200 Harley Street

He was telling himself he was only being polite. It didn’t mean anything else. It didn’t mean anything at all.

But walking through the darkened London streets with a beautiful woman on his arm gave him a little buzz. And not in the traditional sense. As a surgeon Iain knew better than most that true beauty came from the inside. And tonight he’d been well and truly exposed to the true beauty of Lexi Robbins.

He’d watched a programme once where people sat behind a screen and described how they looked to an artist who drew a picture of them from their description. Then one of their friends described them to the same artist. The programme ended with the pictures hanging side by side. It truly reflected that people often didn’t see themselves the way others saw them. The pictures where the people had described themselves were nowhere near as beautiful as the ones where their friends had described them. And the friends’ pictures were a much more accurate reflection of the individual.

Why had this sprung to mind? Because he could tell—just from tonight and their conversation—that Lexi couldn’t see the beauty he could, both inside and out.

It still intrigued him why she’d felt the need to get implants. But it seemed too personal a question to ask. It could be that Lexi had had other reasons for surgery and the implants were a consequence of that.

They rounded the corner into her street.

‘You’re awfully quiet, Iain. Something wrong?’ Even her voice sounded merry. Lexi was a pleasure to be around.

‘Not at all. I’m just enjoying the company.’

‘That’ll be a first. You’re usually playing hide and seek with me.’

Yes. She was nobody’s fool, even if she was usually too polite to say so. It seemed the wine had loosened her tongue.

He stopped and spun her round, catching her around the waist. ‘Lexi Robbins, I have no idea what you mean,’ he said in mock horror.

She pointed her finger at his wide chest. ‘I’ll have you know, Iain McKenzie, that I was the champion hide-and-seeker as a kid.’ She lifted her hands in the air. ‘You can run but you can’t hide.’

‘Who says I want to hide?’ he said, closing the space between them in an instant and pulling her hard against his chest.

This time the sensation of her firm breasts wasn’t a surprise. But the way her body melded into his was. It was almost as if she … fitted.

This time her hands rested on his shoulders. The initial flash of surprise disappeared from her eyes and her gaze remained steady on his.

Her voice was a little breathless. ‘Admit it, Iain, you have been hiding from me.’ There wasn’t another person on the street. It was just the two of them. Nothing and no one to interrupt them.

‘And all of a sudden I can’t imagine why,’ he said quietly.

Silence. The tension between them was almost palpable. The air was practically crackling.

Then she almost tipped him over the edge. Her tongue ran along her red lips, moistening them and making them glisten in the dim light. Her voice was hoarse. ‘Neither can I,’ she whispered, as her fingers pressed into his shoulder bones.

He didn’t think. He didn’t stop to think for a second.

This was all about instinct. And his instinct was to make her his.

He bent his head, taking her lips as his own. Claiming them in every way possible. His hands pulled her hips close against his then he lifted them and wound them through her blonde hair. So soft, so silky between his fingers.

She let out a little gasp and raised herself up on tiptoe, trying to get herself even closer to him. Her hands left his shoulders and slid around to the back of his neck, curving themselves across the expanse of his back.

There was nothing tender and gentle about this kiss. This was pure and utter unbridled lust. That scent was under his nose again, drifting through his senses. It had followed him for days, driving him slowly and utterly crazy with the thoughts it evoked in his brain.

Lexi was matching him every step of the way. He pushed her back from the pavement towards the entrance of her flat. His hands were drifting under her coat, up the sensual curves of her waist and hips, relishing the feel of the clingy jersey dress beneath his fingertips. Then his hands met her breasts, the rational part of his brain wondering if she would react to his touch but the sensual part of his brain already on a mission he had to complete. Beneath the thin material her nipples reacted in his palms, making him stifle a groan in the back of his throat.

He pressed her further against the wall, one of her legs rising up and hitching on his hip, his hardness pushing against her core. His head had fallen to her neck now, to the source of that delicious sensual scent. He could taste it under his lips as his tongue moved around the soft skin at the bottom of her neck and along her fine clavicle. Her hands were moving in one direction—with a distinct purpose—and his back arched towards her.

