"Stai zitto, sei pazzo! Ro..." Shut up, you're crazy--and then she was moving towards him, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his chest. "You're crazy...you're...oh God...you're here."

She had been wrong about him not coming, not caring and now nothing else mattered. Not the cat calls and the approving nods and applause from the men and passersby watching her cling to the tall Irishman, not any of her reasons for leaving him in the first place. The only thing that mattered was Rory standing there with her in Venice.

How she loved him, adored him and wanted him. Needed him. Feelings washed over her as she held tightly to waist, inhaled the warm, fresh scent of him and she tried to find some way to tell him everything all at once. Pippa couldn't so she settled for pressing a kiss to the middle of his chest. "Oh, Ro."

"re Russo, si?" One of the gaffers asked and Pippa lifted her head and nodded, grinning through tears. "Si, si...re Russo."

And she too, pressed a hand to Rory's chest as she spoke the words, not that she offered any explanation for the words or actions. "Si." Pippa looked up at him again, this time reaching to run her fingertips along the contours of his face. "I know you, I know you so well...this beautiful face."