200 Harley Street: Girl from the Red Carpet

For a second he was confused. ‘Go where?’

She shot him a dazzling smile. ‘Home. I’m going to take you home.’

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_22a88ada-5925-5154-bc45-cdd278616a54)

SHE WAS TRYING not to show her nerves. Trying to pretend that this was an everyday occurrence.

But Iain McKenzie wasn’t helping. His brow was wrinkled, deep furrowed wrinkles that marred his handsome complexion.

She leaned forward and grabbed hold of one his hands, bending down in front of him. ‘Iain, I’m worried about you. You spent hours in surgery today, then you spent another few hours avoiding me, and now I catch you here …’ she held up her other hand ‘… fast asleep in another office.’ She looked up into his face, seeing tiny lines of exhaustion around his eyes that instantly tugged at her heart. ‘It’s not good, Iain. You are one of our greatest assets. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t take you home.’

The confused and uptight expression on his face relaxed a little. Oh, no. What had he thought she’d meant?

She patted his hand. It was meant to be reassuring, motherly. But it wasn’t working for her, and she doubted it was working for him. It was only making her sluggish veins pick up tempo and send the blood flowing more quickly back to her heart.

The long day had obviously caused her brain to become fuddled. The sooner she got Iain McKenzie home safely the better.

He stood up next to her and she was instantly swamped by his large athletic frame. ‘Don’t be silly, Lexi. You’re not going to drive me home. My car is down the street. I’ll go and get it.’

That accent. That Scottish burr sent shivers down her spine. She could happily listen to it all day. And she could bet that potential clients could too. She had to persuade him to take part in the publicity campaign. Iain was pure gold.

It was time for a firm approach. ‘Iain, I meant what I said. From what I can gather, you’ve put in a sixteen-hour day so far. You were sleeping soundly before I disturbed you.’ Then she wrinkled her nose. ‘And, truth be told, I’d already staked out your car. It looks as if it’s got a flat. There’s no way you’re changing that at this time of night.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Not in the dark anyway, with those surgeon’s hands. How much are they worth?’

She saw his shoulders sag a little and it gave her a spurt of hope. Maybe tomorrow he could forgive her little white lie? In the meantime, she had to use her best tactics to persuade him to take part in the publicity.

He gave his forehead another rub and arched his back. ‘Okay, Lexi. Thanks for the offer. I guess spending the night in the clinic isn’t ideal.’ He bent over and picked up his jacket, which was lying across a chair, then held the door open for her.

She gave a little nod, straightened her blouse and jacket and slipped her feet back into her shoes. It only took a few minutes to reach her car, which she’d moved near the clinic entrance.

He nodded in approval. ‘Sports car? Nice, Lexi. Did you pick this yourself?’

She gave an embarrassed shake of her head as she pressed the button to open the doors. ‘Not exactly. It was a birthday present.’

He let out a sigh as he sat down in the passenger seat, folding his long legs into the small footwell. ‘That’s some birthday present. From a man?’

The question hung in the air between them. Was he curious about her love life, or was he just making small talk? The air in the car seemed to instantly close around them as she slammed her door. Iain McKenzie was a big man in the small space. The sleeve of his jacket was brushing against hers.

Her brain was ready to drift back to the office. To the feel of the hard planes of his chest against her firm breasts.

She pushed the gearstick into reverse and looked at him sideways. ‘The car was from my father. I’d like to think he spent hours thinking about it, but the reality is his PA probably picked the make, model and colour and all he had to do was sign the cheque.’

She pulled out into the street. It was practically empty at this time in the morning and her natural instinct was to floor it. Talking about her parents brought out the worst in her.

Iain surprised her. He let out a deep, hearty laugh. She glanced over, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

‘So you’re a cynic, then, Lexi Robbins. I never had you down for that. I thought you lived a remarkably charmed life.’

Her instant reaction was to bristle and put him promptly in his place. But this was her chance to work on him—not alienate him. Plus with that face she was still curious as to why a man as hard working and good looking as Iain didn’t have someone to rush home to. Why on earth would anyone like him want to sleep at the clinic? It just didn’t make sense.

‘I know you’ve been avoiding me. I’m not an idiot, you know.’

‘I’m sorry. I just don’t have the time. And to be honest, I can’t really see the point. Get someone else to do it. Someone who likes a bit of the limelight on them.’

‘Like who, Ethan?’

She let the question hang in the air. If Iain was prickly then Ethan Hunter was a floating underwater mine.

