200 Harley Street. Lynne Marshall

next person on her hit list and he could return to a little sanity.

      He smelt her first. Her scent permeating through the female changing-room doors. Seconds later the door opened and Lexi, a vision in red with her blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders, appeared.

      He hesitated for a second. Lexi Robbins might have spent the day hidden in shapeless scrubs with her hair tucked away and no make-up on, but half an hour later the transformation into gorgeous sex princess was complete.

      ‘Oh, Iain. I wasn’t expecting to see you again. Is something wrong? Is Carol okay?’

      He smiled. It was nice that her first thought was for the patient that she knew. He nodded his head. ‘Carol is doing fine. I’m happy to leave her for the evening and check on her again in the morning. I think she’ll have a comfortable night. Tomorrow we’ll get her drains out and her husband will bring her kids in for a visit. A few days’ rest with staff who will take good care of her will do her the world of good.’

      Lexi’s face brightened, the smile reaching from ear to ear. It was obvious her concern was genuine and he liked that about her.

      ‘So what can I do for you, Iain? I thought you would be exhausted and want to get home.’

      ‘I do. I mean, I would. But I’d like to get our interview over with first.’

      ‘Really? After the day you’ve had?’ She seemed genuinely surprised.

      He nodded. ‘Is that OK? Can we do it now?’

      She seemed momentarily stunned then she reached into her bag to fumble with her phone. She pulled it out and stared at it for a second.

      ‘Something wrong?’

      She shrugged. ‘Just the usual. Seventeen messages, I’ll get to them later.’ She looked around. ‘John, the cameraman, will still be about. I’ll send him a quick text. Is there somewhere around here we can set up?’

      He pointed down the corridor. ‘I’ve already sorted it. The staff at the Hunter Clinic have the use of some office space here. We can use a room just down the corridor.’

      ‘Perfect.’ She pressed the details into her phone, sent the message to John and followed him down the corridor.

      The office space was standard for any hospital. Not particularly big, with a desk, a phone and a chair. But the pièce de résistance was a picture window with a stunning backdrop of the Thames. Iain watched the expression on her face as she knew instantly it was the ideal setting for the interview. Not only did it give a really traditional view of London, it let patients know the setting for their potential hospital stay if they used the Hunter Clinic. What better selling point could there be?

      He should have mentioned it to her earlier, but it hadn’t even crossed his mind until his registrar had realised he was going to be interviewed and mentioned the spectacular view.

      Lexi started pulling a chair over to the window, nodding at John as he appeared with his camera and instantly began setting up. ‘The light will fade soon. We’d better be quick.’

      Lexi, ever the professional, nodded and pulled out her notebook. She gave Iain a cheeky wink. ‘Want me to sort out some make-up for you before your big screen debut?’

      He laughed. ‘I think I’ll stick with the natural look.’

      ‘And the scrubs?’ She pointed to his navy scrubs. He hadn’t even given them a second thought. For the sake of the clinic Lexi would probably have preferred him polished and scrubbed in his business suit. More associated with a Harley Street clinic. But that wasn’t for Iain.

      He lifted his hands. ‘I’d prefer it if patients see me the way that I spend most of my day. They don’t expect me to operate with the business suit on.’

      She nodded. ‘True. But I might need you to put on a business suit for some publicity shots later. Deal?’ She lifted her eyebrows as her cheeky smile got even wider. ‘Or how about a kilt, Iain? Because once the ladies have heard that Scottish accent …’

      He lifted his hand. ‘Enough. I might agree to the suit, but that’s it.’

      She sat down and waited for the signal from John to say that he was ready. ‘How about we negotiate on the kilt?’

      He tried not to laugh. Did she have any idea how appealing she looked right now? With her designer red suit, black stilettos and red lipstick? Lexi Robbins didn’t look like a girl who’d just spent the last twelve hours on her feet. Especially with those loose waves of blonde hair and sultry perfume floating in the air.

      ‘I’ve negotiated on the interview. That’s enough for now.’

      John gave Lexi the nod and the light came on at the top of the camera. Iain adjusted his position under its glare.

      ‘Let’s start simply,’ Lexi said. ‘Start by telling us your name, what you do at Hunter Clinic and how long you’ve worked there.’

      Iain nodded and took a deep breath. If he could get this over and done with tonight then this could be the end of his contact with Lexi Robbins.

      This itch just didn’t need scratched. It was like a chicken pox. It needed the head knocked clean off it.

      He looked towards the camera. Smiling just wasn’t his natural instinct. ‘I’m Iain McKenzie and you might guess by the accent that I’m from Edinburgh. I’ve worked at the Hunter Clinic for the last two years, specialising in reconstructive surgery.’

      Lexi nodded. ‘Iain, can you tell us the difference between general plastic surgery and reconstructive surgery?’

      He nodded curtly, trying to choose his words carefully. Trying to use terms that people would be familiar with instead of medical jargon. ‘I can do all the things that a general plastic surgeon can do—face lifts, tummy tucks, breast enhancements—but I specialise in surgery that’s a bit more complicated. For example, lots of my patients have had surgery in other places—other countries—that might not have given them the outcome they wanted or expected. Some of the surgery I do would be termed corrective surgery.’

      Lexi made some circling motions with her hand, urging him to continue.

      He took a deep breath. ‘I also deal with a number of patients who’ve had cancer that’s affected various parts of their bodies. That can be anywhere, their breasts, their faces, head and neck. All areas that might require reconstruction after the cancer has been removed and treatment has been completed. Often these surgeries require rebuilding, reshaping or prosthetic implants to give the patient back the body that they want.’

      ‘Is it purely cosmetic reconstructive surgery that you do at the Hunter Clinic, Iain?’

      He shook his head. ‘I also specialise in functional surgery. I’ve treated a number of patients with oral and cleft-palate defects. In this country, most children would have surgery done at a young age. The same facilities aren’t available in all countries and I’ve dealt with a number of adult patients who’ve come to the Hunter Clinic to have these corrected later in life. It can make a huge difference to their ability to eat and to their speech to have these corrected later in life.

      ‘Of course, we also have a number of rehabilitation services, such as speech therapists and dieticians, available to support the care of these patients. All our services are about giving people the best possible outcome from their surgeries.’ He shook his head firmly. ‘I wouldn’t perform any surgery that I didn’t believe would have a positive impact on the patient.’

      He was trying his absolute best not to say anything that would make Lexi throw her hands up in horror. He didn’t want to have to repeat this interview over and over again because he’d been way too blunt about some of the vanity-driven requests of clients.

      Lexi shifted in her chair, crossing her legs and giving him an unexpectedly good view of her shapely calves and thighs.

      ‘That’s great, Iain, thanks. Now, can you tell us a little more about