Angels In The Snow. Sarah Morgan
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Only with Stella there was no control. And there never had been.
Sliding his hand over his face, he muttered a black oath.
Nothing had changed between them. Except that they were no longer together.
Dwelling on that uncomfortable truth, Daniel glanced up to see his brother standing in the doorway. ‘What are you doing here? Is someone giving birth in my department?’
‘No. I have some news. And I need a favour.’ Patrick frowned at him. ‘You look as though you’re in a filthy mood. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ Somehow Daniel couldn’t bring himself to confess his thoughts about Stella. He waited while his brother sprawled in the only armchair in his office. ‘You don’t look so good yourself.’
‘Tired.’ Patrick closed his eyes and Daniel frowned slightly.
‘Is it the job or the kids?’ Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel surveyed his desk, barely visible beneath the piles of files and papers that people wanted him to read. For a brief moment he wondered what would happen if he just tipped the lot into the bin. Would anyone notice? He didn’t have time to deal with any of it all anyway, so it may as well be in the bin. His computer was telling him that he had seventy-two new messages in his inbox and he stifled the temptation to just switch the thing off at the mains. ‘What’s the problem?’ Apart from the fact your wife left you with two little kids.
‘I’m knackered.’ His brother opened his eyes briefly. ‘If the labour ward rings, you haven’t seen me.’
‘That bad, huh?’ Daniel gave a sympathetic grin and transferred the files on his desk to the floor. ‘Busy night?’
‘Not particularly.’ His brother’s eyes drifted shut again. ‘But I didn’t get any sleep, thanks to a certain woman in my life.’
Daniel gave a slow smile of masculine approval. ‘Now, that is good news. I’ve been telling you for months that it’s time for you to get out there again. Tell me that she was incredible in bed, cooks like an angel and is dying to take on a single dad with two small children who spends most of his waking hours working.’
Patrick opened his eyes. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘The woman you spent last night with—I want the details. Blonde? Brunette? Redhead? God, I love redheads. My lawyer is a redhead.’
‘You always preferred blondes.’
‘Well, now I prefer redheads. Very dominant and assertive.’ Omitting to mention that he couldn’t help comparing every blonde to Stella, Daniel noticed more emails fly into his inbox and swivelled the chair so that he could no longer see the screen. ‘And we were talking about you, not me. Why don’t we grab a beer after work and you can give me the details?’
‘Can’t. I need to get home. And there isn’t a woman. At least, not the sort that you mean.’ Patrick ran a hand over his face. ‘It was Posy who kept me awake. I was talking about Posy.’
The smile left Daniel’s face. ‘You’re exhausted because of your three-year-old daughter?’
‘That’s right.’ Patrick’s eyes closed again and his head dropped back against the chair. ‘I don’t know whether she’s teething or whether she has a cold coming but she’s really fractious at the moment. In the end she slept in my bed and it was hell. She always lies horizontally so her feet are in my—’
‘You know what?’ Daniel lifted a hand as he interrupted him. ‘This is too much detail. I honestly don’t need to know about the sleeping patterns of a three-year-old.’
Patrick was silent for a moment and then he opened his eyes and looked straight at his brother. ‘You’re very fond of Posy. And of Alfie.’
‘Of course I am.’ Daniel waved a hand. ‘I’m a doting uncle. The job description for doting uncle is that I smother them with extravagant gifts on various important dates like birthdays and Christmas and as they grow up I take them on the odd climbing expedition and for rides in my fast sports car to impress their friends.’
Patrick was silent for a moment and it seemed to Daniel that his twin brother looked more exhausted than he’d ever seen him.
‘You need some time away.’
Patrick gave a nod. ‘That’s what I’m planning.’
‘You are? Without the kids? Perfect. What’s the plan?’
‘Do you remember that lecture I gave in Chicago? Well, they’ve offered me a job. Part clinical–part academic. It would give me more time at home with the kids—’
‘A job in Chicago?’ Daniel frowned slightly, unsure how he felt about his brother relocating to the States. ‘You’re considering that?’
‘I thought it was worth a look. They want me to come across and meet them. Look around, interview …’ Patrick shrugged. ‘You know the score.’
‘Great. Go for it. Fresh start. Well, at least go and talk to them.’
‘I’d like to. And that brings me to the favour I need.’
‘Of course. I know your sweet ex-wife cost you a fortune. I don’t know how you’ve coped.’ Even when Patrick’s petulant, moody wife had finally stopped having tantrums and left him and the children, his brother had just gritted his teeth and got on with his life. He’d shifted his workload so that he could continue in his role as obs and gynae consultant and still spend time at home with the children. Daniel reached for his chequebook. ‘How much?’
‘I don’t need money. Money isn’t my problem. I need a different sort of favour.’
‘Name it.’ Daniel thought of the hell that his brother had been through since his wife had left and waved a hand expressively. ‘Anything. What do you need? A lift to the airport?’
‘I need you to look after the kids.’
‘What?’ Daniel stared at him with undisguised horror. ‘You have to be kidding. No. Absolutely no.’
‘You said anything.’
‘Anything but that.’ Daniel launched himself out of his chair, knocking pens and papers onto the floor. ‘Why would you even ask me that? I’m the last person in the world that any sane person would want looking after their kids. I’m terrible with kids. That’s why I don’t have any of my own.’
‘You’re my family. And you’re their family.’
‘That’s no reason to punish them! Or me.’ Daniel felt panic mingle with guilt. ‘Don’t ask me to do this, Ric.’
‘I’m asking. And it isn’t a punishment for the kids. They love you. You’ve been a constant in their lives since they were born.’
Nervous now, Daniel paced around his office. ‘From a distance. I told you, I do the fun stuff. I don’t do any of the nitty-gritty