But where the hell was she? Initial relief gave way to another wave of anxiety. Supposing she had already done a pregnancy test and it had proved negative. Had she taken herself off somewhere to lick her wounds? Was that why she had disappeared?
Rafael knew just how much Lottie wanted this baby. He thought back to when they had discussed it—when she had tried to explain about her deep-rooted desire to be a mother, about wanting to do right all the things her own mother had done wrong.
And how had he reacted? With compassion and understanding? Or even with relief that here was a young woman who knew her own mind, who was doing it for herself, not as some sort of twisted favour to him? No, he hadn’t reacted in any of those ways. He had bitten her head off, snarled at her about how he had feelings too. He could still see the look of hurt in her eyes before he had turned away. What he didn’t know was when he had turned into such a bastard.
Marching down the corridor, he checked his phone yet again, to see if she had answered his messages. He could feel anger surging through him now, pushing the anxiety to one side. It was an emotion he was far more comfortable with, if he was honest. Jabbing at her number, he cursed when, after a few rings, it went to voicemail. He heard himself bark, ‘Where the hell are you?’ before returning the phone to his pocket and thundering out onto the terrace.
Scanning the sun-rippled lake, he watched the traffic of assorted boats weaving about on the water. With no particular plan in mind, he started to descend the steps to the water’s edge, stopping with a jolt and a thudding heart halfway down. The speedboat had gone. Fear gripped his heart and a hundred different scenarios ran through his mind, each one worse than the last.
What had happened here? Whatever had possessed him to leave her alone last night? How in the name of God could he have been so selfish?
With panic and fear wrestling in his chest, clawing at his throat, he ran down the remaining steps, pulling the phone out of his pocket, punching in the number for his security team, already visualising the ransom demands, the terrifying danger Lottie could be in.
A loud toot made him look up. A speedboat—his speedboat—was heading towards him, with Lottie at the wheel, waving casually. What the—? A new, but nonetheless urgent anxiety gripped Rafael; she was going far too fast, she was using only one hand, and she was heading straight for the moorings.
‘Slow down!’ Cupping his hands over his mouth, he screamed at her over the roar of the engine. ‘Cut the engine!’
The boat did an erratic zig-zag as Lottie stood up to try and hear what he was saying.
‘Cut the engine!’
Finally comprehending, Lottie gave him an okay sign and the throaty roar stopped. But the momentum of its speed was still carrying the boat far too fast as it cut through the water towards him.
‘Sideways on!’
He could see Lottie clearly now, cheeks flushed with the fresh air, blonde hair streaming out behind her. At least she had both hands on the wheel now.
‘Turn!’ Indicating with wildly flailing arms, he tried to get her to understand what to do. ‘Turn the wheel. Come in sideways!’
There was a crunch, followed by a long scraping sound, followed by a delicate, ‘Oops...’
Unscrewing his eyes, he saw his speedboat now indignantly at rest against the far end of the dock. And Lottie, wobbling as she tried to stand, calmly getting ready to disembark.
‘Mio Dio!’ He was beside her in a flash, extending an arm to help her ashore. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No, of course not.’ Refusing to make eye contact, Lottie let go of his hand the second she was on dry land. ‘I’m not quite so sure about the boat, though, I’m afraid there might be a bit of a scrape...’
As she turned back to look at it Rafe caught hold of her arm, spinning her round to face him.
‘I don’t give a damn about the boat.’ He glared down at her, his voice harsh with immense relief. ‘What the hell do you think you were doing? You don’t have the first idea how to drive that thing. You could have killed yourself.’