Harlequin Presents January 2015 Box Set 3 of 4(210)

But with each advancing mile Lottie felt her nerves increasing. The radio was no distraction either. The jangly love songs seemed deliberately to highlight the absurdity of her situation. Slowing down a little, she felt for a bottle of water and gulped down several mouthfuls.

What she was about to do still seemed crazy—unbelievable. Even though she had thought of little else these past few weeks.

It was difficult not to when faced with a daily cocktail of drugs and injections, but she had never allowed herself to get past this stage—past the actual implantation of the embryo. She couldn’t put it off much longer. At some point she was going to have to confront the reality of what she was doing. Whether she was pregnant or not pregnant there were going to be life-changing consequences. And at the moment all of them seemed equally scary.

Rafael was waiting for Lottie on the steps of the clinic and kissed her formally on the cheek. They walked in through the sliding glass doors together.

He looked tall and handsome, wearing a dark grey suit and white shirt, open at the collar, a grey silk tie pulled loose. Lottie was struck afresh by the sheer force of his beauty, his charismatic presence and style. Even in the few days since she had seen him his injuries had healed more rapidly—the bruises faded to a pale yellow beneath his olive skin, the whiplash scar a pale pink line.

They exchanged a silent glance as they stood in the reception area, Rafael’s armour plating of control firmly in place, Lottie’s mouth too dry to say anything even if she had wanted to.

Dr Oveisi arrived, and as the three of them got into a lift to go up to the third floor he wasted no time in informing them that the assisted hatching of the frozen embryo had been successfully completed and everything was good to go. The expression of relief on Rafael’s face was reflected in the mirrored walls around them.

And so it was that, less than half an hour later, the whole procedure had been completed.

Lottie hadn’t wanted Rafael to be there—had tried to persuade him that he might prefer to stay in the waiting room, suddenly feeling ridiculously shy in front of him. But, fastening the green scrubs behind his back, he had merely given her a contemptuous look that had needed no words to clarify it. And she had to admit his presence had helped; like a towering wall of determination, it had felt as if his will alone was enough to make this work.

And when he had reached for her hand she had found herself gripping it as if her life depended on it. Or at least their baby’s life.

Now he stood behind her as they stared at a computer screen and the doctor ran the scanner over Lottie’s stomach, pointing out the tiny bubble of air showing where the embryo had been placed. Lottie stared at it, sending out all the positive vibes she could, willing it to do what it had to do.

‘Now...’ Dr Oveisi turned to look at the prospective parents. ‘There are a few rules you will need to abide by for the next couple of weeks.’

From her prone position, Lottie nodded.

Rafael waited, sharp and alert.

‘I am a firm believer that stress is the body’s worst enemy when it comes to successful embryo implantation, and as such it should be avoided at all costs. Research is only just beginning to discover how important the right mental state of the recipient is. By that I don’t mean that the Contessa should take to her bed and do nothing—far from it.’ He looked directly at Lottie. ‘I want you to use the next couple of weeks to do the things that give you pleasure—activities that will take your mind off the outcome of the procedure. So moderate exercise, mental stimulation and full marital relations are all advisable.’

Marital relations? The very air in the room seemed to gasp at the thought of it. That was the one thing Lottie could guarantee wasn’t going to happen.

The sad absurdity of the situation forcefully struck her once again.

Finally Rafael and Dr Oveisi left the room, leaving Lottie to stay in bed for the requisite fifteen minutes. Gazing into space, she felt a myriad of conflicting and confusing thoughts crowd her mind. Had that really just happened? Was she really lying here with their embryo implanted inside her?

Up and dressed, and feeling a bit more in control, she went down to the reception area. The twin stares of the two receptionists alerted her to where Rafael stood, leaning against the wall, one long leg crossed over the other, talking into his mobile phone.

Seeing Lottie he gestured her towards him.

‘Oui, oui, d’accord, deux semaines.’ He raised his eyebrows at her before returning to his call, speaking in rapid French.

Lottie had always been confounded by the way he could do that—switch from one language to another with seamless ease. Fluent in English, French and German, as well as his native Italian, it seemed to be as natural to him as breathing.