The sound of paddles slapping the water plays on repeat in the background so perfectly that it’s calming. Water sloshes around us, drumming against the small vessel as we float farther down the canal.

The way Nicole’s eyes had lit up when she saw the gondola, I knew we had to go for a ride.

Judging by the smile now imprinted on her face, I’d say it was a good call.

“This is amazing,” she says, eyes honing in on mine. “Thank you.”

“I said I’d show you Venice,” I reply, gesturing around us with one arm. “What do you think?”

“It’s gorgeous.”

Her eyes take on a hazy look as they scan our surroundings with wonder.

My own can’t get enough of her, all of her. I love the way those pants hug her long slim legs and her top clings tightly to her. The scarf around her neck blowing behind her in the breeze adds perfection to the picture.

Like the gondola, I knew when she saw the scarf that I had to give it to her. It’s the softest silk money can buy, in colors that seem to make her flawless skin glow.

She had balked at the price at first, insisting that it was too much.

Instead of arguing with her, I simply acted. Life was like that for me. No arguments or debates.

I like to take action. And buying the scarf for her was me doing just that.

The thrill I got when I wrapped it around her slim neck, fingers brushing lightly at her skin, was well worth it.

She notices me staring, turning back to me in question.

“The scarf really looks great,” I say, not wanting to overwhelm her with my real thoughts—that she’s the single most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Thank you.”

The way one side of her mouth twitches as she says it makes me feel like she’s looking through me, knowing without question what’s really going on in my head.

Part of me hopes she is. It would certainly make this a lot easier for me.

She continues to look around in awe, her eyes frantically jumping around, not wanting to miss a single thing.

“Dante, look over there.” Her fingers point to her right. “Oh, you missed it.”

There are many of those moments, and it’s hard to keep up with her.

I do try to mimic her, repeatedly forcing my eyes to stray to the scenery.

Without fail, though, they’re pulled back to her.

She suddenly sits up straighter, her eyes locking on to something to the side of the boat.

“Oh my god,” she says, leaning farther toward the edge.

“What is it?”

“It’s…a bird. Oh no!”

I follow her gaze, finding the source of her concern. Just a few feet away, a baby bird flaps feebly on the water, its feathers drenched. Small squeaks spill from its mouth—so quiet I wouldn’t have noticed if I weren’t listening for it.

“It’s still alive!” she calls, now half standing in order to lean over the side.

“Nicole,” I say in warning, “be careful.”

She waves my concern away with the flick of one hand, her attention fully focused on the drowning animal.

“Really—” I begin, just as she leans closer to the water.

Her feet fly out from beneath her, sliding easily on the dampened wood of the gondola. I see her arm wave wildly, trying and failing to reestablish balance as a small shout escapes her mouth.

I lean forward quickly, grabbing her wrist a second before her head meets the water. With a swift yank, I pull her firmly back into the boat.

She looks at me in surprise, some part of her clearly confused as to how she’s not currently bobbing in the canal.

“I said to be careful,” I chide, my laughter breaking through the words.

“Right. Sorry.”

She doesn’t even look at me. Her eyes rove quickly back to the bird. She reaches, apparently about to give it another go.

“Nicole, really.” I laugh. “Let me, alright?”

She nods, eyes still fixed on the water.

I move to the side, my arms easily reaching the struggling creature. I scoop him gently from the water only moments before our boat passes him.

He lets out another squeak, a slightly more vigorous one now that he’s back on something solid.

“It’s a pigeon,” I say, passing it gently to Nicole.

She lets out a small ‘Aww’ of delight, her finger reaching out to run down his back.

“You know there are like…a million of those here, right?”

“Yes… but this one was drowning.”

I open my mouth to retort, but I find I have nothing to say.

Hard to argue with the facts.

I resist telling her that some consider these animals pests and would do anything to minimize the pigeon population. I’m sure she’d have a retort ready for me.

“Thank you for getting him,” she says, leaning toward me.

Her lips brush against mine in gratitude so quickly it’s hardly even fair to call it a kiss. It was there, then gone in a minute.

Still, even the brief contact sends a jolt of energy rushing through me. My heart beats faster, air suddenly seeming to thin around us.

From the widening of her eyes, I know that the feeling is mutual.

It’s all the confirmation I need to know that it’s not just me here. She feels it, too. However reluctant she might be to admit it, this thing between us is powerful.

I resist the urge to kiss her again, staying firmly planted in my seat instead.

There’s no hurry here—no rush.

We clearly have something, and I have an inkling that it won’t just disappear with time.

A small smile tugs at her lips as she settles back into her seat, unwrapping the scarf from her neck.

With one hand, she slides the silk from her neck and lays it across her knees. She smooths it down before settling the small creature on it.

“There you go,” she murmurs, wrapping the scarf loosely around the sopping animal. “That should warm you up.”

I watch her in amazement, my breath catching in my throat as I take this new image in. She holds the pigeon so carefully. Her fingers gently rub at the fabric between them, trying to dry his delicate feathers.

From the back of her throat, small humming sounds spill from her, soothing and calming.

In a way, I think it’s funny. The amount of effort and care she’s willing to put forth, for a pigeon of all things.

Mostly, though, I’m completely in awe of her.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off her and the bird...and I don’t want to.

Never in my life have I met anyone quite as caring as the woman before me.

Shallow, judgmental, vain—I’ve met those women, dated a lot of them, too. This, however, is a whole new ball game.

My heart swells at the sight.

I realize that this is why Nicole has such a strong effect on me.

She’s beautiful, sure. Smart and talented as well. But that isn’t why I’m drawn so powerfully to her.

The real reason is on display right in front of me. Her kindness, her compassion. Her ability to care so deeply for things other than herself.

Those are the real reasons why I can’t seem to help myself around her.

The real reasons why I’m so madly in love with her.