‘Rafael.’ Shrugging off his arms, she raised her hands to his face, brushing away the dark curls from his forehead, grazing her fingers against the ridge of the scar. ‘Listen to me.’
He had no option now but to meet her gaze, see that what she was saying was the truth. ‘You were not responsible for Seraphina’s death. Do you hear me?’
‘But if I had taken you to the hospital in Milan... They had better equipment there—they might have saved her...’
‘It was a much longer journey, Rafe. I might have given birth in the helicopter, and even if I hadn’t Seraphina would almost certainly have died. She was just too premature, Rafe. Too tiny...too frail. You have to accept that. You did everything you could. But ultimately what happened was beyond your control.’ She gazed at his beautiful agonised face, desperate to take away the pain, to make him see that he wasn’t to blame. She lowered her voice gently. ‘Even you can’t control everything, you know, Rafe.’
‘That I do know.’ Rafael’s huff of acceptance finally released some of the tension and a smile touched his lips. ‘I can’t control my feelings for you. I tried to stop loving you, Lottie—Dio, how I tried. But no matter what you did, no matter how much I reminded myself that you had walked out on me, that you had never loved me, I couldn’t stop the love I had for you. And I hated myself for it.’
‘I’m so sorry...’
Rafael brought his lips down on hers for another silencing kiss. ‘No more sorries. No more regrets. We have made a mess of the past but now we have the whole of our future to put things right. And it starts here.’
He took hold of her hand and Lottie watched as he placed it on her abdomen, resting his own over the top. Then their eyes met again with the miraculous realisation. They were a family already: Rafael, Lottie and the baby. Everything was going to be fine.
The fire crackled and popped in celebration.
EPILOGUE
Last night Contessa Charlotte Revaldi, wife of Conte Rafael Revaldi, gave birth to a son, Valentine Rafael John, at Ospedale D’Aosta.
As the Conte di Monterrato arrived to visit mother and baby this morning he announced that they were both doing extremely well and that he and his wife couldn’t be more proud of their longed-for second child—a brother for Seraphina.
The couple’s first child tragically died three years ago after a premature birth. A steady stream of friends and well-wishers have been visiting the hospital all day, with flowers and gifts for the happy family.
PUTTING THE NEWSPAPER down on the hospital bed, Lottie looked across at Rafael, who was cradling their baby in his arms, rocking slightly from side to side as he gazed into his son’s sleeping face. They looked so right together, a perfect fit, with that small bundle of life snuggled against the powerfully muscled arms of his father. The present and the future. Lottie could already see the trouble they were going to cause her. And she couldn’t wait.
‘I meant to say, my mother rang this morning to congratulate us.’
‘Greta? That was nice of her.’
‘Yes, I was quite surprised, actually. I’d never really thought of her as granny material, but she seemed genuinely excited. She’s even talking about paying us a visit.’
‘I’ll have to practise my best behaviour.’ Rafael gave her a schoolboy grin over the top of the baby’s head, leaving Lottie in no doubt that her mother would be totally charmed by him.
‘And Alex, of course—she’s been on the phone, demanding photos of Valentine and all the gruesome birth details. I think I’ve managed to put her off the idea of ever having a baby.’
‘Some friend you are.’ Rafael laughed. ‘But, seriously, you were magnificent, Lottie. I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.’
‘That’s because I had you there with me. And I would do it a thousand times over—because look what we got.’ She tipped her head on one side.
‘I can’t stop looking.’ Rafael returned his gaze to his son and there was a tender pause. ‘I think he takes after you, you know—those beautiful wide eyes. And look at his tiny nose, and his lips, and his little ears.’