“There’s nothing I want more in this world than for you to forgive me... Lassa.”
Thalassa’s heart squeezed painfully at the affectionate name he’d used. It was a nickname many close to her called her, but there had been something special about the way he said it—a certain raspiness and breathiness that made her weak in the knees.
The last time he’d called her by that name was four years ago when they’d been happy, before they got married, and he changed into a completely different man.
Glaring at him, she gritted out coldly, “Do not call me that again, Mr. Miller.”
Kris swallowed, feeling the frostiness in her tone, knowing this was going to be just as hard as he had expected. But at least she’d given him some kind of reaction. Her anger was far better than her indifference.
He risked
