She was a redhead, with an attractive face, that was worth a second look. Out on the town, she was dressed to turn heads in a metallic gold dress cut low to give a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. It ended at her thighs, displaying shapely long legs.

She turned my head and I definitely gave her a second look, wolf whistling appreciatively. I earned a smile from the redhead and a light slap from my wife.

"You lecherous dog!" accused Phoebe.

"The day we stop looking is the day we die," I replied evenly, "Anyway, you were eyeing up the glutes on that bodybuilder type."

"You caught me," grinned Pheebs. "Guess we're even."

We walked in silence for a few moments. "Phoebe," I began. "You don't mind me looking, do you?"

"No!" she replied honestly. "Because I know two things. One: You always compare them to me and they always lose. Two: You may look at countless women but there's only one woman you'll lay with. Me."

"And you always will be."

"I know," she said fiercely, fire dancing in her dark eyes. Her arms reached around my neck, and she pulled my face towards her own. Her lips crushed mine as she kissed me heatedly, passionately.

Enfolding my arms around her body, I pulled Phoebe closer to me. Then lifting her off the ground, cradling my wife in my arms, I deepened the kiss. Finally, reluctantly I released my hold and broke off the embrace.

"That was fun. But we've got a restaurant to get to." Seeing Phoebe's disappointed expression, I added, "It's Italian, your favourite."

"I don't want to eat pasta," she whined. "I want to eat you."

"But my publisher is meeting us."

"Tell him you… got a migraine," smiled Pheebs impishly. Seeing my still undecided face, Pheebs kissed me gently on the nape of my neck, sending an ecstatic shiver through me.

"You'll pay for that," I promised. Immediately making good my threat I tickled a certain spot near the small of Pheebs' back, forcing a soft whimper of pleasure from my wife.

The restaurant was forgotten. Taking a quick glance to check no one was watching, I banished us both.

Venice was wonderful, especially the canal at sunset. The genuine Italian restaurant served food that was nothing short of perfection. But that had come afterwards.

Holding hands across a candlelit table looking out on St. Marks Square, I whispered, "I love you Phoebe Marie Newland."

"I love you Liam Paul Newland."

"Sometimes I think this is all a dream." I told my darling wife. "That I'll wake up and all this will end."

"It's not a dream, but it will end," said Phoebe seriously. I frowned. Phoebe smiled. "The day our love ends is the day we die."