Lexi stared at the bread in his hand. ‘Wow. I never knew a crusty loaf could cause damage to a throat.’
‘Not normally. But after delicate throat surgery you have to be careful what you eat.’ He picked up the cheese, pickle and cold ham she’d set on the table. ‘Are we having a picnic tonight?’
Lexi smiled. ‘I can’t really cook. I try—but there’s a real danger of food poisoning. So I decided not to even try.’ She held up her hands. ‘I don’t want you to start getting false expectations about me.’
He crossed the room and put his hands on her hips. ‘Oh, I’ve no false expectations about you, Lexi. You meet every single one of my expectations.’
‘I do, do I?’ She raised herself up on her toes and wound her hands around his neck. There it was. The picture still sitting on the window ledge. How could she have expected anything different? Of course the picture of Bonnie would still be there. There were pictures of her scattered throughout the house.
So why did it make her stomach curl so much? Bonnie wasn’t here any more. And there was no question she had Iain’s undivided attention. So why didn’t it feel as if it was enough?
His hands were working their way around to her stomach. He still hadn’t mentioned her abdominal scar. She’d already told him she’d had surgery as a child, maybe he just didn’t want to pry.
It was still there. It was still eating away at her. The fact that Iain would eventually want a family of his own—one she couldn’t provide. This was a fling. This was a fleeting event. And she had to keep reminding herself about that. Otherwise she could end up being seriously hurt.
Iain was paying particular attention to her neck. And their feet were moving slowly but surely in the direction of the bedroom. She pushed all the other thoughts from her mind. It was time to focus on the here and now because for the next few hours Iain was hers and hers alone.
And that was just the way she liked him.
Iain’s pager sounded first thing in the morning with a shriek that made Lexi sit bolt upright in bed.
Iain’s hand was on the phone in seconds, dialling in the number and listening for a few minutes. It couldn’t be good. The only words he muttered were expletives.
‘What’s wrong?’
He shook his head. ‘Can you spare some time today?’
She wrinkled her brow, trying not to think about the appointments she had, the calls to return and the final edits she had to do. ‘I can try. What’s wrong?’
‘It’s Carol Kennedy.’
‘Did she have a bad night? Does she have post-op complications?’
Iain blew out a stream of air. ‘Of the worst kind. Someone has blabbed to the media. One of the tabloids has been on the phone to Kate’s, wanting a statement.’
Lexi cringed. ‘Oh, no. Carol wanted the time to break the story herself. I’ve nearly finished editing the interview we did together. It’s great. She comes across exactly as she is in real life, a woman with compassion and concern.’
‘Well, by tomorrow she will be headline news on every front page.’
‘Poor Carol. That’s exactly what she didn’t want.’ Lexi put her head into her hands. ‘I wonder …’
‘Wonder what?’
Lexi stood up and walked around the bed. ‘I hate to ask my parents for anything but if I could speak to my father, he has a show lined up for tonight. I could speak to him about screening Carol’s interview.’ She couldn’t stop pacing. ‘My father is quite mercenary. The thought of breaking the story would probably appeal to him.’
Iain nodded. Normally he would have hated anything like this but Carol had made her wishes clear. She wanted to break things on her terms. ‘Can you talk to Carol this morning? Ask her how she wants to handle things?’
Lexi nodded. ‘I take it you’re happy with her recovery?’
He was picking up his clothes, pulling on his trousers. ‘I’ll come with you.’ He paused from fastening his trousers. ‘You can come this morning, can’t you?’
Lexi nodded. She was Head of PR at the Hunter Clinic and this could rapidly turn into a PR nightmare. Everything else would have to wait. Including another viewing of the perfect interview with Iain. She’d watched it constantly since they’d filmed it. He was perfect. Just like a film star. And as soon as he opened his mouth and that Scottish accent came out—along with the slightly shaggy hair, good looks and toned body—he was going to be a sensation. The commercial had been let loose on the media last night. Neither of them had had time to think about it then—other priorities had taken over. She reached over and grabbed her phone. Dead as a doornail.
Iain was tucking his shirt in. ‘What’s wrong?’
She waved the phone at him. ‘Out of charge.’
He pointed to the nearby table. ‘Mine’s plugged in over there—use it.’
She moved across the room and plugged in her phone. It vibrated instantly and she felt as if her eyes were bugging out her skull. Four hundred emails. Sixty messages. One hundred and thirty-two texts. Was somebody dead?
Then a smile crept across her face as she opened the first email. Just as she’d predicted. The world at large loved Iain McKenzie. He was going to be the latest internet sensation. She could see him in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Better not tell him now. He’d probably freak. She could save it till later.
She sat on the edge of the bed and dialled her father’s number, sighing when it went straight to voicemail. ‘Hi, Dad, it’s Lexi. I’ve got a bit of news for you—and an exclusive interview. Can you give me a call back?’
She put on her clothes and washed her face, pulling her hair back in a clip. Ready in less than five minutes.
Iain smiled. ‘Let’s go and see what we can do to help Carol.’
