Brides of Penhally Bay - Vol 2

by Various Authors

  She paused and looked straight at him.

  He knew what she was waiting for. And how he wanted to tell her that he loved her all the way back. That, yes, he felt hurt and angry and betrayed that she’d kept the truth from him, but they’d work it out together because he loved her.

  But he had to do the right thing. Which meant denying it.

  ‘I can’t forgive you for keeping me in the dark—for agreeing to marry me when you know it can’t happen.’

  ‘Yes, it can.’

  How? They were worlds apart. And Melinda was destined to rule her country. ‘Marry me, and you’ll cut yourself off from your family.’

  She raked a hand through her hair. ‘Dragan, I know family’s important to you. I know you miss yours. And if mine were even the slightest bit how you described yours to me, there wouldn’t be a problem. But they’re not. And I’ve barely been back to Contarini since I came to England to study veterinary science. My parents didn’t even come to my graduation. That’s how close we are. So cutting myself off…’ She shrugged. ‘There’s nothing to cut off. My sister’s the only one I’m close to, and I don’t really fit into her social circle either.’ There was the tiniest sparkle in her eye. ‘Though she liked your picture in the paper. And she told me to follow my heart.’

  Follow your heart. Good advice. Except…sometimes you had to put your duty first. Melinda’s father was ill and needed to retire. Her family needed her—and in his eyes family should always come first. He knew she was planning to put him before her duty—which was wrong, wrong, wrong. Whereas if she thought there was nothing for her here, it might make it easier for her to leave. To go back and do the right thing.

  For her sake, he was going to have to say something that hurt him bone-deep. ‘We’re not getting married,’ he said. ‘It’s over.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘No. You don’t mean that. Please, Dragan. Tell me you don’t mean it.’

  ‘I can’t marry someone who doesn’t trust me. Someone I don’t trust any more.’

  ‘But, Drag—’

  ‘It’s over,’ he said, not looking into her eyes because he didn’t trust himself not to crumble. ‘I’m sorry. You’d better leave through the back door—there are paparazzi out the front.’

  She stared at him for a long, long moment.

  Then she left the room. Closed the French doors behind her.

  And Dragan discovered that the pain he’d known as a teenager, when he’d lost his family, had just come back. With a vengeance.

  CHAPTER NINE

  YEARS of training let Melinda walk down the little alley at the back of Dragan’s house and through to the other side of Harbour Road with her back straight and her expression neutral. Even though she wanted to bawl her eyes out, she made absolutely sure that the paparazzi couldn’t detect her thoughts—no way was she going to let them have a picture they could use with a speculative caption.

  But the second she was back in her flat with the door closed behind her, she slid down the wall to the floor, drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms tightly round herself.

  It was all over.

  Dragan had called off the wedding.

  Now he knew who she was, he didn’t want to know—her worst nightmare had just come true.

  As she’d told him, if you were royal and you made a mistake, it would be all over the papers. Talked about. And just when people had started to forget, the whole thing would suddenly blow up again. It would go on and on and on.

  She could see the headlines now. DR LOVE-AK DUMPS PRINCESS

  About the only people who’d be pleased about it were her parents.

  But it didn’t change things. Even if Dragan didn’t want her, she still had a life here in Cornwall. And she wasn’t going back to rule Contarini.

  ‘Backbone,’ she reminded herself. ‘Keep it straight.’ Like a princess. And she was well aware of the irony.

  She picked up the phone and dialled her boss. This was another call that was way overdue. Someone else she’d lied to by omission. ‘George? It’s Melinda.’

  ‘How are you, love?’ he asked.

  My heart’s just cracked right down the middle. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. How could he be so nice to her when she’d behaved so badly? ‘And, George, I’m really sorry that you’ve had a hard time from the press.’

  He laughed. ‘Once they realised that the only time I’d talk to them was with my arm up a cow’s backside and plenty of manure around, it rather put them off.’

  ‘Even so. I’m sorry. I really should have told you who I was. As my boss, you had a right to know.’

  ‘You had your reasons.’

  She had.

