When Maggie met Raffaele for breakfast the next morning, the first thing she noticed was that he was dressed more casually than usual. He stood as she walked into the room, and pulled out a chair for her. His fingers lingered on hers as he handed her a cup of coffee.

“I have an engagement this morning,” Raffaele said.

Maggie took a sip of coffee before replying. “No problem. I can wander around town, or I might just hang out here.”

“Actually, I was hoping you might accompany me.”

Maggie looked at him, trying to discern his mood.

“I’d be happy to. Where are we going?”

“A local charity I support is having a special event this morning at one of the schools. I promised the director I would attend.”

“Of course! That sounds like fun.” Maggie looked down at her dark slacks and simple blue sweater. “Do I need to change?”

Raffaele shook his head. “You look perfect.”

Maggie was pleased that Raffaele wanted her to be involved in his everyday activities.

“So, there will be kids there?”

“Yes. The students are—well, in America they would be in middle school. This program teaches them about eating healthy foods.” Raffaele grinned at her apprehensive look. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of kids.”

Maggie poked at him and he caught her hand so that he could drop a quick kiss on her fingers. Shaking her head, she took her hand back and picked up her coffee cup again.

“I like kids. I just haven’t spent a lot of time around them. But we do this thing at the restaurant where we invite local high school kids in to get an idea of what working in the restaurant business is really like. That’s actually how Brian came to work for us.”

“The server who waited on my table at BienVille?” he asked, and Maggie nodded. “So, he wants to learn to cook?”

“He’s pretty good at it already. He wants to learn the business, so he started working at the restaurant after graduation. He’s in his sophomore year of college now and I swear, he’s going to have a food empire before he’s thirty.”

Raffaele looked thoughtful. “Is it just BienVille, or do other restaurants do the same thing?”

“It’s a city-wide program, a partnership between the city’s restaurant association and the school system.”

Maggie studied him. She was learning that this thoughtful look meant the wheels in Raffaele’s head were turning. In spite of what his parents thought, he really did have a focused mind and a way of looking at things that created solutions.

“It’s a great program. I can put you in touch with the director if you’d like to talk to him about doing something similar here.”

Raffaele smiled at her like she’d just offered him the sun and the moon.

“Yes, please.” He leaned forward. “And with the understanding that there’s no pressure on you at all to say yes, would you like to talk with the students while we’re there? Maybe about how you work with local farmers to bring food to your restaurant, and why that’s important to you?”

“I’d love that. If you’re sure they won’t mind?”

“I think they’ll be delighted I’m bringing a chef of your caliber to talk with the students.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure—she sometimes still felt like a kid still just starting out in culinary school—but then she thought about how that was something she could use to relate with the students.

She and Raffaele spent the rest of breakfast talking about how difficult it was to find enough people to staff restaurants and the differences between what people thought being a chef meant and what the job actually was like. Maggie loved talking with Raffaele. He understood her life and shared her passion; she felt like she could tell him anything.

As they drove to the school, Maggie stared out the window. The landscape was so beautiful, and she wished she had more time to learn more about the tiny island nation. She missed BienVille, but she was surprised by how much she wanted to stay.

Maggie turned to watch Raffaele drive, and he gave her a quick grin before looking back at the road. She sighed silently. It wasn’t the island that made her want to stay. She wanted more time with Raffaele. If only she could figure out a way to be in two places at once.

At the school, Maggie was surprised at the low-key greeting Raffaele received. The school’s principal and the head of the charity Raffaele supported met them just inside the school doors, and after the Prince introduced Maggie, they led the way to the school’s cafeteria.

He noticed her puzzlement and said quietly, “For fundraisers and the like, I make a public entrance. But since today is about the students, I’d rather the paparazzi weren’t here. The school isn’t set up to handle them, and the kids don’t need that kind of attention.”

But a low-key entrance was definitely not on the agenda when they entered the cafeteria where the school’s students were gathered waiting.

