Girl From the Red Carpet

by Scarlet Wilson

  But there was something else. Something hanging in the air between them. Something that he hadn’t quite yet managed to fathom.

  And as Lexi sat there in the dimming light, with her wide blue eyes, designer red suit and long, lithe limbs, all he could remember was the Lexi from his dream last night. The one who had been straddling him with those long legs. The one who had danced those red lips across his forehead and chest. Taking him to a whole place he hadn’t visited in a long time.

  His reaction was automatic. He stood up, causing both Lexi and John to start in their positions. Trying to erase all those thoughts from his head and trying to push the aroma of her perfume from his senses.

  He needed to get out of there. He needed space. More importantly, he needed to get away from her. As far away as possible.

  ‘Iain? Iain, what’s wrong?’ She stood up, straightening her skirt and taking a step towards him.

  He couldn’t let her touch him. He couldn’t let her be near him at all right now.

  ‘Interview over,’ he growled as he strode to the door and flung it open, letting it slam off the wall as his steps ate up the corridor outside.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘AS IF THIS day could get any worse.’ Lexi let out a sigh as the buzzer sounded loudly again. It was almost as if someone upstairs was laughing at her, waiting until her toe was perfectly poised above the millions of lavender-scented bubbles and her satin dressing gown had just hit the floor.

  The buzzing was becoming more incessant, more desperate. So she picked the dressing-gown back off the floor and knotted it tightly around her waist. ‘This had better be good,’ she muttered as she made her way to the door.

  She swung the door open, fatigue stopping her from putting her sensible head in place. The one that would make her put all her locks in place and check through the peephole before opening the door, half-dressed.

  ‘Iain!’

  The very last person she had expected to see tonight.

  The cool night air swept around her thin dressing-gown, making it billow against her legs. She tried to grab it, tried to hide the swathes of skin it was threatening to expose.

  Iain was leaning against her doorjamb, his shaggy hair looking as if he’d spent the last two hours running his fingers through it.

  Twenty minutes. That was how long the interview had lasted. And while what she’d captured initially was just what she’d hoped for and would be perfect for the publicity campaign, the ending had been more than a little abrupt.

  She’d been left standing with her jaw bouncing off the floor as John had shrugged, packed up his camera and left for the night. Iain had vanished. No one in the hospital had known where he was and Lexi had been left to make her way home wondering what on earth she’d done wrong.

  A long hot bubble bath, a glass of wine and a mountain of pizza had been on the cards.

  ‘Can I come in?’ His manner was still abrupt but he was looking at her with those big brown eyes that sucked you in and made you forget how to give appropriate answers. It didn’t help that every hair on her skin was standing on end and she couldn’t bear to look down and see the effects on her nipples.

  She stood aside. ‘If you want,’ she muttered, unsure whether this was a good idea or not.

  Iain walked into her flat, instantly filling it with his large frame. It wasn’t as if she lived somewhere small. By most people’s proportions Lexi’s London flat was positively comfortable. But just having Iain in it seemed to make the air close in around her. She was feeling completely and utterly underdressed.

  He was pacing. Pacing around her flat. He had the obligatory grey suit on, with a dark blue shirt, his top button open and tie askew. ‘Look, Lexi, about earlier—’

  ‘What about earlier?’ she interrupted, folding her arms across her chest as it seemed the safest position for them.

  He stopped pacing and took a step towards her, closing the space between them in an instant. His voice was low. ‘I’m not very good at this.’

  ‘Not very good at what?’ Was that her voice that sounded all squeaky? How embarrassing. He was too close. She could reach right out and put her hand on the plane of his chest. So not a good idea. It was better to keep her eyes fixed on her dark wooden floor and bare feet with their painted toenails.

  She heard him sigh. ‘Saying sorry.’

  Her head snapped back up in time to see him run his fingers through his hair and fix his brown eyes on hers. So not what she was expecting.

  Being this close to Iain McKenzie was more than a little disconcerting. Particularly when she was partially dressed.

