Amara nodded, relieved that Rowan didn’t mention the kiss from last night. She sighed inwardly, thankful for his discretion.
Rowan handed her the bowl of soup. “Have this and replenish your energy.”
Amara reluctantly agreed and took the bowl from him. The soup’s warmth and aroma provided some comfort as she sipped it slowly. Meanwhile, Rowan stepped out of the room to make a quick call.
“Kyle, call Dr. Vince. I want him to check on Amara once more,” Rowan instructed.
A few minutes later, Dr. Vince arrived and performed a thorough check-up. “She’s doing much better,” he said, packing up his equipment. “The effects of the drug have mostly worn off. She just needs rest and hydration.”
“Thank you, Vince,” Rowan said, showing him out.
Amara got up from the bed, feeling steady on her feet now. “Thank you for everything, Rowan. I appreciate it.”
Rowan gave her a nod, his expression unreadable. “You don’t need to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
Amara glanced at her clothes and noticed they weren’t hers. Earlier, her mind had been hung up on the previous night’s events, so she hadn’t paid attention. Now, she wondered who had changed her clothes. A look of horror crossed her face as she considered the possibilities.
Rowan, noticing the look on her face, immediately knew what she was thinking. “It was Mrs. Grace,” he said quickly.
“Huh?” Amara replied, still confused.
“She changed your clothes,” Rowan clarified.
“Oh, alright,” Amara said, finally coming to her senses. She then continued, “Does she have another set of clothes? I want to change.”
Rowan nodded and went out to fetch the clothes. He returned within a few minutes and handed her a crimson-colored flowery dress.
Amara took the clothes and thought to herself, He has women’s clothes in his house. God knows how many women he has brought over here.
One look at her face and Rowan knew exactly what she was thinking. He chuckled and said, “I bought this for Mrs. Grace’s daughter’s birthday. She’s like a younger sister to me.”
Amara felt a wave of relief wash over her and managed a small smile. “Thank you but you don’t need to explain.”
She took the dress and went into the bathroom to change. The fabric was soft against her skin, and the dress fit perfectly.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Rowan was waiting for her. He looked up and smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “You look beautiful Crimson,” he said simply.
Amara blushed slightly. “Thank you.”
“I should go now,” Amara said, moving towards the door. “I don’t want to impose any further.”
Rowan paused her with a gentle yet firm hand on her arm. “I’ll send you back.”
“I’ll take a cab. You don’t need to trouble yourself,” Amara insisted feeling the touch of his warm hand, not wanting to be a burden.
Rowan’s deep stare held her in place. “There’s no trouble.”
Under his intense gaze, Amara felt a wave of emotions she couldn’t quite identify. Reluctantly, she agreed. “Okay, thank you.”
Rowan led her to his sleek black car parked outside. As they reached the vehicle, he opened the passenger door for her. She slid into the seat, feeling a mix of gratitude and unease. Rowan circled the car and got in on the driver’s side.
Once inside, Rowan reached over to fasten her seatbelt. The proximity of his body to hers made Amara’s heart beat faster. She could smell his clean, masculine scent, and the warmth of his presence was almost overwhelming.
Rowan, meanwhile, was acutely aware of Amara’s nearness. His heart quickened as he leaned over her, his fingers brushing against her side as he pulled the seatbelt across her. He could feel the heat emanating from her, and it took every ounce of self-control to maintain his composure. The memory of her kiss, however unintentional, lingered in his mind, stirring emotions he had tried to keep in check.
“All set,” he said, his voice a bit huskier than usual as he clicked the seatbelt into place.
“Thanks,” Amara replied, her voice soft.
Rowan started the car and they drove in silence for a while, the tension between them palpable. Amara stared out of the window, trying to calm her racing heart and make sense of her feelings. She had always known Rowan as a strong and imposing figure, but now she was seeing a different side of him one that was gentle, caring, and deeply protective.
Rowan, on the other hand, was grappling with his own emotions. He had always kept his feelings for Amara under wraps, not wanting to complicate their relationship or make her uncomfortable. But seeing her vulnerable and scared the previous night had stirred something deep within him. The thought of losing her or seeing her hurt was unbearable. He stole a glance at her, noticing the delicate curve of her jaw, the way her hair framed her face, and the lingering worry in her eyes.
As they neared Moretti Mansion, Rowan finally broke the silence. “Amara, about last night…”
She turned to look at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
“I want you to know that you’re not alone. If you ever need anything help, support, or just someone to talk to I’m here for you.”
Amara felt a lump form in her throat. “Thanks.”
He nodded, his eyes briefly meeting hers before returning to the road. “I mean it, Amara.”
Her heart fluttered at his words. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she felt a warmth spreading through her chest.
The car came to a stop outside her house. Rowan turned off the engine and got out, walking around to open her door. Amara stepped out, feeling a mix of emotions gratitude, confusion, and something deeper that she couldn’t quite name.
“Thank you for bringing me home,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Rowan smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made her heart skip a beat. “Anytime, Crimson.”
As Amara came home, she felt the weight of the previous night’s events settle over her. Exhaustion tugged at her, both physically and emotionally. She decided to take a much-needed rest, retreating to her bedroom. Her son, Vaughn, was in his usual spot, engrossed in his laptop. The sight of him absorbed in his activities brought her a semblance of normalcy and comfort.
Amara slept for almost half a day, letting the stress and tension melt away. When she finally woke up, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow through the windows. She stretched, feeling somewhat rejuvenated, and decided to head to the kitchen for some food.
As she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see Lucas already there. He was slicing vegetables with a practiced hand, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board a soothing backdrop.
“How are you feeling, Miss?” Lucas asked, looking up with a concerned expression.
“I’m better now,” Amara replied, offering a small smile. She appreciated Lucas’s constant vigilance and care.
Lucas’s brow furrowed slightly as he continued, “I heard what happened last night.”
Amara’s smile faded, replaced by a darker, more serious expression. She had gone to meet Rosie the previous night, accompanied by James for protection.
Lucas had been on an outside mission at the time, and it was clear that he felt guilty for not being there. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Miss. If I’d known-”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Amara interrupted, her voice firm. “You were following orders.”
The anger simmering beneath her calm facade was palpable. She couldn’t shake the image of Dom’s leering face and the humiliation she’d felt. Turning to Lucas, her eyes darkened with silent fury. “Find Dom Russo,” she commanded.
Lucas shook his head, his expression grim. “I heard the news. He was found dead this morning on Main Street.”
Amara’s eyes widened in surprise. “Dead? Who did this?”