Immediately, one of them called out, “Hey, it’s Prince Raffaele!”

Suddenly, Maggie found their little group swarmed with excited pre-teens chattering to their prince.

“Happy birthday!” one of the called, while another said, “Hey, Your Highness, are you going to work with us in the garden today?”

That question caused Maggie to arch an eyebrow at Raffaele, who just laughed.

“Not today, my friend. We are going to be talking about farming.”

“Because that’s where we get our food!” another boy called from the back of the room.

Raffaele laughed. “Yes, and farms are where good restaurants get their food, too.” He looked around the room. “How many of you think it would be cool to be a chef?”

Several hands went up and Raffaele nodded.

“Me, too. And it just so happens that I have a friend with me today who is a fantastic chef. She has her own restaurant and she’s here today to talk with you about where the food she cooks comes from.”

Raffaele gestured to the kids to sit down, and then turned to Maggie. He winked at her where the kids couldn’t see.

“Ready?” he asked, and Maggie nodded. Raffaele turned back to the students. “This is Chef Maggie Bechet, from New Orleans, Louisiana, which is, of course, in…” he trailed off in a question, looking expectantly at the students.

One of the girls raised her hand and the Prince pointed at her.

“America!” she said.

Raffaele clapped his hands. “Yes! New Orleans is one of America’s historic cities, and Chef Bechet’s restaurant is one of the best in the country.”

He waved her up with a flourish and Maggie stood in front of the students, trying to hide her blush.

“Chef Bechet, thank you for being with us today.”

Maggie nodded at him graciously. “Thank you, Prince Raffaele, for inviting me to speak.”

Raffaele stepped back and Maggie looked at the students.

“Now, this is my first visit to your country, and so I’m learning all the different kinds of food you have here. So far, my favorite Spiaggian food is honey rings,” she said like she was telling the kids a secret.

Several of the kids laughed and nodded.

“But I guess I can’t live on dessert alone. So, help me figure out what else I should try while I’m here. What are your favorite things to eat?”

The kids shouted out dishes, and Maggie made a show of asking Raffaele to take notes for her, which made the kids laugh even more.

“I can’t wait to try all of those things! And maybe,” she added as if musing on the idea, “I’ll add some of them to my menu back home. But I’ll have to ask my suppliers if they can get me all the right ingredients first.”

She went on to talk about how important farmers were to her business and how eating healthy meant eating close to the land, or the water. At the end of her talk, she answered questions from the students, everything from how she became a chef to how she met the Prince.

Maggie laughed at that one and glanced back at Raffaele.

“He came to eat in my restaurant.” She winked at the kids. “I guess I must have cooked really well that night.”

After the session, a few of the students took Maggie and the Prince on a tour of the school’s garden while the rest of the students returned to class. Later, she and Raffaele ate lunch with a group of younger students who hadn’t been in the cafeteria earlier.

Maggie watched Raffaele gently tease the young girl sitting next to him about her reaction to the vegetables served with the meal, making her giggle when he acted like he was going to steal one of her carrots. He talked with all of the students at the table, making each of them feel special.

And after he cleaned his plate, he politely asked the school’s head cook, who was sitting at his table, if he could be excused. The cook raised an eyebrow. Raffaele waved a hand at his plate, to show he had eaten all his vegetables, and the cook, catching on that the Prince was trying to set a good example, studied his plate for a long moment before slowly nodding her permission.

Watching him, Maggie understood his parents’ frustration with Raffaele not wanting to make his charity work public. The sight of the Prince sitting at a cafeteria table talking with children would make for wonderful publicity. But Maggie loved the fact that Raffaele cared more about the actual work.

Maggie also couldn’t help but see how good he was with children. She toyed with a carrot on her plate and daydreamed about what a long-term future with Raffaele would be like.

They still had so much to work out, but sitting there watching her prince, Maggie was certain of one thing: she wanted a future with him.