200 Harley Street. Lynne Marshall

him to up sticks and move to another part of the country?

      But Leo had understood him better than he’d understood himself. He’d known he would never be able to pull himself up if he stayed in the family home, with the same work colleagues with their averted eyes and sad expressions. The move to London had been exactly what he’d needed at the time. Apart from Leo, no one knew about his wife. He’d skirted around the edges of any potentially difficult conversations, avoiding any personal details.

      London was easy to lose yourself in. And the clientele coming to and from the Hunter Clinic had more to worry about than the personal background of their surgeon. And it was better that way. It really was.

      Iain walked into his vast kitchen and pulled a glass from the cupboard, pressing it against the dispenser on his stainless-steel fridge. A beautiful kitchen that he hardly used. Just like the rest of this house.

      He climbed the staircase to his bedroom, peeled off his jacket, trousers, shirt and tie, not bothering to hang them up. He’d have to be up in a few hours to get to Princess Catherine’s for surgery and he had a whole rail of identical business suits in the cupboard.

      He sank into the bed with white Egyptian cotton sheets. Praying that tonight—even for a few hours—he might get a few hours’ precious sleep.

      But it wasn’t to be.

      It seemed that it wasn’t only the scent of Lexi Robbins that had pervaded his memory. He sat bolt upright in bed, sweat pouring from his body.

      This was why he’d purposefully been avoiding Lexi Robbins.

      He’d known it. Right from the first time he’d seen her and he’d felt a skitter of impulses across his shoulders that he couldn’t be around her. He couldn’t be near her.

      He leant forward and wiped the sweat from his brow. Erotic dreams weren’t the norm for Iain. But when Lexi’s firm breasts had pressed against the planes of his chest it had left an indelible imprint. Not just on his skin.

      Those tiny, fleeting thoughts that hadn’t even taken up a second in his brain when he’d had her pressed down on the examination couch had just taken front and centre stage in his mind in all their erotic beauty. Dreams like that had more than one obvious effect on the body.

      He’d never be able to look Lexi Robbins in the eye today. It was almost as if he could smell her here, now.

      He jumped from the bed and walked through to the en suite, flicking the switch on the shower then coming back and gulping the glass of water at the side of his bed. Was he going crazy? He could smell Lexi Robbins.

      Then he remembered how close they’d been. He snatched his crumpled shirt from the floor and pressed it to his nose. There. Not the smell of his own aftershave. The smell of her.

      That heady, exotic smell that left an invisible pied-piper trail wherever she went. That was what had caused the dream. Nothing else.

      The shirt had been lying at his bedside and her scent had obviously drifted up and around him while he’d slept. How could this woman find a way into his dreams?

      Guilt flooded through him, seeping in through every pore on his body. The hot sweat instantly turned cold, chilling his skin. Bonnie. That’s who he should have been dreaming about. No one else.

      Steam was starting to billow from the shower. He stalked back through and instantly turned the switch to cold. That was what he needed. Icy, cold, blasting water to wash away any unwanted thoughts or feelings.

      He stepped into the freezing water, shuddering as it came into contact with his skin. There was no point going back to sleep now.

      Not if Lexi Robbins was going to feature in his dreams again.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘MORNING, MORNING.’ LEXI nodded at the sea of faces in and around the theatres at Princess Catherine’s, or Kate’s, where the Hunter Clinic had an arrangement to perform adult surgery. Children’s surgery was carried out at the Lighthouse Children’s Hospital.

      Lexi had thought she’d be in good stead, turning up early. But early seemed to be normal in the theatres here.

      She’d followed all the instructions carefully. Even though she wouldn’t be near any patients, she’d removed the nail varnish from her fingernails, ensured her face was scrubbed clean of any make-up and left her perfume and jewellery at home. She didn’t want to give Iain McKenzie any reason not to let her shadow him today.

      And her stomach was churning a little. Nerves. Lots of them. Most of the world saw Lexi Robbins as a together, sorted woman. She didn’t reveal the insecure woman that hid away underneath. The person who was horrified to be here with a bare face and pulled-back hair.

      It was odd, but she felt strangely safe here. No paparazzi were going to jump out from a corner and snap her, showing the world she wasn’t as beautiful as her mother. No one here cared. Everyone here had one purpose in mind—excellent patient care. It was almost a relief to know she could fade into the background.

      Kate’s was buzzing. There was a rainbow of coloured scrubs around her. She’d been under the illusion that everyone wore the same-coloured scrubs, but Kate’s had scrubs in every colour, shape and size. One of the theatre nurses had pointed her to a laundry cupboard and told her to help herself. So she had, and she was currently sporting pale pink scrubs and white clogs.

      ‘Ready?’

      The deep voice behind her made her jump. ‘Oh, Iain. Great. I was waiting for you.’

      The words seemed to come out all wrong and she could feel the colour rushing into her face. She might have guessed it. Even dressed in navy scrubs there was no disguising his broad frame and muscles. If she was going to have to watch that muscled back all day she might as well just go and lie down in a corner now.

      ‘I’ve already spoken to Aida. She signed a disclaimer. She’s more than happy for you to watch her surgery—you can even film it if you like.’

      Lexi cleared her throat. ‘Actually, it’s you we would be filming, Iain. We don’t intend to focus on the patient. Just let people see your expertise at work.’

      ‘Whatever.’ He gave a shrug and pushed open the door to the theatre. ‘After you …’

      She nodded and brushed past his arm as he held the door open for her. No contact. That’s what she’d been telling herself all night. Seems like she’d broken her first rule already.

      She tried to back herself into a corner as the rest of the staff moved in perfect unison around the theatre. Iain and one of his colleagues scrubbing meticulously at the sinks. The nurses opening up theatre packs, the anaesthetist and his assistant bringing Aida into Theatre and talking to her quietly and calmly as they put her under.

      Lexi could feel herself holding her breath as the drapes were placed around Aida and her skin cleaned with betadine. Wow. Scars like she’d never seen before.

      Iain’s brown eyes connected with hers above his mask. He nodded towards her. ‘Step a little closer, Lexi.’

      Her feet moved forward, even though her body wanted to remain pinned against the wall.

      ‘This is the reason that Aida isn’t being operated on by a general plastic surgeon.’ His gloved hand pointed at her scarring. ‘She has significant scarring caused by her previous surgery. This operation isn’t just about replacing her implants, it’s about reducing the scarring and trying to give her the best possible outcome.’

      Lexi nodded behind her mask. ‘Why does she have scars like that?’

      Iain spoke slowly. ‘All patients react differently to surgery. Some form thick, keloid scars, others hypertrophic scars like these. It’s to do with collagen in the skin. The most important aspect for Aida isn’t what I do