  ‘Lexi?’ he said softly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Would you mind putting some clothes on? It’s kind of distracting, seeing you like this.’

  She felt the colour rush into her cheeks. On one hand she should be glad that he found her distracting—on the other? She wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

  ‘I was just about to step into the bath,’ she said by way of explanation.

  ‘Have you eaten?’ He glanced at the clock.

  She shook her head. ‘Ordering pizza was next on my list.’

  He reached over and touched her arm, his warm hand circling her cold wrist. ‘Then let me take you out to dinner.’

  She pulled back a little, trying not to focus on the electricity shooting up her arm. ‘It’s nearly nine o’clock. Where are you going to find somewhere that still has a table?’

  He gave her a knowing smile and tapped the edge of his nose. ‘Leave that to me. Will you come, Lexi? We need to talk.’

  For a second she hesitated. Was this a good idea? Maybe she could persuade Iain McKenzie that the job she was doing was actually a worthwhile one. Maybe she could persuade him to be a little more involved. Anything that would help the charity work of the clinic would surely be worth a dinner. No matter how blunt her dinner partner was.

  She looked down at her pink toes. ‘What do I need to wear?’

  ‘You could wear a plastic bin bag, Lexi, you’d still look good.’ The words tripped off his tongue as easily as could be. He didn’t even seem embarrassed by them.

  She walked off towards the bedroom. ‘That didn’t help!’ she shouted over her shoulder.

  Fifteen minutes later he walked her down a street in London she’d never visited before. A warm and enveloping smell started to surround them as Iain walked towards a red-painted door and pushed it open. There was no traditional restaurant window looking out onto the street and advertising its presence. Instead there was a winding staircase up to what felt like the top of a private townhouse.

  The smell was intriguing her. ‘What is this place?’ She looked around for a restaurant name or menu but there was nothing obvious.

  A man appeared at Iain’s side and pulled a curtain aside for them, revealing a small intimate restaurant. ‘Nice to see you again, mate. Find yourself a table.’

  She smiled at the rich Australian accent and informality of it all. The restaurant was busy, with only a few free tables.

  Then reality started to hit and she took a little step backwards. ‘Isn’t that Georgie Perkins, the Oscar-winning actress?’ The woman was dressed in a green suit and drinking wine with her husband and another couple.

  Iain gave a nod and pulled out a chair for her. Lexi smoothed the front of her red jersey dress as she sat down, yet again feeling instantly underdressed.

  ‘Hey, Iain.’

  ‘Hey, Kevin, nice to see you.’ He gave the man on their right a curt nod.

  Lexi leaned forward and gritted her teeth. ‘Sir Kevin Bain? Chairman of the richest football club in the country?’

  Iain reached over and grabbed some bread out of the basket sitting on the table. ‘Yup, him and wife number three.’ He leaned forward and winked. ‘She’s one of ours, you know.’

  ‘What is this place?’ Lexi asked, looking around and realising she still hadn’t seen a name anywhere.

  ‘It’s Frank’s,’ he sa
id simply.

  ‘And who is Frank?’ she asked. ‘And how come I’ve never heard of this place?’ She pointed over at the other diners. ‘Other people obviously have.’

  ‘Take it from me, this place is for good eating and good wine. You won’t find any paparazzi hanging around outside the door, and it never needs to advertise.’

  Lexi settled back into her chair. He was right. The place had a certain ambience about it, as if the celebrities who were there knew their privacy would be guarded. She had dined around lots of people like this, but she’d never seen them quite so relaxed—quite so unguarded. Would the same rules apply to Iain? Was this why he’d brought her here?

  The guy from the door appeared and handed them menus. He looked at Lexi and held out his hand. ‘I haven’t met you before, have I?’

  She shook her head and met his firm handshake. ‘Lexi Robbins. I work with Iain.’

  ‘Lucky man. I’m Frank. If it’s not on the menu—just ask and I’ll make it for you. I can handle all the allergy quirks, all the special diets, but if you’re a crazy who just doesn’t want any calories then I’ll pour you a glass of water and charge you a hundred bucks.’

