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‘Prince.’
‘Prince,’ she repeated. There was suddenly a huge lump in the middle of her throat. It could have been a mocking appellation, but from his shifty expression she guessed otherwise. It was the wry and wistful choice of a boy for his first dog. Drake had called his shambling, shabby, shock-haired goof ‘Prince’, and now at least something about the woolly hound would have the dignity that genetics had cruelly denied him.
She looked down to hide the sting of tears. Drake might act as if he had no desire for commitment, but the existence of Prince suggested that at some level he did want to establish emotional ties in his life. He may not choose to love, but he could and did love.
And if one love could force its way into his well-guarded heart, why not another?
‘I’m very sorry I hurt Prince,’ she said quietly. Would he ever be able to forgive her if she caused the death of his dog? ‘I should have been more careful.’
He didn’t rush to absolve her with soothing lies, but he did offer her comfort to ease her guilt. ‘So should he. He makes a sport of pretending to chase cars. He’s been knocked about before. It was an accident, Kate.’
He sounded fatalistic, but Kate knew better. He had simply internalised his fear. ‘I hope he’s all right.’
‘We’ll soon find out. The clinic is just up ahead.’
The white-coated vet who came out to greet them with a metal gurney was a tall, thin man about Drake’s age, with a long-suffering expression on his bright and humorous face. ‘You’re lucky I hadn’t gone out on rounds yet, Drake. At this rate I should get a royal warrant to stick on my door. What on earth has Prince done to himself now?’
‘Not him—me—’ Kate began, only to have her explanations pre-empted by Drake’s terse account as he lifted the whining dog onto the gurney. The vet’s friendly air didn’t dilute his brisk professionalism and he kept up his patter as he pushed the gurney through the doors and past the reception desk in the waiting room.
‘We’ll take him straight through to the surgery and I’ll assess whether he needs a scan. But we’ll start off with the cheap option.’ He cast a smile into Kate’s anxious face. ‘That’s me. Hands and eyes are a vet’s most valuable tools.’
‘I’ll be paying, so I don’t care how much it costs,’ she blurted. ‘Just do everything you can—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Drake said roughly, stroking the dog’s head. ‘I can afford any treatment he needs—just send the bill to me as usual, Ken.’
‘But—’
‘For God’s sake, Kate, stop making it such a drama. I don’t need your guilt money!’ he snapped as they paused for the vet to open the surgery door.
Kate’s hand fell away from the gurney. She knew it was fear making him lash out, but it still hurt to hear him declare he wanted nothing from her, and she had to steady herself against the wall.
‘Are you all right?’ said the vet, his eyes suddenly sharp on her pale face.
She stared at the name badge pinned to his coat as she fought for composure.
‘Ken Cartwright B.V.Sc.’ the black lettering said as it moved briefly in and out of focus, making her feel as if she were standing on shifting ground. ‘I’m just a little dizzy,’ she excused herself.
‘She threw up before we left,’ added Drake unnecessarily.
Ken’s sharp gaze became speculative as it ran over her from head to toe. Oh, God, she hoped that vets didn’t have any special instinct for detecting early pregnancy in humans!
‘Perhaps you should sit down for a few minutes—Christy!’ Ken called out to his receptionist. ‘Would you get a glass of water for Kate here, while Drake and I see to Prince?’
‘Oh, really, I’m fine…’ she murmured, but Ken was already disappearing into his surgery with the gurney, while Drake hesitated outside.
Kate braced herself, but when he frowned it wasn’t to issue another rejection. ‘Are you sure it’s only dizziness? Are you feeling sick again?’ He glanced restlessly over his shoulder at the closed door and back at Kate, his eyes black with inner turmoil, clearly torn.
Drake never vacillated. He always knew what his priorities were and was never afraid to make harsh decisions.
‘Go,’ she urged, freeing him from his agony of choice. ‘I don’t need you—Prince does. Go and find out what’s happening to your dog.’ And when he still hesitated, she gave him a physical push. ‘For God’s sake, go! I have to go to the bathroom, anyway, so there’s no point in your hanging around here. Go!’
And having given him the freedom to follow his heart, she went off to find her glass of water and have a short, but deeply satisfying cry in the toilet cubicle, under the beady eyes of six fat hamsters crowded onto the veterinary products calendar on the back of the door.
CHAPTER SIX
IT SEEMED an age, but it probably wasn’t much more than twenty minutes before Drake came back out into the waiting area.
Kate took one look at his shuttered expression and dry eyes and her heart sank. His body seemed tautly bunched under the woven cotton shirt and stonewashed jeans, simmering with unexploded tension, his mouth hard enough to chew nails.