A former soldier, who was still recuperating from an injury he really refused to acknowledge. His heart was in the right place and he was committed to all the charity work the clinic was involved in—most of it he’d referred himself. But putting Ethan on screen for the clinic’s publicity would be a complete no-no. She’d already tried to interview him twice with no success. Ethan just wasn’t a people person.

Whatever had happened in his past meant he just wasn’t ready for this kind of thing, and Lexi knew enough about people to know when to leave it alone. Hence her relentless pursuit of Iain. He was her current golden goose—whether he liked it or not.

Iain eventually let out a long sigh. ‘Okay. Agreed, Ethan probably isn’t the best person right now. He asked me to be involved in his charity work and obviously I agreed—who wouldn’t? I can make a real difference to some of those patients’ lives. I’m happy to help. I’m happy to give up my time and do the surgery free. It’s just the rest of the stuff I don’t like so much.’

Lexi lifted her hands off the steering-wheel of the car and made quote marks with her fingers in the air. ‘You mean the “rest of the stuff” like me?’

Iain ran his fingers through his dark hair. It was obvious he was tired and she was putting him on the spot. But maybe, just maybe, in a moment of weakness he would relent and agree to what she wanted.

She indicated and turned the car into the nearest street. It would only be a few more minutes before they reached Iain’s townhouse. It was time to turn the screw. ‘I don’t think you understand how hard I’m working at all this, Iain. You might do the surgery for free, but what about everything else? We need to pay for theatre time, equipment use, other staff salaries and all the aftercare. We need the publicity to raise funds for all other aspects of the charity work. These interviews are really important.

‘Leo has just agreed to take on another charity for one of his friends. Did he talk to you about Fair Go—Olivia Fairchild’s charity? She’s doing some stellar work in Africa. There are children out there who really need our help. Kids who’ve been victims of the violence—victims of war. The kind of kids who fall through the cracks. Their conditions aren’t life-threatening or emergencies—but think of the difference we could make to their lives by doing what in this country would be seen as basic surgery. If we can do some interviews with staff members, focus on their special skills and surgeries, get the information out there for the world and media to see, it could really raise the profile of the Hunter Clinic. The more international customers we have, the more disposable income the clinic can use to help aid these charities.

‘The Hunter Clinic has finally managed to regain its reputation and polish. Things are looking even better now people know that Leo and Ethan are working together. It does wonders for the whole ethos of the place. Just think, Iain, if a clinic that’s known as the best of the best is going all out for some of these charities, don’t you think that will make people stop and think? It’ll make people look more closely at these charities and wonder what they could do to help too. That’s exactly the kind of publicity that they need, Iain. This isn’t just about your surgical skills and time, it’s about the bigger picture. It’s about what everyone else can do to help.’

She couldn’t stop the enthusiasm and passion that was coming through in her voice. She was excited just thinking about this and the huge realm of possibilities. She could tell she was getting to him. He wasn’t so quick to answer back, as if he were mulling over what she’d just said. Exactly the way she’d hoped he would.

Her brain was whirring again and her tongue itching to fill the silence in the car. But this was exactly the time to be quiet. To leave him with no excuse but to mull it over.

She changed gear and her hand brushed against his thigh. Wow. Now there were a hundred reasons for a girl not to concentrate on the road.

For a second she felt a little panicked. She could smell him. His scent was invading her senses and she was starting to feel swamped by his presence in her car. She could remember his firm hands on her shoulders, holding her down on the couch. It had been terrifying. All rational thought had flown out of the window.

Of course it had to have been Iain. He was the person she’d been hunting for in the clinic—who else could it possibly have been?

And once the terror had left her, all she’d been left with had been the whoosh.

That feeling of being close to a man again. How long had it been since she’d let a man touch her? And how much had her senses fired in Iain’s powerful arms?

She tried to shake the intimate thoughts from her head. She was a professional. She had a job to do. And Iain McKenzie was part of that job.

Her PR head started to buzz. Should she have concerns about Iain McKenzie? Why on earth was one of their top surgeons sleeping at the clinic? She’d read the information in his personnel file. She knew he was originally from Edinburgh and had a broad general experience before specialising in plastics. He’d printed several professional papers, spoke at conferences and conducted scientific clinical studies into different techniques for various types of plastic surgery. Technically, he was brilliant.

So why did she feel as if something was wrong? More importantly, why did it make her stomach twist?

That was the thing about Iain’s personnel file. There was hardly a ‘personal’ thing in it. All professional. It just didn’t sit right with her.

She pulled up outside his townhouse.

‘How did you know where I stay, Lexi? I never told you.’