  Her boss was a damn sight more understanding about it than the love of her life had been. But, please, don’t let this princess business have wrecked her job, the way it had wrecked her relationship with Dragan. Dragan hadn’t even been able to look at her; he’d never be able to forgive her for hiding the truth from him. For not trusting him when she should have done. ‘Do I still have a job?’ she asked in a small voice.

  ‘Of course you do. Being a princess doesn’t get you out of your job without at least a month’s notice, you know.’

  His tone was light and teasing, but she could hear the warmth and concern in his voice and it hurt. Because right now she felt so alone. So isolated. So empty.

  ‘Then I can come back to the surgery tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Bright and early, usual time,’ he said. ‘You’ll be pleased to know Cassidy’s ready to go home tomorrow and he’s back on his usual diet. We had a bit of a scare with him while you were away, but Jake sorted us out. He’s a good contact to have for exotics. Well done, you.’

  ‘I didn’t exactly do much.’ She’d brought the parrot into the surgery—and then she’d abandoned him along with the rest of her job and caught the next flight to London. Some vet she was.

  ‘You treated the bird before he was too far gone to help. If you’d left it until the morning, he wouldn’t have made it and Violet would have a broken heart. Don’t do yourself down, love.’ He paused. ‘Or should I call you Your Highness from now on?’

  She strove for lightness. ‘Melinda will do just fine.’

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then, love.’

  ‘See you tomorrow, George. And thank you.’ She cut the connection, replaced the phone, took an apple from her fruitbowl and headed down into the practice.

  Cassidy perked up as soon as he saw her. ‘’Ow do, m’dear?’

  ‘Pretty rubbish, actually,’ she told him.

  The parrot swore a blue streak, and she smiled wryly. ‘Saves me doing it, I suppose. But I was meant to be teaching you something nice.’ She made a kissing noise. ‘Ti amo, tesoro.’

  The bird responded with something pithy.

  She cut him a piece of apple with a scalpel and fed it to him. ‘Ti amo, tesoro.’

  This time there was no response at all.

  She checked that he had enough water, scratched his poll just the way he liked it—and clearly he’d picked how to purr like a cat since he’d been in the surgery—then walked out of the room. As she turned off the light, she heard a very quiet kissing sound. ‘Ti amo, tesoro,’ Cassidy informed her.

  Something Dragan would never say to her again.

  And somehow she had to learn to live with it.

  Kate walked through the door of the practice a moment after Dragan the following morning. She looked hot and bothered, although she didn’t appear to be out of breath; he had a feeling that her high colour was due to anger rather than rushing. ‘What’s up, Kate?’ he asked.

  Kate pulled a face. ‘Nick and that wretched clippy-clop woman.’

  ‘Clippy-clop?’ Dragan asked, mystified.

  ‘The one who thinks it’s practical to wear high-heeled mules in a Cornish seaside village.’ Her scowl deepened. ‘Horrible woman. She dresses at least fifteen years too young, too. Nick must be going through the male menopause to think it makes him look you
ng, having her on his arm. Maybe she looks young from a distance—but up close you can see she’s trowelled on her make-up to cover up the lines.’

  Nick had never, ever heard Kate make a bitchy remark about anyone; their former practice manager, who’d recently done a refresher course and returned to the practice as a midwife, was always calm and unflappable and friendly. He stared at her in surprise. ‘What did she do?’

  ‘Oh, nothing. Just made some stupid remark about Jem’s name, and I shouldn’t let her get to me.’ She flapped a hand. ‘I was just taking Jem to meet Mum in the café—it’s the school holidays and she’s looking after him while I’m here this morning—when we bumped into them outside the post office. She couldn’t have got much closer to Nick if she’d stripped off the little she was wearing.’

  Kate wasn’t normally that vehement or judgemental; then again, she was very protective of her son. Which didn’t surprise Dragan that much, as she was a single parent and Jem was all she had. ‘Natasha’s staying in the holiday cottage next to me,’ he remarked.

  Kate rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, don’t tell me you think she’s gorgeous, too.’

