‘Despite the way you went about securing my services, I’ve agreed to care for your son and I would never, ever let my—er—relationship …’ damn, that was the wrong word, but it was too late now to find a better one ‘… with a parent affect the way I treat a patient.’ And that was true. Even if she’d never felt like kicking someone before.
His smile was catlike. ‘At least we understand each other.’
Colleen let her breath out slowly, willing her heart rate to return to normal. ‘Okay, now that that’s out of the way, shall we get on?’
Daniel looked at his watch. ‘It’s okay, Burton, I can manage from here.’ He turned his gaze back to Colleen. She’d forgotten just how green those penetrating eyes of his were—even when he was frowning. ‘I can give you ten minutes. Follow me. Harry’s bedroom is on the second floor.’
Colleen remained silent for the rest of the way up the curving stairs and along the carpeted hallway lined with old-fashioned portraits of stuffy men in uniforms and aristocratic women in evening dresses. Daniel threw open the very last room at the end of the long corridor.
‘This is Harry’s room,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’ve installed a hospital bed as you can see. You’re in the suite next door.’
Colleen glanced round, taking in the bare walls and almost-empty shelves. An electric wheelchair stood in front of the unlit fireplace. She walked over to the bookshelf and tilted her head to the side, reading the titles along the spines: Great Expectations
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