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Her grip tightened on the letter as she glared at him one last time, then tugged to get away from him.

"Let go." She hissed.

"First, I want you to take something with you. Something I also need."

She knew what was coming and was aware that if he touched her like that, she would be lost. But there was no use fighting. He was physically stronger than she was and the determination on his handsome face warned her that it would be useless to try.

He drew her in slowly, his intense dark eyes holding hers as if daring her to retreat.

She was paralyzed, both by the look in his hypnotic gaze and the thundering of her heart.

Her mind was screaming at her to resist, but her body was betraying her.

She felt lax and yielding and he could tell from the expression on her face that she was no longer resisting.

Heat rose up inside him and grabbed him by the throat.

Forcing himself to take it slow, he wrapped a hand around the back of her neck.

Linking their fingers, he placed her hand over his heart where he was not quite steady.

She expected him to ravish and was shaken when he brushed his lips slowly over hers, back and forth, until she was dizzy.

His breath warmed her, heating her from the inside out.

Kai captured the sigh against his lips. Nudging hers apart, he dipped his tongue into her mouth and went weak at the first taste of her.

Sensations hit him, desire tumbling through his body like a gale force wind.

Stepping closer, he wrapped his arm around her waist, longing to feel her slender curves.

His hold on her was firm but kind, a balance between restraint and surrender. Her heart pounded, a wild rhythm that matched the tumult of emotions tearing through her. Slowly, reluctantly, she let herself melt into the embrace, her free hand sliding up to rest lightly on his shoulder.

For a moment, the world around them seemed to fall away. The weight of unspoken words, of past grievances and future uncertainties dissolved into the warmth of their shared breath. His heartbeat thudded against her palm, a tangible proof of vulnerability he rarely allowed to show.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, his body inflamed.

This had always been the case between them.

As a teenager, the frantic passion had frightened her and unsettled him.

He was used to women, because he had started so young.

But with her, it had always been different and that had made him uneasy.

Now, it was much worse. The desire was pouring through him like molten lava.

And he could feel his tenuous control slipping away by degrees.

But as quickly as the moment began, reality crept back in. She pulled away, her breath uneven and her eyes wide with something between fear and longing. The letter crumpled slightly in her hand, a stark reminder of the chasm that still lay between them.

"I can't," she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of emotions she couldn't articulate yet. "This doesn't fix anything."

"No," he agreed, his voice low but steady. "But it's a start."

"No!" She shook her head wildly, the hair he had undone, spilling down her back and around her face.

"I want you to stay away from me. You cannot simply come back and expect to pick up where we left off as if nothing happened.

Something damn well did! You left me and I--" Leaning against the vehicle, she fought for control.

"You left and yes, this proves that there is still something between us, but it's too late and if you ever cared about me, you'll leave me alone. "

"That's not going to happen." He started to reach for her again, dropping his hand when she shrank back. "I can't. Anything but that."

He stepped back, intense eyes watching her. She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then turned and walked away, the letter clutched tightly to her chest.

Kai stood frozen, watching her retreating figure until it disappeared from view. The ache in his chest was unbearable, but he knew—hoped—that the words he'd poured into that letter would find their way into her heart. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

Kai remained rooted to the spot, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as the stillness of the evening settled around him.

The faint rustle of leaves in the breeze barely registered over the cacophony of his thoughts.

Every instinct screamed at him to follow her; to bridge the distance she had placed between them.

Yet, he knew better than to press further now.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair as if the act could untangle the knot of regret and yearning coiled in his chest. There were so many things he wanted to say—needed to say—but none of it seemed enough.

He had always prided himself on his ability to control situations, to bend them to his will, but she had always been the exception.

The letter was all he had left to give, and even as doubt gnawed at him, he clung to the hope that it might plant a seed, however small, in the soil of her heart.

He turned, his footsteps heavy against the gravel, and walked back to the car.

The weight of her absence settled like a stone in his chest.

She refused to think about the encounter.

On the drive home, she could still feel his lips on hers, the feel of his lean muscled body against hers.

His heartbeat against her fingers. And she yearned.

Oh God, how she yearned to have him even closer, to see that golden brown body completely naked.

To experience him again—his fingers trailing over her, his lips bold and unapologetic making their way down her body.

Once inside, she leaned against the door, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. The letter was still clutched in her hand, now crumpled and damp from the pressure of her grip.

Her fingers trembled as she smoothed it out on the table, staring at the creased paper that held more than just his words—it held pieces of him, fragments of feelings he had never been able to voice aloud. She hesitated, her heart warring with her head, before finally unfolding it.

