‘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.’
‘Well, I didn’t.’ Shaking her elbow free, Lottie defiantly glared back at him. ‘And for your information I actually managed perfectly fine until you started interfering.’
‘Right.’ Rafael matched her stare. ‘So it’s my fault, is it? My fault that you were hurtling towards the shore at sixty knots per hour?’
‘Yes—yes, it was.’ Lottie wasn’t going to back down. ‘You made me lose my concentration.’
‘Well, all I can say is it’s a good job I did. Your “concentration” was going to end up taking you to the bottom of the lake—along with a pile of fibreglass that had once been my boat.’
‘Don’t exaggerate.’ Tossing her head, Lottie turned to retrieve her bag from the seat of the damaged boat.
‘Where have you been, anyway?’
‘Just to do a little shopping.’
‘Why didn’t you answer my calls?’
Retrieving her phone from the bag, Lottie registered the seven missed calls. ‘I was driving, remember? Surely you know you shouldn’t use your phone when you are driving?’
She raised her eyebrows at him, all too aware, but not caring in the least, that she was seriously winding him up.
‘So, where is this shopping?’ Not that it mattered. But, needing the distraction, Rafael looked around and could see no evidence of it.
‘Here.’
Their eyes met over the chemist’s bag that Lottie slowly withdrew from her handbag and the world around them suddenly skidded to a halt.
‘Ah. I see.’
Silence hung heavily between them.
‘You are going to do it now?’ His voice seemed to come from a long way away, his eyes remaining fixed on the unremarkable bag.
Lottie nodded. ‘I guess so.’ She gave a throwaway laugh. ‘Now’s as good a time as any.’
There was another brief silence.
‘Buono.’
Brisk now, businesslike, Rafael took a step towards her and attempted to put an arm around her shoulder. But Lottie refused to respond and it ended up more like a manly pat on the back. Awkwardness pushed them apart again.
‘Come on, then.’ Clearing his throat, he tried again. ‘Let’s do this.’
* * *
Rafael was standing by the window, his back to her, when Lottie emerged from the bathroom. She was delicately holding the tester stick in front of her, as if it was made of plutonium, or something capable of destroying their lives.
‘How long?’ Turning, Rafael looked at her, then at it, the catch in his voice betraying his tension along with his shoulders, which were hitched unnaturally high.
‘It says up to three minutes.’
Lottie could barely speak. Sinking down on the bed, she tried to regulate her breathing—to breathe at all, in fact. She felt dizzy, her hands shaky and clammy as they gripped the plastic time bomb.
Crossing over to the bed, Rafael gently took the tester stick from her and placed it face-down on the table. He squatted beside her, taking her hands between his own, his warm strength pumping into her.
‘I want to say something to you, Lottie.’
Lottie didn’t want to hear it—not now, not ever, actually. She couldn’t face any more emotional trauma. This waiting was threatening to kill her, literally. She realised she couldn’t breathe any more and the room was starting to spin.