  ‘No,’ Dragan said mildly.

  ‘Good. At least one of the men around here has some common sense, then.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on Nick. He has his faults but he has a good heart.’

  Kate pulled a face. ‘Well, at the moment he’s acting like an idiot.’

  There was much more to this than met the eye, Dragan was sure, but he didn’t push it. He hated people interfering in his life, so he’d give Kate the space she clearly needed.

  Kate grimaced again. ‘Hazel, I’m sorry I’m late. Give me three minutes and I’ll be ready.’ She patted Dragan’s arm. ‘Sorry for being grouchy. Are you all right? Those photographers must be making your life hell.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll survive.’

  ‘Well, if you need to escape, you know where I am.’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘And then the headlines will no doubt claim I’m cheating on Melinda with you. Thanks for the support, Kate, and I really appreciate the offer—but I’m not going to put you or Jem through that.’

  ‘With any luck they’ll find someone else to bother soon.’

  ‘With any luck,’ he agreed. But he knew it was going to run for a bit longer yet—and either way he was going to come out of this badly. Either the papers would denounce him as the love rat who’d dumped the princess, or they’d denounce him as the loser who wasn’t good enough for the princess and she’d dumped him.

  He managed to get through the morning’s calls, deflecting all speculation and questions with a smile and bringing the conversations right back to his patients’ health worries, but in the afternoon he was called out to Mrs Harris, a neighbour of the Chamberlains.

  ‘I was cycling home from my friend’s when I saw her milk was still out on the front doorstep. So I went round the back and found her,’ Tina explained. ‘She’s fallen and she says her leg hurts.’

  ‘Don’t move her,’ Dragan said. ‘But get a blanket and put it over her to help keep her warm. I’m on my way.’ Mrs Harris was one of his patients, and he knew she had osteoporosis. The chances were she’d cracked at least one bone and she’d need X-rays and hospital treatment. St Piran Hospital was a half-hour drive away; although he could drive her there himself, given her condition it would risk making her injuries worse, and she’d find the ambulance much more comfortable. He rang through to the ambulance station and explained the situation, agreeing to call them from her house if her injuries weren’t as severe as he expected.

  But the examination confirmed his worst fears. ‘You’ve broken your hip,’ he said gently. ‘I’m going to give you some pain relief now, but you need to be treated in St Piran.’ And, given her osteoporosis, fixing the fracture could turn out to be a real problem. Not that he was going to worry her about this now. ‘An ambulance is on its way.’

  ‘Hospital? But I can’t! What’ll happen to Smoky?’

  The cat—which was almost as elderly as Mrs Harris—was sitting in her basket. She lifted her head on hearing her name and miaowed softly.

  ‘We could take her in and look after her until you’re home again,’ Tina suggested.

  ‘That’s sweet of you, love, but she’s terrified of dogs. No, I’ll have to stay with her.’

  ‘You need to go to hospital, Mrs Harris,’ Dragan said gently. ‘You need specialist treatment, something I can’t do for you here.’

  ‘I can’t leave Smoky,’ Mrs Harris said stubbornly.

  ‘Leave this with me,’ Tina said, and pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket.

  Dragan assumed she was going to call one of her friends and concentrated on treating Mrs Harris, examining her to make sure he hadn’t missed any complications and to make sure she wasn’t going into shock from loss of blood, then giving her pain relief.

  It was only when the door opened and he heard a soft voice saying, ‘Hello, Mrs Harris. Now, Smoky, shall we reassure your mum that we can find you somewhere nice to stay while she’s in hospital?’ that he realised who Tina had called.

  Melinda.

  Every nerve-end was aware of her. And how desperately he wanted to hold her close.

  He glanced up. ‘Ms Fortesque,’ he said, as coolly as he could.

  ‘Dr Lovak,’ she responded, her tone equally cool.

  She scooped up the cat and sat on the floor with Smoky on her lap, near enough for Mrs Harris to be able to touch her cat.

  Yet more proof of why she was a brilliant vet. She understood her patients and their owners and she was sympathetic to both. When she left to rule Contarini, she’d leave a huge hole behind in the community as well as in his heart.

