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 yourself?’
She was staring at him with those big blue eyes. Smiling, with her open face and manner. He could almost forget that the camera was in the room with them.
‘Well, there’s not much to tell. I grew up in Edinburgh, Scotland. I did my university and medical training at hospitals in Edinburgh. I was a Scout—though not a very good one. I could never master the art of lighting a fire.’ He raised his eyebrows at Lexi, who let out a little laugh.
‘Our patients would like to know a little more about the man behind the surgeon’s mask. How about I ask you some questions?’
He shifted in his chair a little uncomfortably. From this position it was still too easy to keep his eyes on Lexi’s legs.
She leaned forward a little, as if she was trying to encourage him. It also gave him the slightest hint of her cleavage down her firmly fastened white blouse. Cleavage that he would love to get his hands on—to see who had done her surgery and whether it met with his approval. To see whether it was right for Lexi.
Those legs again and the thoughts of having his hands on her breasts was causing a familiar sensation. One that a camera certainly shouldn’t see. He shifted his position.
‘Let’s try some quick-fire questions.’
‘Yes, let’s.’ The words came out almost unconsciously. It must be fatigue. That must be why he was being so pliable. That, or the fact he needed to try some distraction techniques right now. Normally, by this point he would have got up and walked away. Personal questions really went against all his principles.
‘Movies—action or drama?’
He shook his head. ‘Neither. Sci-fi. Every single time.’ These kinds of question were fine. They were harmless. Inane.
‘Italian, Chinese or Indian food?’
‘Depends entirely what day of the week it is—and, what I’m doing the next day. Italian, with no garlic, if I’m operating the next day. Chinese if it’s heading towards a weekend. And Indian food on a Saturday night, preferably with a pint.’
‘A pint?’
‘You know.’ He lifted and gestured with his wrist. ‘Like all good Scotsmen. A pint of beer.’
She smiled again. ‘Just the one?’
He shrugged. ‘Normally, depends on the company.’
She paused, as if taking in those words, then glanced back down at her notes. ‘Best job—apart from the Hunter Clinic, of course.’
He frowned, racking his brain. ‘There are two—completely different from each other. One, as a trainee I spent two months with the mountain rescue team in the Swiss Alps. Learnt more in those two months than I did at any
other point in my training. It was fabulous.’
Lexi nodded. ‘And the second?’
‘Voluntary work. I visited one of the Romanian orphanages a number of years ago and did some of the specialist cleft-lip and palate surgeries that I described earlier.’ His voice lowered. ‘It was a real eye-opener. And a really rewarding time. I’m planning on going back next summer.’
Lexi was looking excited. ‘The Hunter Clinic will be supporting some charity work and has just joined up with Olivia Fairchild’s charity Fair Go. Will you be available to do some work for that charity, Iain?’
The way she said the words was so innocent. So off the cuff. But he knew fine well she was capturing him on tape. Just as well he’d already had this conversation with Leo Hunter and had agreed to help in any way he could. ‘I’m happy to help the Hunter Clinic in any charity that they choose to support—just as they are happy to help me, in any charity I choose to support.’ Touché. These things worked both ways.
Lexi was still leaning forward. Still making him feel as if it were only the two of them in the room. It was starting to fire his imagination again. Make him remember the things that had kept him from sleeping last night.
She gave him her dazzling smile. ‘What about your favourite holiday?’
It was an innocent question. A completely innocuous question. But for Iain it hit a nerve he was unprepared for. Pictures were instantly conjured up in his mind. Pictures of a perfect honeymoon in Venice, with thousands of images of the multicoloured houses, the islands, the canals, the gondolas and the wonders of St Mark’s Square. If he breathed in deeply enough he could practically smell the place. The words formed on his lips without him even thinking. ‘Venice, for my honeymoon. It was beautiful. The most perfect city in the world.’
‘You were married?’
The surprised tone in Lexi’s voice brought him to his senses. He knew he should answer this casually. It had been a slip. His fault, something he didn’t normally reveal, and he could have kicked himself for saying the words out loud.