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“I know you didn’t. I initiated it. I didn’t have to ask you to stay with me, and I didn’t have to do anything else. I know that. But I don’t think we should be doing that again. Not now.” She heaved a heavy sigh, her gaze lowering to the plate of steaming food.
“Amara, we didn’t do anything wrong. It’s natural to want to comfort each other, to make each other feel good, to connect. And it’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it? It’s essentially the continuation of something we never got to finish.”
“I don’t know. I feel … wrong.”
“You shouldn’t feel ashamed of seeing to your own happiness and well-being, no matter what you’re doing outside of it. I know you’re a self-sacrificing type, that you give everything you have to help not only those close to you, but everyone. But there’s nothing we could have been doing otherwise.”
Amara brought her gaze up to meet his. “You don’t know what’s been going on in my head this morning, Quint. I can’t stop it. It’s all jumbled up inside me. All of it. It’s like I have too many feelings going on at the same time. I’m guilty, I’m terrified, I’m grateful, I’m confused. I don’t regret what happened between us, but feeling good feels wrong. I don’t know how to feel. Quint, I think I may be losing it. I’m sorry. I know I make no sense, yet I can’t stop it.”
He hugged her close, held her tightly, and she wrapped her arms around his waist, breathing deeply of his warm body. “It’s okay, sweet one. It’s okay. You’re overwhelmed, that’s all.”
“I think I’m an irrational lunatic.”
“No, you’re a mother who’s missing her child and who should stop blaming herself for what happened.”
“It was all my fault, though. All of it.”
“It’s not,” Quint said with more than a little heat. “It’s simply not.”
She swallowed hard and fought down the tide of rising panic. “I think we should stop having sex until we’ve got Hampton back. Okay?”
“Of course, Amara. If that’s what you want to do, I have nothing but respect for that. If you change your mind, I’m here for you same as I was last night. But you’re probably right — it’s best to focus our energies elsewhere.”
She nodded, and he kissed her lightly on the top her head before releasing her and returning to the stove to cook his own omelet. He passed her some toast and jelly, and a large bowl of fresh fruit.
Amara poked at her omelet and nibbled on a toast triangle. Emotions continued to roil inside her, but she had them in check again, for now.
Quint finished his omelet, plated it and sat beside her. “If I don’t hear from Frederik by tonight,” he said, “I’m going to contact him again. It’ll damage our standing, but there’s nothing to be gained by waiting. The longer we do, the longer we’re without our son. So, let’s have breakfast and start thinking of things we can do to move everything along.”
Halfway through the meal, Quint’s phone chimed in his pocket, causing him to nearly drop his fork in his eagerness to get to the message. “Serendipitous. Must have been the right decision. Email this time.” A faint smile as he navigated to his messages, though it fell from his face entirely once he’d read the contents.
“It’s from Frederik, isn’t it?” Amara asked in dread.
Quint blew out a breath and read aloud.
Stop wasting your time, and what will soon be my money, bribing local officials to try to find me. Same goes for the private detectives. This is my world, not yours. You’ll never find me. As punishment, I’m upping your bill. Fifty million. And forget cash. Too bulky at this level. I want it in an overseas account. I’ve given details below. Once you make the deposit and I verify it, I’ll see about reuniting you with your little trophy. Tell the Puta I wish I were there to drink her tears. They would be the sweetest reward of all.
Chapter Thirty
AS QUINT NEARED THE END OF the message, his voice practically dripped with venom. He seemed outraged at the flippant tone. “Bastard,” he concluded.
“Fifty million dollars,” Amara said, overwhelmed by the enormity of such a sum. “He’s raving.”
Quint waved a hand in the air. “The money is nothing. It’s how he spoke of you that has me wanting to —”
“Nothing? Fifty million dollars?” Amara couldn’t imagine so much money, let alone call it nothing. “You would really pay Frederik so much?”
“Of course.”
Her heart swelled in her chest and her voice broke. “Th-thank you, Quint. Words aren’t enough. That you haven’t hesitated, it’s … thank you.”
Quint spoke in soft tones. “Amara, he’s my son, too.”
“I realize that. Still, I can’t help but wonder what I would do if you weren’t here. It would be hopeless. I can’t thank you enough.”
“Thanks aren’t necessary. I hate that Orlando’s got us up against it. We don’t have any choice.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Amara said.