  ‘How long will you need to stay in hospital?’ Melinda asked.

  ‘Dr Lovak says it depends on how long it takes to heal,’ Mrs Harris said, her voice slightly shaky. ‘Am I going to be stuck on a bed in traction?’

  ‘Not with your hip—it’s usually treated by an operation,’ Dragan said. ‘The ambulance is already on its way, and they’ll take you to the emergency department at St Piran. They’ll give you an X-ray to see what the break looks like, and then they’ll decide how best to treat it. They might put a special pin in your thigh bone to fix it, or they might have to replace the head of your thigh bone with a special metal head. Or if the break is very bad, they might need to replace your hip completely. But they’ll get you up on your feet again as soon as possible, walking with a frame, and as soon as they think you’re able to look after yourself, they’ll let you come home again.’

  ‘They won’t put me in a home?’ Mrs Harris bit her lip. ‘Nursing homes don’t take pets, and I can’t be without my Smoky.’

  Dragan took her hand. ‘They won’t put you in a home,’ he said. ‘The occupational health people will come out to see you, but not to put you in a home—they’ll want to see what help they can give you to make life easier, especially while you’re recovering. They can fit rails and change the height of your chair to make it easier for you to get out of it.’ They’d also check the flooring and the layout of the house to reduce the risk of her falling again, Dragan knew. The important thing was to make sure that Mrs Harris didn’t lose any of her confidence or independence; they didn’t want her ending up trapped in the house. ‘And Lauren from the practice will come and see you about physiotherapy to help you get your leg working properly again.’

  ‘Lauren’s lovely—she’s really kind. And don’t worry about Smoky,’ Melinda said. ‘I know several people who don’t have dogs who would be able to look after her for you until you’re back.’

  ‘And I can come in and help you with Smoky when you’re home again,’ Tina said. ‘Mum and I will keep an eye on your bungalow until you’re home, and I’ll call the milkman and sort everything out for you.’

  ‘And I’ll take pictures of Smoky in her holiday home and bring them to show you in hospital. That’s the difference between Penhally and the city,’ Me
linda said, giving Dragan a speaking look. ‘People here care about others.’

  That one had been aimed specifically at him, he knew.

  He cared all right.

  But he was trying to do the right thing for Melinda’s family. Putting her before his own wants.

  Determined not to rise to the bait, he concentrated on reassuring Mrs Harris until the ambulance arrived, then gave a handover to the crew, telling them what he’d given her and advising them about her osteoporosis.

  Tina locked up. ‘I’d better get back, or Mum’ll be worrying about me.’

  ‘Thanks for all your help,’ Dragan said. ‘You were brilliant.’

  ‘And I’ll let you know about Smoky,’ Melinda said, gently putting the cat into a travelling basket.

  And then it was just the two of them.

  There were dark shadows under her eyes. She’d clearly slept as badly as he had last night. ‘How are you?’ he asked.

  ‘I feel as bad as you look.’

  Straight and to the point. That was his Melinda.

  Except she couldn’t be his Melinda any more. ‘I’m perfectly fine,’ he lied.

  ‘You are such a liar.’

  He coughed. ‘Isn’t that the proverbial pot calling the kettle black?’

  ‘I’ve already apologised for that. It was wrong of me not to tell you the truth. But what you’re doing right now is just as wrong. Dragan, you know we’re right together. I love you and I know you love me. Why torture us like this?’

  ‘Because,’ he said, ‘sometimes you have to put your duty first.’

  She shook her head. ‘My future is with you, not in Contarini.’

  ‘And your family? You’re just going to abandon them when they need you?’

  ‘No. There’s a way through all this. We just have to find it.’ She bit her lip. ‘So what do I tell the press? They’re expecting an official statement.’

  ‘Tell them you’re going back to Contarini.’

  ‘No.’ She looked exasperated. ‘Dragan, I love you, but right now you’re driving me crazy. The best way for me to protect you from the press is to give them a statement, otherwise they’re going to keep following you and hounding you until you crack.’