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“Good luck.” He winked and slapped my bottom as I headed out the door.

I raced through the marble halls of the villa past the kitchen where Levi had made me midnight pancakes and out to the terrace where Signore Visconti was reading the paper behind a dark pair of sunglasses. His white hair (or what remained of it) was smoothed back from his tan forehead and he wore an elegant gray suit. I was suddenly self-conscious of my own appearance, and smoothed back the frizzy bits of hair that had escaped my impromptu updo.

“Diana!” He stood, grasping my upper arms as he kissed my cheeks. “Sono così felice di avere l’opportunità di parlare con te. Ma forse preferisci parlare in inglese?”

“Yes, I am more comfortable speaking in English,” I explained in Italian.

“My good friend Reginald has told me only positive things about you.” He smiled, sitting back on the paisley cushions of the wrought-iron garden chair. I settled into the seat next to him as he gestured at the man lingering in the doorway to bring another caffè.

“He has?” Did that mean Professor Harris hadn’t led with my embarrassing hubris at thinking I had discovered something that might alter Etruscology as we knew it?

“Of course! He goes on and on about what potential you have!” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I was dumbfounded. “But I would also like to hear from you. Tell me about this theory you have.”

“I don’t know that it’s a very complete theory, but I was inspired by a paper written many years ago that theorizes an Etruscan settlement in Greece.”

“I have read this paper, but it was denounced by most scholars.”

“Yes, but there may be some truth in it.” Shaking off my self-doubt, I told him about my own theory—from my first visit to the Tomb of the Lost Star, to my discovery of the book in the used bookshop with the photo of the bucchero with an eerily familiar scene depicted on it, to my belief that a community of Catha’s acolytes had established a settlement on a remote Greek island. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but I still think I’m on to something. I’d like to continue my research on the subject, maybe get some funding for travel.”

Throughout my story he’d listened, not like he was humoring me, but like he was genuinely fascinated.

“I admire your moxie. That’s exactly what you need in this field.” He leaned closer. “Normally, I am not at liberty to divulge this information without the fellowship committee, but we would like to give you one of the spots next year. It would mean some teaching in Rome.”

I couldn’t breathe. Was this really happening? I gripped the edge of my chair because I felt like I might blast off it like a rocket. “I . . . I would be honored.”

“Excellent! The award will be announced in December for next year. So—” He pressed his finger to his lip. “No talking yet, eh?” He stood. “Now, I’m afraid I must be getting back to my other guests. Will you and your fiancé join us for brunch before you leave?”

“Yes, although I’m so excited I’m not sure I can eat anything!” I stood and embraced him and he chuckled.

As I watched him walk away, I held my hand over my thumping heart. I knew this weekend would change everything! And I’d been right.

I raced back upstairs, burst through the door, surprising Levi who was packing his suitcase on the bed.

“Well?” he asked. “How’d it go?”

With a banshee cry I hurled myself at him, jumping up into his arms with such force it pushed him back onto the bed. His deep laugh vibrated through both of us. “That well, huh?”

I sat up straddling him. “I got the fellowship. They’re announcing it in December. Can you believe it?”

“Yes, I can believe it. I always knew they were going to give you that fellowship. You’re brilliant.” He set his hands around my waist and I leaned over him, brushing a kiss against his lips. He tugged my hair free so it draped over us both, his fingers threading through the loose strands. I could feel him getting hard beneath me and I teasingly wiggled on him.

“Hey, don’t go getting any ideas, mister,” I warned.

“Can’t help it. Your good news turns me on. Thought you might want to celebrate,” he murmured against my throat, nipping at it slightly. And a shiver ran through me—a long line of erotic energy stretching from my pulse point to my nipples and into my core.

“As tempting as that is, I’d prefer to celebrate at your place.”

“Yeah?” There was a slight hesitation in his voice, which was just enough to set me on edge. Did this end here? Was he already regretting it?

“What’s wrong?”

“Just trying to remember if I left any dirty clothes strewn about the place.”

“Please, you’ve always been a neat freak.”

He placed his hands on my waist. “These days, not so much.”

That simple reminder of what he was going through made me even more determined to get him to open up to me. “Well, I don’t mind.”