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“Shall we?” I repeated his words.
Jumping in the car, Roarke guided us down main streets and through back roads for the rest of the day, stopping whenever I wanted to take in the scenery. Our last break involved a picnic lunch in the middle of a field, including a visit from a curious cow.
“This has been fantastic.” I lifted my glass of Chianti. “Salute.”
“Salute,” Roarke answered, tipping his glass toward mine. With a wave of his hand, the field transformed, taking my breath away.
A circle of meadow and blooming wildflowers surrounded us, instantly reminding me of a scene from a movie. Lying back, I basked in the Tuscan sun, smiling like a fool. “This is beautiful too.” My eyes met his as he lay down beside me.
“I thought we could rest here for a bit before heading back to the villa for dinner.”
I leaned up on my elbow. “That sounds lovely. But is there something at the villa we need to do?”
“No. I just thought with this being your first planned trip, you’d want to make the most of it.” He plucked a viola from the grass between us and tucked it behind my ear.
Lying back, I folded my hands atop my stomach and stared at the puffy white clouds above me. I’d never felt like this before. So free. So… wild. Without thinking, I reached out my hand and found his waiting beside me. A slow grin overtook my lips, but I kept my eyes locked on the sky.
Time seemed to move differently in the dreamscape. We lay in the meadow, talking, laughing, and holding hands, for what felt like only a few minutes. But in reality, hours had passed.
“Are you ready for dinner?” Roarke asked.
“Yes. And you said we’d be dining back at the villa, right?”
“That’s right. Unless there’s somewhere else you’d like to go.” Roarke pulled me upright, and the meadow disappeared, replaced by the original field. Cows meandered in the distance, and the little red corvette still sat beside the road.
“No. This day has been perfect, and I’d love to finish it with dinner there.” I straightened my dress and slipped back into my oat-colored flats as bells rang in the distance, pulling my eyes toward the sky.
“It’s time to head back.” Roarke took my hand and led me to the car, opening my door like a perfect gentleman.
“Where are those bells coming from?” I asked.
Roarke’s eyes drifted to the city below. “Do you know most modern clocks run on French time?”
I shook my head, not clear where this conversation was going.
“There’s only one clock in the world that runs on Italian time, and it’s in the Duomo right down there.” He pointed down the hill to the heart of Florence.
“Wow. That’s… interesting.” I climbed into the passenger seat as the engine roared to life.
“It is actually. The clock has a spiral of Roman numerals on it that run backward, or counterclockwise, ending at the bottom with the number twenty-four.”
“Really?” I was intrigued. “So midnight is marked at the bottom of the clock instead of the top?”
“No. That’s what’s so unique. The hand moves in reverse like a shadow of a sundial, counting down the hours of the day. Twenty-four marks the hour when the sun sets, not midnight.”
I peered past Roarke’s shoulder, looking down at the city, and imagined the clock sitting in the cathedral far below.
“Its purpose was to warn the farmers and workers of the 1400s to end their day and get back inside the walls of the city before the gates closed. They still adjust it today, resetting it each week so the hour of sunset is correct throughout the year.” Roarke concluded as we pulled up to the villa.
I sat still, staring at this man and wondering what other mysteries he’d learned throughout his life. “How old are you, Roarke?” The question slid off my tongue before I could stop it.
“To your eyes, twenty-three.”
I let his words sink in, noticing the twitch in his jaw. “But you weren’t the Weaver during the time of the pharaohs, right?” I teased, remembering what he’d mentioned when we were back in Egypt.
“That’s right.” Stepping around the car, he opened my door and offered his hand. “Shall we? Dinner awaits.”
And just like that, time moved on.
