I Hate You, Serkan Bolat!

Eda

        I know his type – rich, powerful, arrogant, infuriatingly handsome, charismatic, and accustomed to getting his way. He probably has a stressed out, on-call around the clock, personal assistant at his beck and call. I've seen a couple of pictures of him in a business magazine a few months back, but I don't ever recall him being this attractive. Not that I have a preconceived idea of what a successful, world renowned architect should look like, but this man can most definitely grace the cover of a GQ magazine!

        Judging from the way his expensive suit molds perfectly to his body, I have no doubt that he's in tiptop condition. Men like him are all the same - a staple diet consists of all-green protein smoothies, low carb and high protein meals would be a requirement, to maintain such a physique. I have him pegged, he may be all of that but he's not someone I would ever be attracted to. He's the kind of man I wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Or so I thought.

Serkan

       I'd have to be blind to not notice that she's attractive. If I were to be completely honest, I find her sexy as hell. For some strange reason, everything about her strikes my fancy, even her smart mouth. She's gorgeous, feisty, sassy, indignant and she'll give me a run for my money, this I have no doubt.

       The fire that burns in her eyes intrigues me. She was ready to rip me a new one, and yet as twisted as it sounds, that seems to turn me on. Eda Yildiz is not a woman I would ever, and I mean ever, entertain dating. I don't like my women defiant and difficult, I prefer them domesticated, and yet there's just something about that woman that electrifies me, that makes my heart pound like an out-of-control Taiko drum.

       She's a wild ocean I desire to tame; I just pray that the raging tides will not drown me. Damn, her smile could tempt a priest, and believe me, a priest I am not.

                              ***
        
        Their gazes collide, the intensity of their connection knocks the wind out of her. Her pulse races. Her heart pounds out of her chest. His eyes are penetrating, and his smirk is seductive, infuriating and intimidating.

       Eda lurches forward and glares at him, eyes squinting, seething with anger. Serkan's turned on and amused, perhaps even slightly scared. Her eyes turn a darker shade of whiskey when she's mad. A woman like her is typically as attractive as a bug repellent to Serkan, but where Eda Yildiz is concerned, he finds her even sexier when she's angry.

        As they sit and stare into each other's eyes, their gazes burn through their shields, spiking their pulses, and sending heated shivers down their spines. Their two unlikely worlds collide. Eda feels like her life has once again, been vacuumed into a tornado, and where it would spit her out is anyone's guess.

                                                                                              ***

       "Who does that?"

       Serkan bellows, his face contorted, his eyes shooting daggers. 

       "Are you out of your mind, woman?"

       He whispers gravelly, through clenched pearly whites.

       "Whatever, I wouldn't have done it if you didn't try to escape!"

       Eda chides, rolling her eyes.

       "Cool your jets, mister, just unlock the handcuffs with the key, it's not like you're my prisoner!"