He touched her cheek tenderly, alighting her passion even more. Keira remembered how she’d missed out before on connecting with him while in the Blue Grotto. Not this time. She was not prepared to let any moments slip away from her again.

They kissed, deeply, powerfully, the sensation more intense than it had been between them before. Keira felt her body yielding to Cristiano, to the sensation and romance.

She pulled back from him, and with her eyes locked on his, moved her hands to the hem of her shirt. She pulled it up over her head and stood before him, half dressed. Cristiano needed no further prompting. He understood her message and intentions clearly.

Keira’s heart soared as he swept her up in his arms, pressing her as close to him as possible, before laying her against the cool stone of the ancient structure, kissing every inch of her flesh. He drew back and she gazed up at him with adoration. He removed his own shirt, showing his muscular physique and gorgeous olive skin. She bit her lip with excitement and anticipation, more willing than she’d ever been in her life to unite her body with another’s.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

If there was ever any doubt that Italy is the most romantic country in the world, then perhaps the fact that they have turned the least pleasant part of life (that is, death) into a beautiful, joyous celebration will convince you. I’m lucky and honored enough to spend All Souls’ Day in the countryside of Florence with a real Italian family (my lover, Cristiano’s, to be precise). Here, I sample traditional fire-roasted chestnuts and watch processions of people heading to graveyards carrying bouquets of chrysanthemums and flaming torches. Death, for the Italians, seems to be a continuation of life, the next step in eternal love. Cristiano tells me he takes great comfort in knowing that his spirit will never be forgotten after he is no longer walking the earth. In turn, he knows the names and narratives of ancestors he’s never met, but whom he shares a connection with through blood and flesh. I cannot think of anything more romantic.

Keira paused and peered out the window, at the bright, clear Florence countryside. In the bed behind her, Cristiano slept soundly, the covers messed up all around him. He looked gorgeous while sleeping, she’d discovered over the last few days they’d been staying at his family’s villa. But then again, he looked gorgeous always.

Keira let him lie in, using the respite to get on with her work. Today they would be leaving Florence—and Cristiano’s welcoming, accommodating family—and heading to Verona on Cristiano’s Vespa, so Keira wasn’t sure when she’d get another block of time to work. The slow days in Florence had been a blessing, and she felt she’d done her best writing. Although maybe that was something to do with being reunited with her muse, and allowing herself to fall in love with him.

She’d finally been able to let loose and inject herself into the piece. She hadn’t heard back from Viatorum yet but she hoped they’d be impressed. She was certainly proud of herself, and she could fully see where Elliot was coming from. Now that she’d put a personal spin on the assignment it was much stronger. She really was owning the persona of the Romance Guru, a persona she did not have to fake.