His fingers were following suit, pushing up her dress and edging along the inside of her thigh.

‘Iain,’ she panted.

‘What?’ He didn’t even look up, didn’t want to stop what was happening.

Her body was reacting to his every touch, completely and utterly responding to every single move he made.

A cool breeze danced across his skin where she’d opened a few buttons on his shirt and the sweep of air caused him to stiffen.

He looked up. Lexi’s gaze was fixed on his. Part of it passion, part of it confusion. He could see the wealth of emotions behind her blue eyes and it brought him crashing to earth with an almighty thump.

Lexi. It was Lexi Robbins standing in front of him now.

It was Lexi Robbins who had stoked his emotions so high he’d almost choked on them.

Blonde hair, blue eyes. Staring at him with a look of expectation, a look of reciprocation of the feelings that were bubbling inside him.

It was like a bucketful of ice chips tumbling over his body. The horrible, stomach-churning realisation that not once this evening—not once—had he given Bonnie a second thought.

He stepped backwards, trying to put some distance between him and Lexi. Distance that had already formed in his mind a mile wide.

For the last few years he’d thought about Bonnie every single day. Every single day.

Whether it was first thing in the morning when he woke up, at some quiet time snatched in the middle of the day, or late at night when he was home alone, Bonnie had appeared in his thoughts every day. Sometimes the memories were good ones, happy thoughts of places they’d been, things they’d experienced together.

Other times he was in Theatre when he relived those horrendous moments. Losing his precious wife and losing his twins in one fell swoop.

Other times he was racked with guilt, replaying conversations when he’d persuaded her to give IVF one last go. To give that particular chance of having a family that way one last try.

So many steps in his life that he wanted to rewind. Wanted to turn back the clock and do differently.

But no matter what the thoughts, no matter whether the memories were good or bad, they had been there. Every single day. Until now.

The guilt was horrendous. From the second he’d got up that morning he’d thought about Lexi, knowing that she was meeting him at Kate’s.

He’d even thought about her at some points today during surgery. Unthinkable.

The only time today he’d given Bonnie any thought had been the tiniest fleeting moment at the end of the interview when he’d walked out.

But it had vanished in a flash when he’d realised his reaction had been over the top and his priority had been to apologise to Lexi. Not to sit down for a few seconds and wonder why he was so mixed up. Wonder why he was reacting in such an irrational way.

Somewhere along the way an invisible line had been crossed without him even realising it. A line that he’d drawn in the sand years ago to protect himself from taking actions that could affect the life of another. The consequences were too big a cross to bear.

Casual relationships were fine. But Lexi was no one’s casual relationship. And he’d known that from the second he’d seen her and realised the affect she had on him.

Avoiding her had been a self-preservation technique—one he should have stuck to.

‘Iain? Iain, what’s wrong?’ Her voice was still breathy, panting, as if she was full of pent-up frustration. The last thing he needed right now. What he needed right now was space. Distance. As much as possible.

‘This was a mistake. A big mistake.’ With every word he stepped back a little further, as if it helped him say the words.

A splash of rain landed on his nose and he looked upwards at the dark sky above him. Clouds were circling above his head in more ways than one.

‘I have to go. I’m sorry, Lexi. Let’s just leave it. Just leave it alone.’

She started to shake her head. Utter confusion was painted across her face and his gut clenched at the fact he’d hurt her. It had never been his intention. Things had just got out of control.

‘But, Iain—’

He whipped away as the rain started to deluge the pavement around him, his stride lengthening with every step.

He didn’t care about the weather, he didn’t care about the rain.

He just needed to get away from her. Get away from her intoxicating scent. Even as he walked down the street he could still smell her—smell her perfume on his clothes.

He lifted his hand and something reflected under the orange streetlight. A strand of shiny blonde hair, glittering like a moonlit stream. She was everywhere.

Not just in his head.