  She laughed, instantly liking the big Australian, then grabbed her stomach as it let out a little grumble.

  He looked skyward. ‘My favourite noise in the world. What will it be, lady?’

  Lexi handed him back the menu. She’d barely even glanced at it but felt as if she could trust his judgement. ‘I’m a chicken girl. Do anything you like with it—except give me bones.’

  Frank blew some of his hair off his forehead. ‘Amateur!’ He turned to Iain, ‘Go on, master of the universe. Surprise me.’

  Iain rolled his eyes. ‘If you keep talking to me like that, I won’t come back.’

  ‘Fat chance.’

  He nodded and handed over his menu. ‘You’re right. I’ll have the usual.’

  Frank disappeared muttering, only to reappear and plonk a bottle of red wine on the table along with a couple of glasses.

  Iain lifted the bottle and gave a smile. ‘Are you okay with red, or would you prefer something else?’

  She lifted her glass towards him. ‘Red’s fine. Just not too much.’

  Iain filled her glass part way then did the same with his own.

  ‘To Frank’s?’

  She smiled and clinked glasses with him. ‘To Frank’s. Here’s hoping the food is as good as you promised.’

  Iain nodded with confidence. ‘You’ve nothing to worry about here.’ He looked around at their surroundings. ‘This place is all about chilling and relaxing. That’s why I brought you here. We could have gone to Drake’s but the food, and the company, are infinitely better here.’

  She smiled. Drake’s would be packed to the rafters right now—probably with most of the staff from the Hunter Clinic and St Catherine’s. It was unlikely they would have managed to have any kind of conversation in there.

  ‘Who is Frank?’

  ‘Just a sad Australian who needed an op one day. He told me he owned a restaurant and invited me for dinner after that.’

  ‘You’re not going to reveal?’

  He shook his head. ‘Only if you get me drunk.’

  There it was. That little hint of humour that appeared on the rarest of occasions. She liked it. It proved that the gruff exterior of Iain McKenzie wasn’t as rock solid as it first seemed and the man could actually laugh at himself.

  He set his glass on the table. ‘So, Lexi Robbins. I’m curious about you.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I don’t know much about you.’

  She sighed. ‘Haven’t you ever read a newspaper or a gossip magazine? My life’s been pretty much an open book since the second I was born.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s not the kind of thing I want to know.’

  She leaned forward a little. ‘So what do you want to know, Iain McKenzie?’

  She hadn’t meant it to come out that way. Slightly flirtatious. Slightly coy. But they were sitting in a darkened candlelit restaurant in the middle of London after a stressful day. She really didn’t want to have to think too hard. She was only doing what came naturally.

  His eyes skimmed over her. She could feel them. Taking in her loose curls and comfortably fitted dress. She hadn’t bothered with much make-up, only reapplying her lipstick and adding some mascara.

  His finger ran round the rim of his glass. ‘I’m curious why Leo Hunter hired you to be the head of PR. You must be good—you must be very good, because everyone working at the clinic was handpicked by Leo.’

  ‘And the implication is that I don’t seem that good?’ Her reaction was instant. She could get angry. She could get upset and tearful. But to be frank she’d heard it all before and was far too tired to fight. She leaned back in her seat and took a sip of her wine.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ His voice was quiet. Controlled. As if he was trying to get the measure of her.

  She let out a sigh. ‘You didn’t have to, Iain. A million others have implied it before you.’

  His eyebrow rose ever so slightly. ‘Why would they do that?’

  She took another sip of wine. It was official. A few sips were definitely hitting the right spot and relaxing her. That’s what happened when you hardly managed to eat all day.

  ‘Let’s start at the very beginning. You might have guessed I was a bit of an accessory to my parents.’

  ‘That seems a bit harsh.’

  She let out a snort. ‘Try living it. It gets a bit much when they constantly tell you you’re not pretty enough or good enough.’

