believe we’re finally married.” She threaded her arms around him while he maneuvered the craft.
Feathering a kiss on her lips, he said, “What a year it has been.”
“One year ago today, we met in Naples,” Celina said, resting her head on his shoulder and thinking about the year that changed their lives. “As I recall, that wasn’t a very friendly welcome.”
“How about I try to make it up to you again tonight?”
Celina nibbled his earlobe. “I wish you would.”
“Or we could drop anchor in our magical hideaway.”
Just the thought of that day, the first time they’d made love, brought a flush to her face. That surreal, watercolor memory—the expression of their love—had sustained her through nearly overwhelming challenges. “Mmm, I love that cove.”
Just last week they married in the Duomo, the beautiful Sant’Andrea cathedral in Amalfi, in an intimate ceremony. Under soaring arches of a frescoed, gold-trimmed ceiling and surrounded by ornate, inlaid marble columns, Celina and Lauro exchanged their vows. She couldn’t have been happier.
Celina wore Sara’s wedding dress of ivory silk and lace, which Adele helped to fit to her. Joining them were Sara and Carmine, Adele and Werner and their children, and Nino, along with some of the extended Savoia family. Even Marge and Lizzie came for the wedding, much to Marco’s delight. A baronial spread of delicacies, from the bounty of Campania and fresh seafood to chocolate fantasies that Celina had created especially for the party—including truffles flavored with wine from the vineyards above Amalfi—delighted their guests at the Villa Savoia. At sunrise, Celina and Lauro stood at the stone terrace, welcoming the dawn of their new life together.
Sara and Carmine had promised to look after Marco while they were gone. Thinking about them, Celina smiled and wondered what they were doing right now.
“We have three glorious weeks away,” she said, reflecting on their journey with their family and friends.
After returning from Peru, Adele had been so astounded to see Nino again and hear the story of their connection that she rushed right over to see Celina. They renewed their friendship, and since then, their children played together often.
Lauro draped his arm around her and kissed the tip of her nose. “Where do you want to go first? Positano, Capri, Sorrento, Procida, Ischia. Your choice.”
The yacht picked up speed, and Celina faced the salty spray, loving the sense of freedom in being on the ocean.
When she didn’t answer, Lauro went on. “Or we can hike the Sentiero degli Dei, visit Pompeii or Ravello’s gardens, or warm our toes in the hot spring at Baia di Sorgeto. Then there’s Praiano, Conca dei Marini, Castiglione, Maiori, and Salerno.”
“Too much, too much.” Laughing, Celina placed her finger on Lauro’s lips. “How about lunch in Positano before heading to Capri. From there, who knows?” For the next few weeks, she wanted as few plans as possible.
“That’s a great idea.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to explore,” she said. “Years, I hope.” Here along the Amalfi coast, she had learned to enjoy the small moments. Walking Marco to school. Playing on the beach with him and his cousins. A glass of wine with Lauro in the evening. A new truffle flavor. And now, waking with Lauro in the morning. Compared to San Francisco, life on the Sorrento peninsula moved at a leisurely pace.
“Positano it is,” he said. “What else would you like to do there?”
“Anything, except hike a mountain.” She laughed and flung her arms overhead, stretching toward the sky and feeling free. “Though I miss that little tent we had in Marañón Canyon. Someday I’ll muck through mud with you again. For now, I want lots of late mornings, breakfast in bed, and sandy beaches.”
“Massages?”
“Mmm, by you? My favorite.”
“Mine, too.” Lauro grinned at her. “I’ve been thinking, Capri might be a good place for a cioccolateria.”
“For Stella di Cioccolato or Cioccolata Savoia?”
“We’re strictly wholesale—definitely Stella di Cioccolato.”
“Interesting,” she said. “Maybe after I open my shop in Naples.”
When they returned from their holiday, they were moving into a home in Vomero to be near the fabbrica di cioccolato for Lauro. Marco had more cousins his age nearby, so he was thrilled with the move. They would continue to spend holidays and the month of August in Amalfi with his parents at the Villa Savoia. After all that she and Lauro had been through, Celina loved how their life was working out.
“Adele’s friend, the journalist, wrote such a glowing review of your cioccolateria in the newspaper,” Lauro said. “I think you’ll do well in Napoli.”
Celina wrinkled her nose. “You don’t mind sleeping with the competition?”
“I don’t even mind fooling around in the test kitchen.” He cupped her bottom and drew her closer to him. “Maybe we’ll drop anchor and go below.”
Laughing, Celina kissed him. “We’re only a few minutes out of Amalfi.”
As for Stella di Cioccolato, Celina had built up a devoted clientele. Her overseas orders were growing. I. Magnin had sold out of the inventory she’d sent. Based on her success there, she’d contacted buyers from City of Paris in San Francisco, Gimbels in New York, and Harrod’s in London. Orders poured in, and it was all she could do to keep up with the business. Karin was working out well, so Celina had trained her to manage the shop in Amalfi. Soon it would be time to increase their artisanal production in a larger facility in Naples.
Celina loved experimenting with new flavors and expanding Stella di Cioccolato. She’d created a spicy chocolate truffle with mild chili peppers and white truffles made from cocoa butter and lemon. But the secret of the gran blanco—the rare white beans—would remain a secret of the Andean people until they wished to share it with the world again.
“Nino called this morning,” Lauro said, the sun glinting off his sunglasses.
“Good news?” Celina loved the close relationship that Lauro and Nino shared. Not only brothers, but also the closest of friends. They had finally made peace with their past.
“He’s starting his lab research next week.”
Celina hooked her arm into Lauro’s. He stroked her bare arm, which sent tingles through her. She was happy for Nino, who was getting another chance at his dream. He had been accepted to medical school in Rome to complete the study he had started in America before enlisting. As part of his program, he would conduct research on traditional herbal treatments of the Andes and other cultures.
She tented her hand against the sun. “Think Nino will stay in Italy after medical school?”
“He’ll go where he feels needed.” Lauro kissed her cheek. “Luckily, I feel needed right here.”
“So do I, my love.”
The salt air breeze tousled their hair as they cruised along the soaring cliffs, admiring the view and enjoying their time together. This was all that Celina had ever dreamed of. To feel at home, to love and to be loved. Had she not made one phone call, none of this would have happened.
As they neared the location of the cove, Celina and Lauro turned to each other and grinned. The memory of their magical cove sent delicious tingles through her. Why pass up such a lovely respite?
“Let’s go,” she whispered.
“Quanto ti amo,” he said, laughing and kissing her. “Andiamo.”
The End
Note from Jan Moran: Thank you for reading The Chocolatier, and I hope you enjoyed it. My next historical novel is Hepburn’s Necklace, which is set in beautiful Lake Como, Italy. Find out what happens when a costume designer discovers a necklace that Audrey Hepburn gave her great-aunt—and the long-buried secret its discovery reveals.
If you love stories set by the sea, I also invite you to visit the seaside village of Summer Beach, where a recently widowed artist and her sister renovate a historic home and uncover a wealth of hidden secrets in Seabreeze Inn. This contemporary beach series is such a pleasure to share.
And if you like reading series, you might enjoy my Love California collection of linked, standalone books, beginning with Flawless. Meet a group of devoted friends and their romantic interests, who start their adventures with a trip to Paris, France. My love of travel inspired these stores, so get your literary passport ready.
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