200 Harley Street: Girl from the Red Carpet. Scarlet WilsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
his focus had still been on his patients, for the first time he’d been conscious of his peripheral vision. The set of pale pink scrubs and wide blue eyes that had occasionally caught his attention.
It had been like a constant, persistent itch. And in Iain’s mind the only way to deal with an itch was to scratch it. Maybe if he bent just a little and gave Lexi the interview she wanted she would move on to the 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?’
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