The first line made her breath hitch, the vulnerability in his handwriting stark against the white paper.

As her eyes scanned the words, her resolve began to waver.

It was raw, unpolished, and so thoroughly him.

It was as though he had poured his soul onto the page, and for the first time in years, she could see the man he once was beneath the defenses he'd built.

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she wiped them away impatiently. This wasn't about forgiving him—at least, not yet. It was about understanding what lay between them, the messy, tangled connection that refused to fade even when she desperately wanted it to.

She folded the letter carefully, placing it back on the table, and sat down heavily on the nearby chair. Her gaze fell to the window, where the city lights twinkled distantly, oblivious to the storm raging in her chest.

So, she still loved him, damn him to hell! She did not need a crystal ball to realize that. Blinking away the tears, she smiled tremulously when Brutus came over to nudge at her legs, his expression plaintive.

"I know boy. I haven't greeted you properly." She rubbed his head and tickled his belly, sending him into a frenzy of delight. His excited yapping echoed through the room and managed to lighten her mood.

As Brutus calmed, settling at her feet with a satisfied huff, she leaned back in the chair, her fingers still absentmindedly brushing his fur.

Her mind, however, lingered on the letter.

The vulnerability in his words was disarming, stripping away the armor she had so carefully forged around her heart.

She wanted to be furious with him, to cling to the bitterness that had once shielded her.

But something about his confession, his willingness to bare the raw edges of his soul, left her unmoored.

Her eyes flicked toward the letter once more, the temptation to reread it tugging at her. Instead, she stood abruptly, the sudden movement causing Brutus to perk up in confusion.

"Alright, buddy," she murmured, more to herself than to him, "let's clear my head before I do something stupid." Grabbing her coat, she stepped out into the cool night air, breathing deeply as the city sounds wrapped around her.

The streets were quieter now, the hum of distant traffic a soothing backdrop as she wandered aimlessly.

Her thoughts churned, wrestling with the duality of her emotions—pain and longing, anger and hope.

She found herself walking toward the park, its pathways lined with the soft glow of lampposts and the occasional rustle of leaves.

It felt like a place suspended in time, where she could piece together what remained of her fractured composure.

As she approached a bench beneath a sprawling oak tree, she sat, her gaze drifting upward to the stars scattered across the night sky.

She remembered nights like this, sitting beside him, his arm draped casually over her shoulders as they shared dreams and secrets.

The memory was bittersweet, a reminder of what they had been and the chasm that now separated them.

She reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone and hesitating for a moment before unlocking it.

Her fingers hovered over his name in her contacts, the weight of what she might say pressing down on her.

She shook her head, locking the screen again and slipping it back into her pocket. Not yet, she thought. Not tonight.

The resolve brought a sense of clarity, albeit fleeting.

She would face him, confront the unspoken truths that lay between them, but only when she was ready.

Tonight, she would allow herself the space to feel, to remember, and perhaps, to begin healing.

With a deep breath, she rose from the bench, her steps lighter as she retraced her path home.

Brutus greeted her at the door with his usual exuberance, and she found herself smiling despite the ache in her chest.

Kai was having a difficult time of it. After she left him in that parking lot, he had sat there in his car, just thinking.

Now he was at his place, and it felt so goddamned empty.

He had promised himself and her that he would take things slow.

He would leave it up to her to set the pace.

He had messed her up, so it was the right thing to do.

Give her some time to get adjusted to having him around again.

But the kiss—Christ Jesus! He should not have touched her.

Now that he had, he knew he could not stay away.

Could not give her the time allotted. He could not bloody well stay away from her, and he damn well was not going to sit by while she goes out with another man.

He was not that tolerant. She was going to come to him.

And if she doesn't? The thought sneaked inside his head and caused his heart to stumble.

Here he was drinking on the balcony. The breeze was whipping the leaves on the surrounding trees and seeping through to his bones.

He was never usually affected by the cold, something that had always amazed Maxie.

He used to tease her about her bird bones.

She would be all bundled up in the fall, when he was just wearing a light sweater.

"If she doesn't come willingly, I'm prepared to drag her here, if I have to.

" He muttered. Shooting the rest of the scotch, he stumbled to his feet.

The craving for her was like a dull ache inside him.

How the hell had he spent ten years without her?

How had he ever thought he had forgotten about her?

Granted, things had progressed rapidly. His father had died suddenly and then he had been whisked off to Japan to learn the way of the family.

From there he had gone on to London to attend school.

All the while reeling at the progression.

He was head of the family, head of the company and was going to have to do his part.

In all that confusion, he had thought of her fleetingly. But what about after? He wondered.