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“Our contract says differently.”

It was suddenly hard to breathe. Where had all the air gone in the fancy room? “Bullshit,” she gasped. “You can’t expect me to give him up like that. I thought you might …” She trailed away, heaving a heavy sigh, her gaze falling on the sparkling crystal water goblet.

The waiter arrived bearing glasses and a bottle of wine. Amara’s mind whirled, and she took advantage of the time spent on uncorking the bottle, tasting and serving the wine, to try to get her emotions under some control.

After the waiter left, Quint briefly told her that he’d already ordered their meal, the main course being some dish you had to order hours in advance. He said he hoped she didn’t mind his presumption. Mind? About food? When her child was in danger of being taken from her? Who gave a damn about food?

She shrugged in response. She didn’t care.

Quint fell back into silence then, watching her, probably formulating his strategy, waiting for the perfect moment to leap on his prey. No, that was unfair, she told herself. But still. How was she supposed to win a negotiation with a man who’d gotten the better of deals with the finest business minds in the world?

She refused to raise her head and look at him. He’d have to make the first move. It was the only advantage she might get.

Finally, Quint spoke. “Amara, I need you to listen to me and talk about this. I know it isn’t easy, but the fact is that we had a deal. You would carry my son, and I would fund your research. I know that the executor of my will has been funneling money to the organizations and people you indicated, so I’ve held up my end of the bargain and will gladly continue to do so in the future, per our agreement. Per our signed contract.”

She didn’t like how he emphasized the word contract. She studied him, met his eyes again, was struck by how grayed the blue was, how deep the hollows were under his eyes. When she was walking up to the table, it had seemed a trick of the candlelight, but they were just as bad, if not worse, up close.

And yet he was still a handsome, sexy man. It was as if the past two months of suffering had both softened and hardened him at the same time. It had carved something new out of his features. She was drawn to the dichotomy, the mystery he presented, now even more than in the past.

What was he hiding behind those strained eyes?

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t be as outraged as she probably should be. He was injured, still in recovery, obviously. She bet he came out tonight against doctor’s orders. It would be like him.

And it would be monstrous to take a hard-line stance with someone who’d already been through so much. Wouldn’t it?

She sat up straight and willed her heart rate lower. “I know you’ve held up your end of the bargain, and I appreciate it. You have no idea how vital your assistance has been in every way. We may soon have a product ready for wider distribution.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“And thanks to your efforts, I won the Carrington Award. Thank you.”

“You deserve it,” he said. “You’re going to make a huge difference in millions of lives.”

“No, we will make a difference.”

He gave a half-nod of acquiescence.

She continued. “I realize that my end of the bargain was to give you an heir. But I need you to understand how hard this is for me to even consider. I’ve spent the last three months knowing and loving my son. He’s become the light of my life, and I can hardly imagine a day without his smiling face.”

Quint flinched.

Amara considered that a good sign and hurried on. “I can’t even start to entertain the thought of letting him go now. There must be some other way to work this out. I mean, you have every right to see him — he’s as much your son as he is mine.” The weight of the words struck her as they left her lips, Raneesha’s sentiment echoing in her head.

“My mother has been pushing and pushing for me to let Hampton’s father into his life.” She knew she was babbling now, but there was no restraining herself. “But

I haven’t known what to say with everything so up in the air. With you … gone … and all.”

Quint’s expression had hardened as she spoke. “And now I’m back, so that should simplify things.”

“And yet it doesn’t. It just makes it more complicated.”

Quint inhaled deeply. She wondered if it was a calming technique. The coldness he’d been exhibiting was long gone.

“That sounded bad, like I’m not happy you’re back. I am, of course. I know you would be … were going to be,” she said, “a great father. But Quint, I can’t bear the thought of being separated from Hampton. I can’t. It’s impossible.”

“As I said, the solution is simple. I’ll take you both,” he said.

Chapter Sixteen


Tags: Mia Caldwell Billionaire Romance