Six hours later Lexi hadn’t stopped. And she’d had no chance whatsoever to respond to all the emails, messages and texts. Carol was making a good recovery following her op the day before and had given approval for her interview to be used on Lexi’s father’s show that night. She’d also recorded a new segment saying how she wanted to raise awareness of the type of cancer she had, and to say that her hand had been forced by the media to reveal her diagnosis before she’d wished to. It was skilfully done. Lexi’s father had jumped all over the story, delighted to have the breaking news.
But even though she’d essentially done him a favour, he’d hardly even acknowledged the part that Lexi had played. It was nothing new to her. The thing that astonished her was that she still felt a tiny modicum of hurt about her father’s actions. Or lack of them. Still, she had enough on her plate right now.
As for Iain McKenzie—internet sensation—she was so glad the interview had gone out the day before. If the Hunter Clinic was going to hit the news it was better to do it on her own terms. In a matter of minutes the footage of the hunky Scotsman had gone viral—just like she’d suspected it would. The phones at the clinic were currently ringing off the hook.
It seemed like she wasn’t the only one who found Iain attractive. The rest of the female population were inclined the same way.
Needless to say, Iain hadn’t been impressed. When they got back to the Hunter Clinic the amount of couriers with deliveries had staggered them all. Agencies looking to represent him had sent champagne and designer suits. Department stores wanting to use him for their advertising campaigns had sent their entire men’s ranges. Aftershaves, flowers, bottles of whisky, ties, shirts and mountains of underwear were all waiting for him in his over-stuffed office.
Iain looked as if he might explode, but Lexi smiled. This was exactly what she’d expected. Fabulous publicity for the clinic and its attached charities.
And as a plus point the bookings had soared.
Now, if only she could get him into a kilt …
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE SILVER ENVELOPE was lying on her desk, the courier logo across the top. She picked it up and stared at it. Who on earth was this from?
‘When did this arrive?’ She walked out of her office tow
ards Rose, one of the secretaries.
Rose looked up and gave her a wary smile. ‘About an hour ago. I signed for it. Is something wrong?’
Lexi shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’ She tore open the envelope and pulled the thick invitation out, letting out a little yelp when she realised what it was.
‘Me? Me?’ She couldn’t believe it.
Rose jumped to her feet. ‘Lexi? Lexi? Is something wrong?’
‘What? Oh, no. Everything is wonderful!’ She gave a little spin, waving the invitation above her head. ‘I’ve been nominated for a PR award; one of the biggest awards in PR!’ She let out an excited squeal, ‘I can’t believe it. I’ve dreamed about this since I was at university. Every year we used to study the people who’d been nominated. I can’t believe I’m one of them.’
The secretary gave a smile. ‘Well, congratulations. That’s fabulous news. For you, and for the clinic. Do you want me to let Leo know? He’ll be thrilled for you.’
‘What? Oh, yes. Thanks very much.’ She kept the invitation close to her chest lest someone try to snatch it away from her. It was hers. It was really hers.
She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. It felt too good.
Finally, recognition for the job that she loved. Recognition that someone, somewhere thought she was doing a good job. There were hundreds of nominations for the PR award every year, only a few making it to the final cut. A panel had studied her work closely after the nomination. Thank goodness she hadn’t known about that beforehand, it would have made her break out in a cold sweat.
She walked down the corridor, heading towards Iain’s office. He was the first person she wanted to tell. Was that weird? The other people she really wanted to know were her parents. But she didn’t want to have to tell them herself. She didn’t want to give them the ability to shrug off her news as if it was meaningless.
If she kept quiet long enough, the press would eventually break the story. Maybe her parents would pay more attention then? Was it wrong to know that her parents would be more likely to celebrate her success if it brought them good promo?
She shook the thought from her head.
‘What are you looking so happy about?’ Iain had crept up behind her, placed his hands on her hips and was escorting her into his office, shutting the door with his foot.
‘This!’ Lexi spun around, waving the silver envelope.
Iain smiled, leaned against the door and folded his arms. ‘Okay, you got me. What is it?’
She couldn’t help it. She started jumping up and down on the spot. Even wearing stilettos she couldn’t contain her excitement. ‘It’s such a big a nomination. I can’t believe I got it. I can’t believe I got nominated. I don’t care about winning. Just getting nominated is so, so fabulous!’
‘You finalled? Really? That’s brilliant! I knew you would!’
He bent down and kissed her thoroughly. His kisses took her breath away. The feel of his hands on her body made her forget everything else—including the fact they were in the clinic.
Well, not quite everything. In the currently messy recesses of her mind a little alarm bell had gone off.
She pulled back. ‘You don’t seem surprised.’
‘Maybe I believe in you. Maybe I value the work that you do. Maybe I think the world should know how good you are. Look at the fabulous job you did with Carol Kennedy. Everyone is talking about her. Everyone is talking about the warning signs of cancer.’
She felt a little warmth spread through her chest. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? You nominated me for this award?’
It was an incredible feeling. A swelling of pride. Something she rarely experienced in this life—not with the parents she had.
It made her feel special. It made her feel worthy. All things she’d spent this life striving for. And in a few short weeks Iain had made that happen for her. There was no getting away from the fact that she could happily spend the rest of her life like this. Happily spend the rest of her life with Iain—if only he didn’t want kids so badly.
