insurance didn’t cover acts of war. And there was nothing left of the boatyard. But I wasn’t going to let my family name be blackened, for people to say that Lovak Marine was bankrupt and defaulted on its debts.’
She could understand that. Honour was important to Dragan. And duty.
The thought pricked her conscience: she hadn’t exactly been a dutiful daughter, had she? Melinda Fortesque, MRCVS, had chosen the much lighter responsibilities of a village vet rather than helping to shoulder the burden of running the kingdom of Contarini. Some people would see that as absconding, avoiding what she’d been born to do. ‘So what did you do?’
‘I sold the land. Used the proceeds to settle the mortgage and the outstanding debts.’
‘And then you bought a ticket to England?’
He shook his head. ‘I didn’t have enough money after I’d paid the creditors, and our debtors were never going to be able to pay me what they owed. The debts had to be written off.’
Though he’d refused to let his family’s debts be written off. It wasn’t fair, Melinda thought. ‘So how did you get here?’
‘I bartered my way onto a ship—I would crew for them in exchange for my passage to England. And this country has been good to me, Melinda. The authorities let me stay. I had nothing—no proof of who I was, no proof that I had any qualifications in my homeland. I spent a year working as a waiter by day and studying for exams at night, until I had the qualifications I needed to study medicine.’
He’d worked his way up from nothing. Worked longer and harder than anyone else she knew. And her heart ached with pride in him. ‘You’re amazing,’ she said softly, stroking his face. ‘I don’t know anyone else who would have had the strength to do all that.’
He shrugged it off. ‘It wasn’t that big a deal.’
Yes, it was. ‘Some people, in your shoes, would be hard and bitter and never give anybody an inch. But you…you understand people. You care. Your family would be so proud of you. I’m proud of you.’
His dark eyes glittered, and he said nothing.
The strong, silent type. That was her Dragan. But now he’d opened up to her, she didn’t want him to close in on himself again. ‘So when you qualified, you came here?’ she asked.
‘I worked in London for a while. But I missed the sea. And then some friends brought me to Cornwall for the weekend. I fell in love with the area.’
‘Me, too.’
‘And I’m very, very glad I decided to stay. That I met you.’ He rested his forehead against hers. ‘I am sorry, piccola. I didn’t mean it to get this heavy. It’s not something I talk about.’
She could tell that. And how much it had stirred up his emotions. It was rare that his English slid from being perfectly accentless to having a strong Croatian accent. ‘But I hope talking to me helped,’ she said softly.
He brushed his mouth against hers. ‘So, zlato. You looked up Croatian phrases on the Internet, then?’
‘How else was I going to learn?’
‘You could have asked me.’
‘And you would have told me?’
He smiled. ‘Let me teach you something now. Volim te.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘The same as ti amo.’ He paused. ‘And I do. I love you, Melinda.’
It felt as if the room were full of butterflies, the sunlight dancing on their wings. Dragan loved her. And he loved her for who she was: Melinda Fortesque, country vet.
Then the butterflies went straight into her stomach. She really ought to tell him the rest of it. He’d told her everything, and she was holding out on him. But now really wasn’t the time or the place. And if she told him…would he stop loving her? Would he back away, feeling that she’d look down on him—even though she didn’t?
‘There was something else I wanted to say. But it’s too late for sunrise.’
‘Tell me anyway.’
‘I’ve never said this to anyone else. Ever.’
‘Now you’re worrying me.’ She kept her tone light, but fear flickered through her anyway. Had he found out about her family?
No, of course not. How could he possibly know?
But he looked so serious, so intense, that it scared her.
‘I wondered…’ And he tailed off.
No, no, no. She had to keep this light. Tease him out of seriousness. ‘Dragan Lovak, your English is perfect—if I didn’t know you came from Croatia, I’d think you were English. Please, don’t tell me you’re turning completely English on me and developing a stiff upper lip.’ She fiddled with his short dark hair. ‘And then this is going to go floppy and fall in your eyes. And you’re going to start saying “um” a lot.’
To her relief, he smiled. And the haunted look in his eyes lessened. ‘Hardly. And I’m never going to be posh anyway.’
Oh, Dio.
‘Nothing wrong with that. I like you just how you are.’ Now was definitely not the moment to tell him. Because if he was even the slightest bit worried about his background…the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was slumming it.
She’d have to work out the right way to tell him. But there was something else important he needed to know, something far more important than who she was: how she really felt about him. ‘Actually, “like” is probably the wrong word.’ She traced his lower lip with the pad of her forefinger. ‘Volim te, zlato. Ti amo, amore mio,’ she added in her own language.
‘Melinda…’ He paused. ‘No. It sounds wrong.’
‘Try me.’
He took a deep breath. ‘Move in with me.’
‘Move in with you?’ Now, that she hadn’t been expecting.
His eyes were very dark. ‘I told you it sounded wrong. Wrong time, wrong place.’ He grimaced. ‘I wanted to ask you somewhere romantic. “Come live with me and be my love”,’ that sort of thing.’
‘You want me to live with you.’
‘Not just live with me. I thought maybe we could go and talk to Reverend Kenner.’.
She blinked as what he’d just said sank in. ‘You’re asking me to marry you?’
‘If we’d done this my way,’ he pointed out, ‘it’d be somewhere romantic. Not on my bed-of-nails sofa.’
‘If we’d done this your way, it’d be at the crack of dawn and I wouldn’t have had enough coffee to be awake enough to answer you.’
‘So