Guilt ground away at him. He should be thinking of Bonnie and his lost children. He should be remembering the terrible impact he’d had on three lives, all because he’d persuaded his beautiful wife to give IVF one last try. She hadn’t been sure. The previous two attempts had been tougher than either of them had anticipated, and they’d almost resigned themselves to the fact that they wouldn’t have a family by a natural means.

And he’d felt fine about that.

So, why, why had he pushed for one last try? Even he couldn’t fathom out the details now. The decision seemed so ridiculous, so misguided. And that had been before the eventual outcome.

Carrying two tiny white coffins next to his wife’s had been the end of Iain McKenzie.

It had been the end of the light-hearted, laughter-filled man that he’d become thanks to Bonnie. She had always been the person to lift his sometimes dark moods. She’d always been the glass-half-full kind of girl.

She’d been his shining light. And look what he’d done to her.

‘Beloved Wife. Beloved Son. Beloved Daughter.’

The words etched in gold on the black granite, along with the three red poppies, were forever in the back of his mind.

Maybe he’d been wrong to come to London. Maybe he should have stayed in Edinburgh, where he could have visited the grave every day?

But the smoky strands of depression had been circling around his brain. Creeping up on him with their strangulating hands. His parents, his friends and his family had all urged him to go with Leo. They had told him it was for the best. They had told him he needed a fresh start.

They hadn’t counted on Lexi Robbins.

And, three years later, neither had he.

CHAPTER SIX

THE DEMONS WERE whispering in Lexi’s ear again. Those horrible little voices of self-doubt and self-deprecation.

She’d fought hard to keep them at bay as it seemed as if there had been constant reinforcement of them in her life.

First from her parents. Then from her boyfriend. The one who’d liked her name and standing instead of Lexi Robbins the person, Lexi Robbins, the human being.

Jack Parker had spent most of his time mocking her bedroom performance and mocking her flat chest. It had taken her a long time to get the measure of him. And it had been at his insistence that she’d gone for the boob job.

Her hands went automatically to her breasts. Automatically to the over-sensitised skin that Iain McKenzie had just been touching.

The rain was pelting down, soaking straight through her thin raincoat and even thinner jersey dress. But Lexi didn’t care about the rain.

She was feeling a surge of anger in her belly.

It had taken too long, too many years for her to come to terms with who she really was and not who people thought she should be. The gentle, steady support from her aunt had been invaluable. She wasn’t about to stand back and let those old feelings invade her life again.

She was strong now. She was determined.

She leaned back against the wall as her legs gave way a little under the maelstrom of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her.

She could see her ex’s face in her mind. The super-confident Jack Parker squeezing her small breasts contemptuously and comparing them to the latest model in the newspaper. Telling her that she’d never look good in their holiday shots in the Bahamas. The ones that he’d tipped the newspapers off about.

And his caustic, consistent putdowns had chipped away at her already low self-esteem.

She had already worn two sets of chicken fillets in her bra. She hadn’t particularly liked her body shape herself. Dresses that had fitted her around the hips and thighs had sagged over her chest—unless she’d worn her chicken fillets. But she could have lived with that because the rest of the world hadn’t seen her naked.

Only Jack had. But he hadn’t liked what he’d seen.

It had taken all her strength and resilience to get rid of him. Once she’d had the breast implants he’d started suggesting other improvements. So she’d made the ultimate improvement and got rid of him—tossing his clothes out onto the street—before he’d dragged her down any further.

She would never, ever let another man do that to her.

Let another man make her feel that way.

Not even Iain McKenzie.

It had taken her time to accept the changes to her body. To finally realise that she did actually like the shape she had now. She only wished she’d made the decision for herself. She wouldn’t let anyone chip away at her self-esteem again.

She started to walk in the rain. Striding down the same street that he’d taken, following the road to his townhouse. She didn’t care that it was late at night. She didn’t care that she was the only person crazy enough to be out in weather like this—right now it matched her mood.

And as if to magnify her building temper, there was a flash of lightning above her, closely followed by a rumble of thunder.

Her anger built with every step she took.

She knew there was something between them. Any fool could see that.

