Stumbling to her feet, Lottie pulled her coat closer to her. ‘I...I just needed to think—to be with Seraphina.’
‘Of course. You don’t need to explain. I will go...leave you in peace.’ He was already turning away.
‘No.’ Suddenly she knew she didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to stand with her, beside their daughter’s grave, together. Not to distance himself in the way he always had. ‘Why don’t you join us?’
If the words sounded flippant they both knew the very real intent that they held. Lottie watched as Rafael hesitated, wariness, uncertainty and pride crossing his face before he quietly moved between the overgrown graves to join her, standing sentry-tall beside the towering angel.
There was a short moment of painfully poignant silence, abruptly ended when Rafael shifted his position and gave a small cough.
‘You look cold, Lottie. We should go back to the palazzo. There are things we need to discuss.’
‘I’m fine.’ A shiver so violent that it shook her shoulders said otherwise.
Registering the challenge in her voice, he increased the authority of his own. ‘Then come into the chapel. It will be warmer in there.’
There was no point in arguing. Lottie followed him to the arched doorway of the chapel and watched as he turned the heavy iron ring on the door.
The small space welcomed them in with its domed sky-blue ceiling, sprinkled with hundreds of gold stars and the gilded altar at the back watched over by the Madonna and child. There was that particular, evocative smell—a mixture of wood and damp and incense.
Walking between the rows of ancient pews, Rafael went to light a candle at the altar, then joined Lottie on the front pew, his long legs stretched before him. They were quiet for a moment, neither wanting to break the spell.
‘So...’ Eventually Rafael spoke, his voice low and respectful of their environment. ‘Your decision last night...’
He turned guardedly to face her, and Lottie noticed that the cold had puckered his scar to a white slash.
‘...it still stands?’
‘Yes, of course.’ She returned his look defiantly.
‘Good.’ He let out a breath that lowered his shoulders. ‘Then I thank you again. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how much this means to me.’
‘No, you don’t Rafael.’ Lottie clasped her cold hands together. ‘And, despite the novelty, please don’t think that you have to keep thanking me either.’
‘As you wish.’ He looked at her curiously, trying to gauge her mood. ‘Perhaps you would prefer me to move on to the practicalities?’
Lottie wouldn’t prefer it, as it happened, but she knew that she had no choice. She scuffed her feet against the ancient tiles.
‘Dr Oveisi will be arriving at two-thirty tomorrow.’
‘What?’ That stopped the breath in her throat.
‘Yes. We were fortunate. He had a free day.’
Of course he had. World-renowned IVF specialists were bound to have plenty of time on their hands—empty diaries just waiting for a call. At least that was how it always seemed to work in Rafael’s world.
‘Tomorrow.’ She repeated the word slowly, trying to get it to sink in.
She didn’t know why she was surprised. Rafael was a man who, once a decision had been made, acted on it there and then. He was hardly going to suggest a cooling off period—thirty days in which she could change her mind, cancel her contract.
And, despite the shot of panic she had to concede that there was no point in delaying things. She wasn’t going to change her mind. The sooner they did this, the sooner they would know if it had worked. And if it did...? Just the thought of that sent a giddy thrill of excitement all the way down to her wriggling toes.
Yesterday, when she had made her decision, it had almost felt as if someone else had taken over her body. Some reckless, feckless madam who had elbowed her sensible self to one side, gagged her with a frivolously decadent undergarment and said, Yes, Rafael, of course I will agree to this preposterous idea.
She had strongly suspected that the morning would see her deeply regretting the idea. But her sleepless night had produced more than the dark circles under her eyes. Those chilly hours of darkness had focussed her mind, made her see things more clearly than ever before. She had realised that Rafael was right; she did want to be a mother and, even though she hated to admit it even to herself, more than anything in the world she wanted to be the mother of Rafael’s child.
This was her one opportunity to make it happen—the embryo’s one chance of life. To say no now would be closing the door on that dream for ever, effectively agreeing that their embryo should be destroyed. Something she knew she could never, ever do. Today she was surprised to find that she felt strong—empowered, even, by her decision. This was a huge, massive risk she was taking, but what was it that people said? That life’s biggest regrets came not from the things you had done but the things you hadn’t? Well, she wasn’t going to be accused of that—not this time. No way.