Second story: Raindrops On Water
It wasn't the best of ideas, but that had never stopped him before. Jack didn't take no for an answer. Not when he wanted something. And he wanted her. Damn, he wanted her.
She wasn't his usual type, but then again, did he really HAVE a type? Perhaps.
He usually went after the taller women. Long hair, usually blondes (although the occasional red head set him on fire). Eyes were not all that important to him, though he favored blue eyes over green and green eyes over hazel and hazel over brown. No, eyes were not important, or so he told himself every time he looked into the eyes of his latest catch. He prefered those less educated women. True, he liked an intellegent conversation now and then, but those who knew anything about anything often found him very shallow and self-centered. A fact he wouldn't deny.
So why did he want her? She wasn't as tall as he would usually prefer. She had short brown hair, cut just below her ears. Dark eyes, almost black. She was beautiful, well-educated, and his enemy. Yes, she was his enemy.