Chapter Three
HAYLEY held a packet of frozen peas against the little girl’s leg, watching as Patrick soothed the child.
He was calm and concerned, his fingers gentle as he checked the joint. ‘She’s all right, Alfie—no permanent damage.’
Alfie was hovering anxiously. ‘She banged herself really hard, Dad.’
‘I’m sure she’ll have a bruise, but nothing more.’
Hayley wondered whether she should borrow the frozen peas for her own bruises. Not the external ones—those would heal by themselves—but the internal ones. The ones caused by the realisation that their steamy night had been nothing more than sex for him.
It hadn’t been a romantic encounter.
It hadn’t been special, or earth-shattering.
It had simply been an opportunity for him to do what any red-bloode
d male would do in the same circumstances.
What had he said?
For one night I was a man, not a father.
But now he was a father again. And you didn’t need a degree in psychology to see that his role as a parent was his first priority.
Hayley was trying really hard to hate him but it was impossible. How did you hate a man who clearly cared for his children so much? She found herself wondering exactly what had happened with his wife. If she were lucky enough to be married to a man like Patrick, she would have found a way to make the marriage work.
‘How’s that leg, Posy?’ He stroked his daughter’s hair gently and she buried her face in his chest.
‘Uncle Daniel fix it.’
Patrick gave an amused smile. ‘There isn’t anything for
him to fix. You’ll be fine.’ Catching Hayley’s questioning look, he offered an explanation. ‘My twin brother is a consultant in the accident and emergency department.’
‘You have a twin? Identical?’
‘We look similar but that’s where the resemblance ends.’
‘That’s not true.’ Alfie dived in. ‘You both have big muscles. And you were both in the mountain rescue team.’
Patrick shifted Posy slightly. ‘That’s right. We were.’
‘You could still do it.’ Alfie picked up Posy’s velvet comforter and sneaked it into his sister’s hand. ‘We wouldn’t mind, would we, Pose? We’d be OK here. I’m almost old enough to look after you.’
Posy grinned at her brother but showed no sign of relinquishing her grip on her dad. There was something about the sight of the young child clinging to her father that brought a lump to Hayley’s throat.
Oh, great.
She was going to embarrass herself yet again.
And just because the guy was patient and kind to his daughter. Really, she needed to get out more.
So he was good with kids—so what?
Plenty of men were good with kids.
It was just that Patrick managed to do it in a way that didn’t diminish his masculinity. His hands were firm. Sure. He had a quiet confidence that soothed the child as much as his calm voice.