Can Yaman is an internationally known actor and model. His shows have had great success but he hasn't been able to find that special woman to share his life with..yet.
Sanem Aydin is an up and coming dancer and choreographer who has worked hard all...
That kiss was like a rebirth for both Sanem and Can. They clung to each other, both fearful the other might disappear if they let go.
Is this just a dream? Sanem asked, as they slowly lifted their heads in need of air but not wanting to move.
If it is, may I never wake up from it, Can said huskily, scanning her eyes.
Can..what are you doing here? she asked, gazing into his eyes, needing to understand his intentions. I just saw that you were in Italy late last night.
Why am I here, Sanem? You. I'm here for you, he answered as his eyes darted over her lovely face.
There, there's so much to say, she stated hesitantly.
Yes, there is but I need to get you out of this rain and into some dry clothes, he said, taking her hand, leading her to his car.
Shivering in the passenger seat, Can reached behind him to get a sweatshirt to put over her and turned up the heat until she could warm up.
Neither of them wanted to stop staring at the other but he needed to drive. The urgency of her not getting sick again was the only thing that kept him from drawing her back into his arms.
Is my house ok? he asked, looking at her as he came to a stop at a traffic light. He gauged her facial expression, not knowing what to expect.
Yes, that's fine, Can, she said softly.
He had begged her forgiveness in a powerful display of vulnerability that had moved her deeply. Then he said he had come home for her; that he loved her and didn't want to be apart from her. So where did all of this leave them? Was he here to stay? She was now living between Istanbul and Madrid. His series met with critical acclaim in Italy so a 2nd season was imminent.
The silence was killing him. He didn't know what to expect from her after his confession. It had left him exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. The words had come from deep in his soul and as painful as they were, there was a freedom that came with such a release. He prayed that it was enough to convince her of his love.
Pulling up to his house, he stopped the car and looked at her. She was breathtaking even with her hair wet and clinging to her perfect face. Focus, Can. He needed to get her inside.
Jumping out like a man on a mission, he ran to the passenger side to help her out, taking her hand as they ran to the door, the rain still coming down. Fumbling with the keys, he opened the door to let her in, closing it with his foot.
Leading her to his bedroom, they both blushed at the memory of the last time they were there. Smiling, he went to his dresser and produced the same long grey T-shirt that she had worn before, holding it for her to take.
She blushed as she now realized it was the same shirt but as she took it from his hands, she marveled that the spark they felt every time they touched had not diminished. If anything, it seemed to have intensified in their separation.
Taking a risk, Can slowly took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. He kissed her knuckles reverently and then turned her delicate hand over and kissed her palm.
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