there are your kidneys, there’s the possibility of septicaemia…So you need treatment, Luka.’
‘You don’t know I’ve definitely got tetanus.’
Dragan had met Luka before and knew the man wasn’t being awkward just to be macho—the chances were that Luka was terrified of hospitals, and denying that anything was wrong with him meant he wouldn’t have to even consider the idea of going near one.
Georgina clearly thought the same, because she begged, ‘Make him see sense, Dr Lovak. Luka, if I lose you…’
Luka’s right hand reached out to grip hers. ‘You’re not going to lose me.’
‘Then you need treatment, Luka,’ Dragan said softly. ‘You need to go to hospital. For Georgina’s sake, if not your own.’
Luka shook his head. ‘I’m not going in an ambulance. They’re meat vans.’
‘You don’t have to go in an ambulance. I’ll take you myself,’ Dragan offered.
‘I hate hospitals.’
‘So do a lot of people. But you’ve got a three in five chance of dying if you don’t have treatment.’
‘Which gives me a two in five chance of being fine. Forty per cent’s reasonable odds,’ Luka said.
Dragan shook his head. ‘This is going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better. If it gets better.’
‘What does the treatment involve?’ Georgina asked.
‘I’m not going to lie about it. It involves needles. But you’ll need some antibodies against the bacteria, Luka—they’re called tetanus antitoxins. And some antibiotics, as well as something to stop your muscles going into spasm. This kind of treatment’s best done in hospital, where there’s a sterile environment.’
Luka scoffed. ‘You see it in the paper all the time, people going into hospitals and catching a superbug because the place isn’t clean.’
Luka’s caravan, although small, was absolutely spotless.
‘Often things make the news simply because they are news, not the norm. You need medical attention, Luka. Attention I can’t give you.’ Dragan sighed. ‘As well as the medication, they’re going to need to get plenty of protein into you and a lot of calories to fight the infection, so they’ll probably put you on a drip. Once the needle’s in, it doesn’t hurt, and it’s the best way to get the right fluids into you.’
‘So you’re saying I’ll have to stay in hospital?’ Luka’s eyes widened.
‘It won’t be for that long.’
‘No. No way. I belong here.’
He’d heard that before. Very recently. From someone just as stubborn.
Except she wasn’t here now.
‘I belong with the horses,’ Luka insisted.
‘Then the sooner we get you to hospital, the sooner we can get you back here with the horses again.’
Luka was silent for a long, long time. Only the way he gripped Georgina’s hand gave any clue to what was going on in his head. Finally, he looked at Dragan. ‘All right. I trust you.’
Melinda hadn’t. The thought skidded into Dragan’s mind before he could stop it. He pushed the idea away. Now wasn’t the time to start thinking about the way his life had been turned upside down. He had a duty to his patients. ‘Let’s go, then,’ he said quietly.
‘Can I come with you?’ Georgina asked.
‘Better not,’ Luka said. ‘Your dad will go mad. You’re not even supposed to be seeing me. And with your mum ill…She doesn’t need the stress of your dad in one of his moods.’
‘Dad’s just going to have to accept it,’ Georgina said, lifting her chin.
‘His daughter moving in with what he calls a “dirty bloody gyppo”?’ Luka shook his head. ‘Don’t push it, Georgie. You don’t break a horse by smashing its spirit. You get it to trust you and work with you as a partner, so you’re a team.’
‘And you think you can make Dad change his mind?’
‘It just takes time. Softly, softly. The more he gets to know me, the more he’ll realise that true Romanies aren’t thieves or liars or unclean—that he’s got the wrong idea.’
‘Dad never admits to being wrong.’
‘He will this time.’ Luka squeezed her hand. ‘I’m not going to kiss you. I don’t want you to get this. But everything’s going to be all right.’
The irony wasn’t lost on Dragan. It was the same situation as his own: Malcolm Somers, the owner of the riding stables, might just as well be the king of Contarini. Just like Melinda’s father, Malcolm Somers wasn’t going to want his daughter seeing someone he considered to be of inferior social status.
Whether Luka would be able to work a charm offensive on Malcolm and make the older man realise that there was no disgrace—that Luka was Georgina’s equal and would treat her with the love and respect she deserved—Dragan didn’t know. But he seriously doubted that he’d be able to do that with Melinda’s family. Which meant they’d cut her off. She’d be isolated from her family.
So he was going to have to do the right thing and let her go. Let her be what she was born to be: a princess.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DRAGAN wasn’t answering his phone. Melinda frowned. He’d probably left it at home while he took Bramble for a walk. Dio. She missed the dog pattering around. She missed holding Dragan’s hand while they strolled down to the cliffs. She missed Cornwall. And, oh, how she missed Dragan.
But soon she’d be home. And she couldn’t wait to see him. She quickly tapped in a message. On way home. Will call you from Newquay.
‘Your Highness, are you sure about this?’ the pilot asked when she boarded the small plane. ‘Your mother…’
She smiled at him. ‘Don’t worry. She’ll be angry with me, but I’ll make sure you won’t get into trouble. I just want to go home.’
The pilot gestured out towards the airfield. ‘Contarini is your home, Your Highness.’
She shook her head. ‘Not any more. Please, can we go?’
‘No, you jolly well can’t,’ a voice said from the doorway. ‘You’re supposed to say goodbye first.’
‘Rena! What are you doing here?’ Melinda asked, surprised to see her sister.
‘Just making sure you’re all right.’ Serena boarded the plane and sat next to her sister. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing? This isn’t…a…well…’
‘Fling?’ Melinda supplied.