How dared he call what had just happened a mistake?

He’d felt every single thing that she’d felt. He’d felt every tiny little spark and electric current that she had.

He’d been every bit as turned on as she’d been.

Did he think this was something she did every day—in the middle of the street?

No. She wouldn’t let him treat her like that. Not for a second. Not in this lifetime.

Her footsteps quickened. Her normally bouncy curled hair was drenched, hanging in bedraggled ropelike swaths around her head. She reached up and rubbed her eye, coming away with a dark-washed smudge. What little mascara had been there was now obviously streaked down her face. But she didn’t care.

She had no desire to go home and get changed. To strip off her wet clothes and climb under a warm duvet. The lightning flashed again. It was spurring her on, guiding her path straight to his door.

She climbed up his steps and put one finger on his doorbell, pressing hard and leaving it there. The other hand she clenched into a fist and banged on the door. She wouldn’t be ignored. She wouldn’t let Iain ignore whatever this was between them.

The door creaked open just as a rumble of thunder sounded overhead again and the dark clouds pitched above her.

Iain was bare-chested, obviously in the middle of stripping off his clothes. The dark circles under his eyes and shadow along his jaw only fed her fury even more.

‘Lexi! What are you doing here?’

She pushed past him—not waiting to be asked to come in, and stood in the middle of his wide hallway, letting a huge puddle of rainwater form at her feet.

She clenched her jaw. ‘You. Won’t. Treat. Me. Like. That.’ Every word was forced. Every word angrily controlled.

His hands were trembling as he closed the door behind her, shutting out the storm outside but not the one inside.

She said nothing. Stared him down. Watched the changing emotions on his face. She was strong enough for this. Whatever it might be.

She could see the pulse throbbing at the base of his neck, see every dark, curly chest hair standing on end.

But he didn’t say a word. Not a single thing.

He just moved. And started kissing her like she’d never been kissed before.

CHAPTER SEVEN

IT WAS FIVE O’CLOCK in the morning and the first early streams of light were edging their way through the gap in the curtains. Lexi turned over in bed, her hand coming up automatically and touching her still-damp hair. It seemed impossible to believe that shaggy-haired Iain didn’t possess a hairdryer, and her thick, long hair held the dampness, causing her to spend most of the night turning her pillow over.

‘Wanna swap?’ Iain was watching her with his dark brown eyes.

‘Absolutely.’ She smiled. ‘I’m ruthless when it comes to bedding.’ She grabbed the pillow he offered and sank down into the soft dryness, pushing the still-damp one in his direction.

He picked up a lock of her blonde hair. ‘Doesn’t matter if your hair is damp, Lexi. You still look beautiful.’

She shifted in the bed, instantly uncomfortable. ‘You don’t need to talk me into bed, Iain, I’m already here.’

His eyes widened. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’

She pulled the light sheet a little closer to her body and sighed. ‘I know I’m not beautiful, Iain. I’ve spent my life living in the shadow of the “world’s most beautiful woman”,’ She lifted her fingers in the air to make imaginary quote marks. ‘You just learn to accept that will never be you.’

Ian lifted his head and propped it up on his hand. ‘What do you see when you look in the mirror, Lexi?’

She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m betting you don’t see what I do. Not even close.’

She pulled the sheet up above her breasts, as if shielding herself from him. She was almost too scared to ask the next question. ‘What do you see?’ she whispered.

He lifted a finger and traced it lightly down the side of her cheek. ‘I see a gorgeous young woman, with beautiful skin, perfectly intact—not damaged by the sun in any way.’ He ran his finger over her eyelids. ‘I see the most beautiful blue eyes. There’s a little hint of turquoise and they remind me of the sea next to a Caribbean island.’ His finger dusted her eyelids. ‘I see thick, dark lashes that most women would give their eye teeth for and a pair of lips that were exclusively designed for kissing me.’

She smiled and he leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. She closed her eyes a little. ‘Okay, so I’m starting to like that.’

