The Last Heir of Monterrato

‘Yes—fine, thank you.’

‘Are you hungry?’ He gestured to the plate of pastries beside him.

‘Umm...’

He slid the plate towards her and watched as she seated herself next to him, carefully arranging the dressing gown to cover her legs.

‘They do look nice.’

‘Cornetti, fresh from the panificio. I took the boat out early this morning.’

Slicing open one of the pastries, she spread it thickly with butter and took a bite.

‘So, how are you feeling?’ Closing his laptop, Rafael turned to give her his full attention, distracted by the grease-slicked swell of her pink lips as she chewed hungrily.

‘If you mean by that do I feel pregnant, then, no—I feel just the same as yesterday.’ She concentrated on her eating.

‘Actually, I meant has your mood improved?’ Every now and then he could glimpse the tip of her tongue, disappearing into the dark moistness of her mouth. ‘But I guess you have answered that.’

‘My mood is perfectly all right, thank you.’ Wiping her fingers on a piece of paper towel, she tipped her chin to look at him.

‘Good...good.’

He leant forward, watching her eyes widen as he did so, and removed a flake of pastry stuck to her lower lip, then sucked it off his finger. The intimacy of the gesture shocked him. What did he think he was doing? Lottie looked equally startled, immediately pulling back.

‘You don’t have to be like this, you know,’ she said. Holding the collar of her dressing gown, she pulled it more tightly across her chest.

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know... Like, well...falsely polite.’

‘Meaning...?’ He stared at her.

‘What I’m saying is, don’t feel that you have to pussyfoot around me for the whole two weeks. It wouldn’t feel right—and anyway the strain will kill you.’

‘Pussyfoot?’ He watched the blush spread across her cheeks as she looked down, moving pastry crumbs around on the plate with her finger. The word seemed to have taken on a far more carnal meaning. ‘I had no idea that was what I was doing.’

‘I just mean that we need to try and be normal.’ She turned to look at him again, still fighting to control the colour of her skin. ‘We both know the situation; it’s not as if we need to pretend to each other. Playing the part of dutiful husband is not going to make me any more pregnant and it would just feel like a sham.’

‘Well, thank you for pointing that out.’

As her sharp words hit home Rafael narrowed his eyes at her. It was obvious what she was doing: setting the ground rules, constructing a safety barrier between them to keep his unwanted attentions away. Just the idea that she thought she had to do that curdled his stomach.

‘Fine.’ His voice was harsh, cutting. ‘I agree that we don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Like we might enjoy each other’s company, or anything like that.’

Now it was Lottie’s turn to feel the chill. Why was she being made to feel bad for pointing out the truth? The hostility he had shown her when she had first arrived back at the palazzo had demonstrated clearly enough what he thought of her.

‘I think it’s important that we are honest with each other, that’s all. I know what Dr Oveisi said, and everything, but that doesn’t mean we should be trying to fool each other.’

‘Whatever you say.’ Bored with the subject, Rafael stood up, fixing Lottie with a steely stare. ‘Have you finished your breakfast?’

Well, that awkward conversation was obviously over. ‘Yes, thank you. I’ll go and get dressed now.’

‘Wait.’ He watched an immediate flicker of wariness cross her blue eyes. ‘I have something to show you first.’

‘You do? What’s that?’

‘Come with me and you will find out.’

There was a beat of hesitation before Lottie slipped down from the stool, a flash of leg emerging from the unflattering dressing gown.

‘I hope you will accept one thing I have planned as a result of Dr Oveisi’s advice without feeling the need to argue about it.’

Lottie followed him out of the kitchen and up the stairs, her heart thumping more wildly with every step. What exactly had he planned? Despite telling herself not to be stupid, only one piece of Dr Oveisi’s advice clanged loudly in her head. Full marital relations. They appeared to be heading for a bedroom. She could feel her traitorous body already bounding ahead of her brain. Surely there was no way he could be thinking...? Could he?

Crossing the landing, Rafael flung open a door and gestured to her to go in before him. Cautiously, Lottie entered.