How could the theatre staff remain so calm? How could Iain keep his nerves in check? She felt sick just thinking about it, and from the look of her cameraman, he felt exactly the same.
Eventually Iain lifted his head, gave a nod and removed his head and eye set. He leaned back as far as he could, his back giving a painful crick.
Even beneath his mask she could see the corners of his eyes lift as he smiled. ‘That’s it, folks. You can talk again. We’ll move on to the next part of the surgery.’ The sigh of relief around the room was audible. Tense shoulders sagged and bad jokes started to circulate around the room again.
But Iain was in no way finished. He was joined at one point by Carol’s cancer specialist and the two of them reviewed the earlier CT scan to ensure Iain would capture all the lymph nodes affected. The surgery was painstaking. Iain was more exacting, more precise than she could have ever have imagined. The surgery that had been expected to take four hours actually took six, all because Iain was determined not only to remove every possible trace of cancer but also to give Carol the best cosmetic outcome possible.
When he finally finished he inserted a small plastic drain on either side of her neck. After the care and attention to detail Lexi was surprised. It seemed almost unsightly. Iain caught her expression and gave a little shake of his head. ‘We’ll need to keep these in place for the next twenty-four hours to help drain any excess fluid. It will give Carol a better result overall, even though it doesn’t look too pretty right now.’
He gave a final nod at the anaesthetist. ‘All yours, Tony. Let’s get some analgesia in and bring Carol round. I’ll be around for the next two hours if you have any concerns.’ He peeled off his gloves and mask. ‘Thank you, everyone, for your hard work and attention to detail today. Let’s do it all again on Thursday.’
It was almost as if his words gave her permission to sag against the wall. She’d found the day long, tiring, even though she’d been standing virtually in one spot. And this was just one day out of her life. Iain did this most days—sometimes every day—as well as seeing patients at the Hunter Clinic. No wonder he fell asleep in the office.
She watched as Iain moved back over to the theatre sinks to wash up. She could see the way the thin navy scrubs clung to every muscle, every sinew of his lithe body. He was chatting away to one of the scrub nurses as she cleaned the theatre around him. Not flirting. Just easy banter, the way they must act every day.
He was more relaxed in here than he was at the Hunter Clinic. And it didn’t take her long to realise why. This was home for Iain. This was his comfort zone.
Iain wasn’t renowned for his charm or easygoing manner. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was known for being gruff, sometimes downright blunt with colleagues and occasionally with patients. But his surgery spoke for itself. As did his patient recovery stories. No one could argue with those.
But if she wanted to increase publicity for the Hunter Clinic she was going to have to dig beneath the surface a little. Reveal a little of what she’d seen in Theatre today. The question was—how to do that? Iain was fiercely private and she was going to have to persuade him to lower his barriers just a touch to let their patients see the human side of the brilliant surgeon.
With the filming today she’d had a clear demonstration of his surgical skills and his commitment to the task. They’d even managed to capture some of his lighter moments with the theatre staff. All of this would be pure television gold, if only she could capture a little of the man as well.
She arched her back, just as he had done earlier. It didn’t make the same alarming cricking noise but it certainly stretched her aching muscles. She dragged her eyes away from Iain. From the shaggy hair that had been released from the theatre cap. The hair that she was imagining running her fingers through.
This would never do. She was a professional.
She was always a professional. She’d met numerous celebrities throughout her life and very few of them had impressed her. Very few of them had made her imagination run wild. Not like the way it was at the moment. It must just be fatigue. She was tired—that was all. She’d had a late night last night, after dropping Iain home, and then an early start again this morning. It couldn’t be anything else, could it?
She pushed open the door to the changing room and stripped off her pink scrubs and jumped into the shower. It only took a few minutes for the cool water to wake her up a little and she pulled on her red business suit and untied her hair, turning her head upside and down and giving it a good shake. After being confined up all day in a theatre cap, it felt good to finally have it loose again. Last she took her perfume from her bag and squirted liberally, finishing with her red lipstick.
There. Barely human again after how long? She checked her watch. Nearly twelve hours. Her stomach gave a loud rumble.
She was starving. And getting food—preferably of the unhealthy kind—was first on her list.
Iain was waiting at the changing-room doors, hoping he hadn’t missed her. Lexi Robbins had been on his radar all day. It was the first time anyone had been in his operating theatre who had actually threatened his focus.
Iain McKenzie was a surgeon who slid into ‘the zone’ whenever he operated. The patient was his absolute focus—and nothing else penetrated.
But today had been a little different. Even though 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 wit
h 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?’