His hand drifted under the sheet and she felt herself tense a little. He hadn’t mentioned her surgery. Hadn’t mentioned it at all. And it struck her as strange. He was a surgeon. He’d known from the very first time their bodies had made contact that she’d had surgery. And he had certainly appreciated her breasts last night.

The pads of his fingers caressed her shoulders then followed the curves of her body. He pulled the sheet back a little. ‘I’d ask you who did them, but I might get a little jealous. Because they’re perfect.’ His finger danced along the almost invisible scar under one of her breasts.

‘You really think so?’ Her voice was hesitant. She’d expected him to criticise. For all he was a surgeon himself, he didn’t seem to rate cosmetic surgery very highly.

He nodded slowly, his eyelids still heavy with fatigue. ‘I just wonder why you felt as if you needed them.’

It was a natural question, particularly for a surgeon, but it instantly caused her to bristle.

For a second it crossed her mind to lie. To act with a whole lot of bravado. But she was done with pretending to be something she was not. She was Lexi Robbins and she was proud of who she was.

‘I didn’t want them. Not to begin with. My ex—Jack told me to get them. He wore me down, kept telling me my flat chest did nothing for him and it made me feel as if I wasn’t worthy of our relationship.’

Anger flared instantly in Iain’s eyes. ‘What?’ He sat up, his voice incredulous. ‘Why on earth would he do that? You’re gorgeous, Lexi—and I’m sure you were absolutely perfect. What a complete—’

Her hand reached up and cut him off. ‘Iain. Don’t. I’ve spent a long time coming to terms with this. Jack never really loved me and it took a long time for me to understand that. Jack loved the idea of me. Who my parents were. The fact my name attracted attention. The fact my name meant we got invited to every fancy party in town.’

Iain’s expletives filled the room. ‘Of all the low-down, monkey-brained—’

‘Stop that. Don’t insult monkeys. They’re highly intelligent creatures.’

But she could see the fire was still burning in his belly. ‘I don’t get it, Lexi. Why would you let anyone persuade you to have surgery? Didn’t your surgeon ask you questions about why you were there? I thought he’d done a good job but now I’m not so sure.’

She shook her head. ‘I gave him all the right answers, Iain. He didn’t do anything wrong.’ She sighed and lay back against the pillow again, her hands coming up and resting on her breasts. ‘I’ve come to like my boobs. They’ve given me more confidence. They’ve made me feel better about myself. Deep down, I was never really happy with my shape—Jack just amplified my own feelings in a cruel way.’

There must have been something on her face, something about the way she said the words.

Iain’s face darkened even further. ‘Was that all he did?’

She hesitated as she felt a little flush of colour come to her cheeks. It seemed ridiculous. She’d just spent the night with Iain, was lying naked in bed with him, and she was embarrassed to say the words.

‘What is it?’ he coaxed, intertwining his fingers with hers.

‘He said other things too. He didn’t just comment on my breasts—or lack of them. He told me I should be taking lessons … for other things.’

It took a few seconds for the penny to drop and Lexi was cringing. It was bad enough that Jack had said those things in the first place. She’d never told another living soul about them.

Iain looked incredulous. ‘He said what? How dared he?’

She looked down and shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m not the most experienced. I’ve only ever had a few long-term relationships.’

‘And he thought he would criticise you?’ Iain’s voice was aghast. ‘Lexi, he should have been grateful, honoured even that you let him get that close to you. That you trusted him enough to share yourself with him. He shouldn’t have been criticising your technique!’

The fury of his words made her want to bury her head under the pillow. She kept her eyes averted. ‘This isn’t normal for me, Iain. This isn’t what I do. I don’t do—this.’

He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to look at his. ‘I get that. And I didn’t get that because I thought you were inexperienced.’ He gave her little smile. ‘I have no complaints at all—quite the contrary, in fact. I enjoyed every second. You were perfect.’

Was it wrong that those words gave her a little buzz all the way down to her toes? Was it wrong that she couldn’t help but smile? Smile at the gorgeous, handsome, strapping man who was lying next to her in bed, telling her that he thought she was perfect?