Paranoid, stupid and just plain wrong.
Because Melinda loved him.
She really, really loved him.
And she wanted this baby because it was his.
Right now she was vulnerable. Her real self, not hiding. And she needed him to be strong for her. Needed him. Wanted him. After all, when she’d thought she’d been calling Chloe, she’d rung his number. He was the one she’d needed.
He swallowed hard. ‘You’re not going to lose our baby.’ He hoped to hell she wasn’t. It all depended on whether she’d been infected by the bacterium and what stage the pregnancy was. ‘And you haven’t lost me either. I’m sorry. You gave me a hard time—but I’ve given you a hard time, too. We’re as bad as each other.’
‘I never meant to hurt you.’
‘And I never meant to hurt you.’
Again, he reached across to hold her hand. Her hand gripped his so tightly, she was close to cutting off his circulation, but he didn’t care. And he was glad that they were on a straight bit of road right now with no roundabouts or traffic lights ahead—because he would really, really resent having to loosen her hand to change gear.
‘It’s going to be all right,’ he promised softly. ‘And I’m going to be there with you every single step of the way.’
They made it to the hospital with five minutes to spare. Just enough time to get to the maternity department—and Dragan kept his arm round Melinda the whole time.
It was the first time she’d felt warm since her return to England.
Until they reached the maternity ward and Melinda saw the whiteboard with her name on it, in the column marked EMERGENCY. ‘Porca miseria!’ She clapped a hand to her mouth, sounding horrified.
‘It’s written up there because they’re expecting you in and I asked for an emergency scan,’ Dragan said quietly. ‘All it means is that you didn’t have a pre-booked routine appointment. There’s nothing to worry about, cara. I promise.’
He led her over to the reception desk, where one of the midwives was busy writing notes. ‘I’ve brought Melinda Fortesque for a scan and to see Mr Perron.’
The midwife looked up and smiled. ‘Have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.’
The wait seemed endless. And Melinda was still shaking even as the consultant came over and introduced himself, then took them into a small treatment room.
‘I understand you’re a vet,’ he said.
She nodded. ‘I didn’t know I was pregnant when I helped out with the lambing. It was a few weeks ago, and my boss tells me the farm’s been hit by EAE. We don’t know the cause yet, but as chlamydiosis is the most common…’ Her voice faded.
‘You’ve done the right thing in coming here,’ Mr Perron said. ‘I know it’s hard, but try not to worry. It’s pretty rare that women are affected by chlamydiosis, and even rarer that the baby’s affected—there are fewer than ten cases a year nowadays.’
‘Because people are aware of the risks.’
‘Even so. Try not to worry,’ he said gently. ‘And this is your doctor?’
‘Her partner,’ Dragan corrected.
‘Sorry.’ The consultant checked the notes. ‘Must be crossed wires. It’s down here that you’re her doctor.’
‘I’m a GP, yes,’ Dragan said, ‘but not Melinda’s. I just rang through to save time.’
Mr Perron nodded. ‘So you know what we’re going to do.’
‘Blood test and an ultrasound to give us some dates,’ Melinda said.
‘We’ll do the nasty bit first,’ Mr Perron said. ‘Can you make a fist for me, Ms Fortesque?’
‘Melinda.’
‘Melinda,’ he said with a smile, checking for access to a vein in her inner elbow. ‘Pump it for me…That’s good. Now, sharp scratch…’ She flinched, and he took the blood sample and then labelled it. ‘The results won’t be back for a couple of days, but do try not to worry. Have you had any flu-like symptoms at all?’
‘Nothing. No chills or fever, no cough, no headache.’
‘How about a sore throat or any joint pains?’ Mr Perron asked. At her shake of the head he added, ‘Any problems with bright light?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Sickness?’
Melinda dragged in a breath. ‘Oh, Dio. I thought it was morning sickness. And it’s only been this week.’
‘Then it probably is morning sickness, and it affects women in very different ways,’ he reassured her. ‘There’s no guarantee if you have morning sickness in one pregnancy you’ll have it in the next—and vice versa. Now, let’s have a look at the scan. Can you get onto the couch for me and bare your tummy?’
She did so, and Dragan sat next to her, holding her hand tightly.
‘I’m going to put some gel on your stomach—I’m afraid this is the portable scanner so the gel’s going to feel cold. The gel’s always warmer in the ultrasound department than it is here.’ He smiled at her. ‘Right. Then I’m going to stroke this over your abdomen—you might feel a little bit of pressure, but it shouldn’t hurt at all. Can you both see the screen?’
‘Yes,’ Dragan said.
‘And…Voilà.’
Dragan gazed in wonder at the screen.
Their baby.
Two arms, two legs, a head. Definitely alive and kicking. And he could see the heart beating.
Mr Perron did some measurements. Without even needing to look at a chart, he smiled. ‘I’d say from this you’re about ten weeks.’
‘And everything’s all right?’
‘Two arms, two legs, a head, a nicely beating heart.’ He moved the scanner round. ‘Your placenta’s in the right place, too, so nothing to worry about there.’
Dragan couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. A little life. Something he and Melinda had created. The beginning of their family. His fingers tightened round hers.
‘Could we…? Is it possible to have a picture, please?’ Melinda asked.
Mr Perron shook his head regretfully. ‘This is the portable scanner and it’s not hooked up to a printer. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until your dating scan. Unless…’ He paused. ‘Do you have a mobile phone?’
‘Yes, and I switched it off before we came into the hospital,’ Dragan said.
‘Does
