KISS ME

EPILOGUE

Camila didn't even care that the paparazzi were running alongside the Canal taking photos of them as they snuggled in the Gondola. So far they had taken photos of them strolling under the Eiffel Tower, walking the streets of Cesky Krumlov just outside Prague, drinking beer in Munich and coming out of the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. Wherever they went on the promo tour, Cinderella and her Prince Charming were the centre of attention. But she only had eyes for Shawn and he for her. After the accident in the cave, nobody was game to call their romance a PR stunt, and they had gotten used to the exposure. They had learned what was important and they let the rest of it go.

They got off the Gondola and stopped for coffee. The paps took some photos and then drifted away. Angelina Jolie and a few of her kids were supposedly standing on the Rialto bridge, so they had bigger fish to fry. Seemed they weren't even the biggest stars visiting Venice. Shawn hailed a water taxi back to their hotel, it slid into the dock and they alighted, going straight up to their room before anyone else with a camera appeared.

"What time is the premiere tomorrow night?" Camila asked as they entered their room.

"Seven pm, but we have interviews pretty much all day, and a photo shoot in there somewhere too."

He walked over to the rack of clothes against the wall. "Is this what you're wearing? He pulled out a sparkly yellow dress with two thigh high splits.

"Put it back. Maybe, I haven't decided."

"I like it," he said.

"You like anything," she muttered. He was hopeless to ask for an unbiased opinion.

"I do if you're wearing it. Anyway I have a criteria for what makes the dress a winner."

"Go on," she said with a smile. This would be good.

"Well it has to be easy to take off."

"I see, and?"

"That's all really." He approached her. She was wearing a blue wraparound maxi dress and sandals.

"Like this, for instance, this is an absolute winner, I love this one." He pulled the tie at her waist and the whole thing opened up like she was a flower. Underneath she wore white matching bra and panties. He whistled, and she laughed, batting at him.

"Stop it, you idiot."

"No, honestly, you look......wow!"

She let the dress fall off her shoulders and pool on the ground at her feet. Kicking off her sandals, she stepped out of it and walked towards him. He was quiet and still, watching her, but she could tell what he was feeling by the pulse throbbing in his neck. She would never get over the fact that she could affect him like this, not that he didn't have his own superpowers. She undid his shirt buttons and pushed it off his shoulders, revealing his impressive chest and abs, his shoulders and arms. Who needed lacy underwear when you had muscles like that?

"How long until dinner?" she asked, unbuckling his belt.

"As long as we want, it's just us tonight." He croaked.

"Have you booked anywhere?" she threw the belt on the floor.

"Yes, James recommended it." He named a famous Michelin Star restaurant on the Piazza San Marco. Camila stared at him.

"You have a reservation? What time?"

"Seven, but we can just stay here and get room service...." He reached for her waist.

"No way, Canada, I'm not missing out on that! Get your going out clothes on dude, come on!"

He moaned and laughed. "It's only five o'clock baby, it won't take that long to get ready and make it to the restaurant."