Keira realized now, as she walked, lost in her thoughts, that she and Cristiano were doing just that. They were silent, had been for a long time, hand in hand, and his thumb was gently tracing against the back of her hand, showing physical affection just like his parents would.

They reached the cemetery, which was sloped just like the hillside. Red candles were still burning, and there were chrysanthemums everywhere. They walked through the graves, pausing momentarily to read the headstones. Cristiano introduced her to grandparents, great-grandparents, and distant cousins who’d died decades before he was even born. It was true what he’d said about it being comforting. She knew less about her distant living family than Cristiano did about his ancestors long past. He could live his life in the comfort of knowing his memory would be passed on, that he would be remembered, cherished and celebrated in the memories of his children, and their children, on and on, ad infinitum.

Along the path a little further were the olive groves. They stretched far into the distance. Keira thought it must be stunningly beautiful in the daylight when the vines would be all one could see.

Further along still they came to the orange groves. The air was scented with citrus and Keira felt another one of her senses come alive.

Finally, they reached the vineyards, which were positioned beside a small medieval town.

“There is a very interesting structure through here,” Cristiano said, gesturing along one of the pathways between the vines.

“We can go in?” Keira asked.

Cristiano looked over his shoulder. “I don’t see anyone about,” he said, mischievously. “Do you?”

Keira giggled, caught up in the moment. “Nope.”

He looped his arm through hers and guided her through the vineyards.

“When I was on the plane here,” Keira told him, “I made up a character for myself. I didn’t much feel like talking to the man next to me on the flight so I pretended I was a wine connoisseur.”

Cristiano laughed.

“It gets worse,” Keira added. “I said that my father’s passion was wine, that he’d married in a vineyard, and that I was conceived in one!” She laughed, remembering the act she’d performed.

Cristiano looked at her curiously, laughing too. “You are quite strange, my Keira.”

They reached a crumbling stone structure, an old bolt hole for workers on the vineyards to shield themselves from the heat of the midday sun during their long work days. It looked like it was a thousand years old, the roof having caved in eons hence, leaving just stone beam supports holding up nothing but sky.

“Wow,” Keira murmured.

She walked inside. Moonlight bathed the space in cool blue. The color brought back memories of being in the Blue Grotto with Cristiano, of that kiss that had never happened. She turned to face him now. He looked just as stunning in the pale blue light as he had in the vivid aqua marine of the grotto. He was gazing at her adoringly. Keira’s body felt alive with desire.