  Iain leaned forward, his eyes practically smoking. ‘Your parents did that?’

  She shook her head a little. ‘Not in so many words. It was implied—in a lot of ways. I was constantly in the press, being compared to my mother, the supermodel. What girl really wants to spend her life being told she’s not as pretty as her mother?’ Lexi lowered her eyes. ‘I focused on other things. I was academic. I liked school, I guess in that respect I took after my father. Then I had a bit of an accident and I was out of school for a while.’

  ‘What happened?’ She could see the concern on his face and felt a lump forming in her throat. So much time had passed. It had been so long ago. She’d got over this and put it behind her, she didn’t feel the need to go into details.

  ‘I had a horse-riding accident and needed some major surgery.’ It was best to leave the specifics out. ‘My mum and dad were there for a few days, but they were busy. They both had contractual obligations. So once they knew I would live but need some serious recuperation, they handed me over to my Aunt Jo.’

  Iain wrinkled his nose. ‘I thought you said your family was permanently in the papers. I’ve not heard of your Aunt Jo.’

  Lexi smiled. ‘I bet you have. Josephine Kirk. She’s my father’s sister.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Wasn’t she an ambassador for children for the UN?’

  Lexi nodded. ‘After I recovered from surgery I still wasn’t really fit for school. I spent the summer with Aunt Jo—and almost every summer after that. We’re close.’

  ‘Closer than you are to your mum and dad?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ There was no hesitation in the word.

  Iain sucked in his breath. He had a great relationship with his mum and dad. They’d been his absolute backbone when he’d lost his wife. He couldn’t imagine not knowing that they would always be there for him. Lexi had described herself as an ‘accessory’—what kind of parents did she have?

  He watched her in the flickering candlelight. She seemed totally at ease, totally oblivious to the casual, admiring glances she was receiving. He’d never given Lexi much thought. Even when she’d started working at the clinic he hadn’t really taken much notice of her credentials or her work ethic. But she was rapidly turning into the most interesting woman he’d met in a long time.

  Lexi was tempted to fill the silence. Should she tell Iain more?

  He was a doctor. He w
ould understand.

  But she wasn’t really ready to share any personal details. Her aunt was the wisest woman she’d known. Lexi’s surgery had been extensive—a horseshoe in her lower abdomen had caused tremendous damage to her young body, meaning that she would never be able to have children of her own. But her aunt had taken her to a place to show her the little children in this world who would need someone like her—someone to love and care for them in future years.

  And it had helped Lexi move on. To stop thinking about the fact she’d never be pregnant and give birth, but to realise that not everyone became a mother in the same way. To realise that if her dream was to have a family then the possibility was there.

  Very few people knew that detail about her. And even though Iain was watching her with those big chocolate-brown eyes, lulling her into a false sense of security that might make her reveal her innermost secrets, she just couldn’t say anything else.

  This was about protecting herself and protecting the decisions that she made. She’d learned from her mistakes. So no matter what spark she currently felt towards the sexy Scot, it wouldn’t make her reveal her most intimate secrets.

  ‘Here we go, folks. Chicken with no bones, and my own special concoction, and the usual for you.’ Frank placed the plates down on the table with a flourish and then melted into the back ground once again.

  Lexi leaned forward and breathed deeply. ‘Oh, this smells great. I’m starved. What have you got?’

  Iain smiled. ‘Pulled pork with spicy sauce and hand-cut chips. Can’t beat it. It’s perfect every time I come here.’ He picked up his knife and fork. ‘What did Frank make for you?’

  Lexi smiled. ‘I think he secretly switched on his telepathic powers and invaded my brain. He’s given me something that I’ll love, chicken with mushrooms and some spicy potato bravas. I can’t wait.’

  Iain nodded. ‘Frank always seems to get it just right.’ He waved his fork at her. ‘Dig in.’

  She did. And Iain watched with enjoyment as she cleared her plate and then sat back and gave a sigh. ‘That was much better than pizza.’