They had met one drizzly afternoon in Oxford when Rafael had appeared through the steam of the espresso machine in the coffee bar where Lottie had worked. Two hours, several cups of coffee and an impatient queue of customers had seen them briefly sketch in their lives to each other. Rafael had been finishing his business doctorate at the university; Lottie had ben in her third year at art school. It had seemed the most natural thing in the world that he would wait for her to finish her shift, that they would then run together through the full-on rain to Rafael’s favourite English pub and arrive, laughing and dripping over the towelling bar mats, already totally and recklessly in love.
Because it had been reckless—especially Lottie getting pregnant so quickly. Even though they had been thrilled—speechless with joy, in fact—it had meant a hastily arranged wedding in an Oxford register office, and in retrospect Lottie could see that was hardly what Rafael’s father would have wanted for his only son and heir. That in all probability she was not what he would have wanted for his only son and heir.
But she’d never had the chance to find out because Georgio had died shortly after their wedding and that was when everything had changed. Rafael had hastened back to Monterrato, taking with him his pregnant bride, throwing Lottie into the totally unfamiliar role of wife of the Conte. And with the principality seeming to take up all of Rafael’s time cracks had started to appear in their relationship even before the tragedy of Seraphina’s death.
Lottie had been lonely, resentful of this wretched place Monterrato which had stolen the husband she had fallen in love with in England and replaced him with a workaholic businessman.
And nothing had changed now. The principality of Monterrato still came first. The only reason she was here was to protect its future, provide an heir. But even with that realisation gnawing away at her she couldn’t hold back her excitement as she spread her hands across her stomach. That heir might...just might...be starting life inside her now.
Hearing a sound behind her, she turned to see Rafael coming towards her, carrying a blanket over his arm.
‘I thought you might need this.’ Shaking it out, he went to spread it over her knees, but Lottie edged further along the bench to stop him.
‘I’m not an invalid, you know.’
‘I know. I just thought you might be cold.’
‘Well, I’m not.’
‘Okay. Just bad-tempered then.’ Whipping back the blanket, he threw it over one shoulder and looked down at her. ‘What would you like to do tonight?’
Lottie darted a look at him, his shadowed figure tall and imposing as he stood there, matador-like, waiting for her answer. Surely he wasn’t expecting them to do anything else today, was he? Wasn’t an embryo transplantation followed by a helicopter ride to this place enough for one day?
‘Do?’
‘I mean about food.’ His eyes glowed in the dark. ‘Do you want to go out for a meal?’
‘No, thank you. I’m actually quite tired. Not invalid tired—just...well, tired.’
‘Yes, of course. I should have thought. In that case I will cook something for us.’
‘You really are determined to make me an invalid, aren’t you?’
The barb hit its target and Rafael pursed his lips against a spreading smile. ‘That was uncalled for, young lady.’ He regarded Lottie in the dying light. ‘And, besides, I hardly think you are in a position to make accusations. Unless you have recently acquired some skills that were hitherto sadly lacking?’
‘I may have done.’ Lottie raised her chin in challenge. She hadn’t, in fact—she was still as useless as ever in the kitchen. But he didn’t have to know that.
‘Well, in that case I will look forward to some gourmet meals during our fortnight here.’
Lottie’s heart lurched inside her. However was she going to survive two weeks here, alone with Rafael? Looking at him standing there, feeling the watchful gleam of his dark eyes, food was the least of her worries.
‘Shall we go in now?’
‘In a minute. I just want to sit here a little longer.’
Indicating that she should budge up, Rafael sat down beside her.
Actually she had meant sit here alone. Suddenly the bench seemed ridiculously small for two people—especially when one of them was six feet four, with the musculature of someone who was no stranger to the gym.
‘It is beautiful, isn’t it?’
Edging a little further away from him, Lottie pointedly commented on the view, watching the way the colours of the water had changed to an inky blue. The sky was still several shades lighter, the first stars starting to pierce its skin. The fact that she was sharing it with someone who was making every nerve-ending in her body stand to attention was neither here nor there.