The Last Heir of Monterrato

‘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.

Gazing around the chapel, she felt a flutter of anticipation go through her. If their future chance of parenthood was now in the lap of the gods this felt like the right place to be: seated next to Rafael in this timeless capsule of calm, with the Madonna and child before them. She took strength from that.

‘Tomorrow is all right with you?’

Rafael’s question cut through Lottie’s thoughts and she realised he was waiting for her reply.

‘I thought we might as well move this on as fast as we can.’

‘Tomorrow is fine.’ She turned to face him full-on, even risking a bright-eyed smile. ‘The sooner we can do this the better.’

* * *

Dr Oveisi turned out to be a rather dapper, middle-aged man with blue-black slicked-back hair and a fondness for gold jewellery. As Lottie nervously shook his outstretched hand she could feel the chunky rings against her sweaty palm.

They were seated in the grand salon—Lottie and Rafael side by side on the sofa, Dr Oveisi on a high-backed chair opposite. It soon became apparent that he was both highly intelligent and not a man to mess around. Rafael’s kind of man. After the briefest of introductions he launched straight into questions about Lottie’s fertility history, the failed IVF attempts and her current ovulation cycle.

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