He touched her face. ‘Of course I nominated you for the award. I’ve seen the hours you put in. I’ve seen the changes you’ve made in the last few months. The number of celebrity clients has gone through the roof. You know they’re not my favourite kind, but if they help the clinic, and help with the charity work we can do, I can live with that.’ He pulled her even closer. ‘You did this work, Lexi. You did. I just nominated you for the award. The panel scrutinised the work that you’ve done. They found it worthy to give you a place as a finalist. You should be proud of yourself. The work you’ve done here is amazing.’
The silver envelope was still trapped between them, against the hard planes of his chest and the firm curves of her breasts. She looked down at it and smiled. ‘I think this is all a ploy.’
‘A ploy?’ Iain arched his eyebrows.
‘Definitely. You must know this invitation is for two people. You’re trying to trick me into going out in public with you.’ It was risky. It was more than risky. They hadn’t let anyone at work know about their relationship. Everything had been kept tightly under wraps. This would blow things out of the water.
She felt her heart flutter in her chest. Beating much faster than it should. Didn’t they have a special name for this? AF? Didn’t this normally require medical treatment? Just as well she was in a doctor’s arms.
She was pretending to breathe normally. Pretending that this was an everyday question. Pretending that she didn’t feel sick asking it.
She could see Iain thinking. She could almost hear his brain ticking. Trying to decide what to tell her. Did he want to let her down gently? Because, frankly, that would kill her.
But just when she thought he was going to break her heart, he leaned forward and gave her a kiss. It was lighter than before, a little more formal.
‘It would be my pleasure to be your date. I think you’ll knock them out.’
She tried not to let the hiss of relief from her lungs be audible. Her smile was back, pasted from one ear to the other. ‘So,’ she said as she wound her hands around his neck, ‘what are my chances of getting you in a kilt?’
Lexi looked in the mirror and tried not to let her hand tremble as she took the large rollers from her hair. It fell in loose curls, just the way she’d wanted. Everything should be perfect.
But inside her chest her heart was pitter-pattering the fast beat of nerves. This wasn’t about Iain. This wasn’t about the award ceremony. This was about being her.
She shrugged the satin robe from her shoulders, immediately averting her eyes from the full-length mirror in front of her.
Her breasts were perfect. There was no denying the fantastic job her plastic surgeon had done. But although she liked them, she was still naturally shy about her body shape. She wasn’t the kind of girl who’d ever go topless on a beach. She stepped into her pink satin underwear and fastened her bra around her back. There. Now she looked up.
Her hand rested on her stomach. The line of her panties didn’t quite hide the scar on her abdomen. The scar that Iain had never asked about.
Just that thought sent the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. It was inevitable. At some point he would ask and at some point she would tell him. And that time was creeping closer with every day.
Within a few seconds she’d pulled her dress over her head. Better, much better. Now her body was covered. It was almost as if she’d pulled on her suit of armour.
The dress enhanced her shape, covered all the parts of her she wanted covered. And let her move past the things she didn’t want to think about.
She sat down in the chair and fastened her jewel-encrusted sandals. She could almost see the headlines. The Lexi Robbins who appeared in the press was so different from the Lexi Robbins who stared at her in the mirror.
These last few weeks had been easier. She was little more relaxed. A little more confident. She fastened her earrings. Iain. He was the difference here.
He never f
ailed to compliment her. He never failed to tell her how good he thought she looked.
She looked up again. She liked the pale pink and silver dress. Not too much cleavage, not too much leg. She was comfortable in it. Some people might call her a princess in it.
Too bad that wasn’t how she felt.
She fixed a smile on her face. There. That was better.
Iain would be here soon. Her stomach gave a little flip. She pushed the nerves away and finished her make-up with some rose-coloured lipstick. It wasn’t dark enough, she would need a second coat. That could wait until Iain was here.
She flicked the switch on the radio and tuned in to some classic tunes. Anything to distract her right now. Anything to take her mind off the sea of cameras that would be waiting for her in the next hour.
Iain would be right next to her. And with him there, everything would be all right—wouldn’t it?
Iain knocked on her door, the London wind whistling about his knees. This wind was for amateurs. If he was in Edinburgh right now the wind would have his kilt dancing somewhere around his ears. It had been a long time since he’d taken his kilt out of its carrier. A very long time. He used to love wearing his kilt on special occasions. Then again, he used to love going out—something he rarely did in London.
Lexi opened the door and let out a squeal. ‘You did it! You wore the kilt!’
Her face was a picture. For a second he was transfixed by the sparkle in her eyes and broadest of smiles.
Until he became distracted by the floaty pale pink chiffon of her dress. A sleeveless dress with broad straps and a cross-over bodice, scattered with silver sequins that skimmed down across her hips. Her waist was accentuated by a pale pink ribbon cinched around it, giving her a perfect hourglass shape. The dress skimmed her knees. There was nothing revealing about it. Nothing to attract undue attention. But the way it clung to her body and accentuated her curves was attention-grabbing enough for Iain. That, along with how the dress rippled in the wind, made her look like a butterfly, waiting to be captured.
Girl From the Red Carpet Page 11