"All of them," he admitted solemnly as he began to lay the strips of bacon in the pan one after another. Turning the flame on under the frying pan, he added, "Of course, there was nothing to do about the reappearance of my physical desire. You were far too young. But food . . ." He shook his head. "Not only did I rediscover my delight in it, but I found I had a great desire to learn to cook the meal you ate that first time. You seemed to enjoy it so, and I wanted to be able to make it for you. So I had our chef teach me how to make it, and found I enjoyed cooking as much as eating."
"So you learned to cook?" she asked, watching him turn the bacon.
"Si. I hired a manager to oversee all the businesses for me and flew to Europe to attend the best culinary schools available. I spent ten years training."
"Ten?" Sarita squawked with surprise as he turned the bacon.
"Si. I had time to fill while I waited for you to grow up," he said with a shrug. "And I wanted to learn it all. I wanted to be able to make anything your heart desired. I wanted to ply you with delicacies no one else could."
"Ten years," she said thoughtfully. "Were you here then the second time we ate at your restaurant? The night before we returned home after Grandfather's funeral?"
"Si. I had returned just three weeks before," Domitian admitted and smiled as he recalled that day. "You cannot imagine how shocked I was when my manager came to tell me someone had asked him to thank the chef for such a lovely meal and I glanced out to see you and your father just making your way to the door to leave my restaurant."
"Your private detective hadn't told you I was here in Venezuela?" Sarita asked a bit archly.
Domitian shook his head. "His report came the day after you left. Which," he added, "was probably a good thing in the end."
"Why was it a good thing?" she asked with amusement.
"Because you were no longer a child," he said wryly. "You were twenty-three, a fully grown woman." He dropped some butter in the empty pan to melt and began cracking eggs into a bowl as he recalled the wash of emotion and desire that had rolled over him at just knowing she was near. "You were leaving, your back was to me, and I could not see your face. For a moment, I just stared at your back, hoping you would turn so that I could see your face. But you did not. Once the door closed behind you I did not think, I just rushed after you. But it was a busy night and there seemed to be a waiter or customer in my way every couple of feet. By the time I got outside you and your father were gone.
"I struggled that night," Domitian admitted solemnly. "When I first found you at thirteen, I had determined I would not claim you until you had worked at your chosen career for at least two years. At the time you returned to my restaurant you had returned to university to get your master's degree in criminology after taking only one year off to work."
"My father had paid my way through university to get my bachelor degree, but I felt I should pay my own way for my master's, so I worked for a year to get the money together and continued to work while getting my master's," Sarita explained softly.
"Si . . ." Domitian nodded as he eased the raw eggs from the bowl onto the second frying pan. Glancing to her then he grinned and said, "You cannot know how sorry I was to learn you had chosen a career that needed such long schooling. Although," Domitian added dryly, casting her the stink eye. "I understand a master's degree is not necessary to become a police officer, so you took longer than absolutely necessary."
Sarita laughed at his expression and shrugged. "I want to be a detective someday. So I went for a master's in criminology with a minor in psychology."
"And then it took forever to get accepted to the police force," he said grimly.
"Yes, there's a pretty lengthy selection process," she admitted. "There are three stages of assessment with tests and whatnot at each stage. It takes a while, and then once you're accepted, you still have to go to the police college for training."
"Si. I know this," Domitian assured her. "I found it out when I learned what you wanted to do. I was trying to judge how long it would be before I could come and woo you," he admitted, and then shook his head. "However, when I saw you that night in my restaurant, my good intentions flew out of the window, and if I had caught up to you, my noble plans would have been meaningless."
"Noble, huh?" Sarita asked with amusement.
Glancing up from the bacon he was turning again, Domitian eyed her seriously. "Believe me, waiting was noble. A sacrifice. I had already waited more than two thousand years to find you when I first saw you. They seemed to me to pass so slowly, but these past fifteen years?" He shook his head. "They seemed longer than the two thousand that came before."