CHAPTER ELEVEN
MONTHS PASSED. RED-HOT sex by night, nothing during the day, and every four weeks, more reason for Chloe to worry. More reason for her to fear. More reason for her to be certain that something was wrong with her body or his. And it was easier to suspect her own body to be at fault, because Raffa was everything a man should be. Virile, strong, so masculine. Surely the fault could not be his.
Besides, he’d already borne a son, so there was incontrovertible proof that his body was able to give to a woman’s womb the recipe for life.
On the sixth month of trying and failing to conceive, Chloe knew she needed to find answers. To at least look into the possibility that things might not be going to work for them.
It felt like the only thing she could do.
“Aysha,” she murmured. “There’s a children’s hospital in Switzerland I’d like to inspect – for the charity. Their fundraising model is unique, and they have one of the best children’s pediatric wards in the world. Would you contact the hospital director and arrange it?”
“Of course, your highness. Which hospital?”
Chloe handed the computer print-out to her servant, pleased that not by a single tremble did she betray the importance of what she was doing – nor reveal that she wasn’t being completely honest.
“When would you like to visit the facility, your highness?”
“As soon as it can be arranged.”
Less than a week later, Chloe’s private jet flew over Bern, the beautiful winding river glistening like a snake sunning itself beneath her. The old buildings stood like an Alpine postcard, and Chloe leaned closer to the window, her breath held, as the plane flew lower and lower, the plane touching down early enough in the morning that the air was still crisp, the sun still fresh.
Instead of the stately limousines that were used in Ras el Kida, a fleet of three armoured Range Rovers was waiting on the runway. She stepped into the middle car, accompanied only by Aysha.
“How far are we from the hospital?” Chloe murmured, as though her pulse wasn’t racing, as though the answer was neither here nor there.
“Only twenty minutes.”
“Excellent.” She pressed her head back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. Aysha wouldn’t have started a conversation in any event, but Chloe wanted to make it clear that she’d prefer not to speak. Her mind was too distracted. She was miles away.
The outskirts of Bern passed her by, all beautiful low buildings with lemon yellow walls and terracotta red rooves, windows that forced their way out like little children reaching for bubbles. She barely saw, though. Buildings gave way to trees, in city-parks, and finally, the car drew to a stop at a grand, old building near the river.
The door to the limousine opened and Chloe stepped from the car, her eyes taking in the façade of the hospital, her stomach shifting with the rolling kaleidoscope of butterflies that had taken up residence within.
Several men and two women stood at the top of the steps, and as Chloe’s eyes moved towards the group, one gentleman stood further forward. He wore a suit, and had dark, gleaming hair with a grey streak brushing back from his brow.
“Your Highness,” he bowed low and then took two steps closer.
“Doctor Schultz,” she smiled. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
“Of course, we are honoured by your interest in our facility.”
“Your facility has achieved a lot in a short space of time.”
His smile was wry. “It does not feel like a short space of time to me.” He gestured towards the hospital. “I have been the director for over ten years and only recently have we found strategies that have proved successful in raising our profile and therefore fundraising initiatives.”
“I’d love to hear more about that.”
He nodded, moving back towards the hospital.
“May I introduce you to our heads of department?”
“Of course.” She waited, feigning polite interest when impatience was making her mind sag. She made polite conversation with each member of the team, listening and committing details to memory so she could engage with the staff throughout the tour.
It took almost two hours to see the facility, and Doctor Schultz was generous with his information as they went. Between Chloe’s staff and the heads of department, Chloe felt as though they had an entourage of one hundred, when it was really only perhaps twenty or thirty people walking in their wake.
And with such attention and company, it took Chloe the full two hours before she could lean close enough to Doctor Schultz on the guise of examining a wall-chart, and murmur, “Is it possible to speak privately with you, sir?”
His eyes jerked to hers, showing surprise, but his nod was almost instant.