Читать книгу 200 Harley Street - Lynne Marshall - Страница 40

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?

Even though she hadn’t realised she’d been holding it, her breath came out in a long, steady stream.

She looked back into his eyes. ‘Everything has changed. I’m a different person than I used to be—and not just physically. I like how I look now. I’m comfortable in my own skin. I love the fact that I’m doing a job that makes me happy. I don’t care that my parents don’t appreciate it. I know the value of the job I do. I’ve raised more money in the last few weeks than even I thought possible. I’ve got another few trips overseas to speak to some more potential clients.’ She ran her fingers along the stubble on his jaw. ‘And I’ve got a whole host of plans for raising the profile of the Harley Street clinic, some of which include a hunky Scotsman …’ she gave him a wink ‘… who might even wear a kilt for me.’

He rolled his eyes and she laughed, before rolling back onto her back and putting her hands on her breasts again. ‘This is me, Lexi Robbins. Take me or leave me.’

Iain’s hand came over and rested over one of hers. ‘So you’re happy?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, Iain, I’m happy.’

His hand ran down the outside of the sheet, resting on her hip. She wondered if he was about to ask other questions about her abdominal scar. Would she answer truthfully? Did she feel as if she could?

He wrinkled his nose at her. ‘Well, I’m not.’

Her stomach gave a little clench. What did he mean?

‘I want to find Jack Parker and wring his neck with my bare hands until I squeeze every last breath out of him. I want to bang his head off a wall to try and knock some sense into him. I want to take a walk down a dark alley late at night and show him what I think about how he treated you.’

She was struck by the intensity of his words. Maybe it was the aftermath of their lovemaking that had provoked such deep emotions in him but she could tell from the sincerity in his brown eyes that he’d meant every word.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘But this was about me dealing with things. I had to learn for myself that he wasn’t what I thought. I had to value myself enough to not allow him to treat me that way. He was never physical, he never laid a hand on me. But his constant comments on my face and figure wore me down. I’ve never felt so free than when I flung him out of our flat and dumped his designer wardrobe out of the window. At that point, it was probably the best moment of my life.’

Iain lifted his hand and rested it between her breasts. ‘But we both know that all beauty is superficial. I can make the most hideous person in the world look stunning on the outside. But it doesn’t change what’s in here. Who that person really is. There have never been truer words than “Beauty is only skin deep”.’

There was genuine warmth in his words, a warmth that swept around her like a comfortable blanket, shielding her from everything else. She could get used to this. She could get used to being shielded by Iain McKenzie.

‘I want you to know, Lexi Robbins, that you are one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. Both inside and out. And no matter what happens in the future, where we both end up, I want you to keep that with you. And if any time you’re feeling down, if you’ve had a bad day and can’t face things, I want you to come back and remember this moment, here and now.’

In one way the words were a comfort, and in another they made her stomach clench again. She’d no idea what she expected from Iain—none of this had been planned. But there seemed to be a little edge to those words. As if he knew there would never be a future for them so he was just giving her this moment instead.

And the fact was she’d never felt so perfect as she did at this moment. She’d never felt so valued.

He stroked his fingers down her face again. ‘We need to talk. There are some other things I need to tell you. But first I want to show you just how special you are.’

And for the next few hours he did.

By the time Iain woke up the sun was streaming through the windows. He turned to face Lexi. She was smiling. A real, genuine smile of contentment.

‘How long have you been awake?’

She looked over at the clock. ‘About ten minutes.’ She lay back and stretched her arms above her head. ‘I was waiting for you to make me breakfast,’ she said with a glint in her eye.

‘Do you have any preferences?’

‘Do you have any food?’

He cringed. ‘Have you already been up and looked through my cupboards?’

She touched his chin. ‘You just strike me as a guy who doesn’t do a weekly shop.’

He laughed. ‘You’re right. If you wanted dinner right now we’d be in trouble. But breakfast I can do. How does poached egg, toast and bacon sound?’

‘Heavenly.’ She glanced towards his en suite. ‘Can I use your shower while you make breakfast?’

‘Of course.’ Iain pulled on his dressing-gown and headed to the kitchen. His stomach was churning. He’d never brought a woman back to his London house before, let alone back to his bedroom. He’d spent so long partitioning these parts of his life and keeping himself away from people.

Of course he socialised when he had to. He kept in contact with some of his old friends in Edinburgh—but those were fleeting hello-goodbye moments. But since moving down to London he hadn’t really been seeking the company of friends. He wasn’t really looking for friends. He was only looking for partial distractions. And his gut told him Lexi Robbins could never fit into that category.

He started boiling water in one pan, put the bacon under the grill and the bread in the toaster. The coffee was easy, he had a bright and shiny machine he hardly used. All he had to do was flick a switch.

He turned, his eyes catching on a photo on the window ledge. A photo of Bonnie, sitting on top of a hill in Edinburgh on a sunny day. She had wrapped her long pink flowered dress around her legs to stop it flapping in the wind and her hair was completely windswept.

Something curled inside him. It was going to be the three of them sitting in this kitchen, having breakfast. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.

Everything with Lexi was so new. Attraction aside, he didn’t even know how he felt about her yet. Sure, she was beautiful. Sure, she was intelligent. But did that add up to anything else?

For a split second he considered putting the photo in a drawer. But as quickly as the thought flew into his head he pushed it aside. He could never treat Bonnie as if she hadn’t existed. He owed her so much more than that.

And Lexi was no fool. She knew nothing about his past. She would ask about the photo on the window ledge. It was if a dozen little pinpricks started on his shoulders at once. He would tell her. He would tell her about Bonnie. She’d been a big part of his life and she deserved her place there.

The bacon sizzled just as the coffee machine started to splutter and the water in the pot boiled. He dropped in the eggs and pulled out some plates and cutlery.

Lexi appeared a few minutes later, looking like the kind of pin-up poster a teenage boy would have on his bedroom wall.

She’d clipped her hair haphazardly on top of her head and pulled one of his long-sleeved blue shirts from his cupboard. The bottom buttons were fastened and the top two left tantalisingly open. Along with her long legs and pink toenails, the effect was stunning.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t think my dress will ever recover. It’s spent the night on the floor in a sodden mess. Hope you don’t mind.’

‘Of course I don’t.’ He set the coffee on the table. ‘Cappuccino okay for you?’

‘Of course.’ She lifted the coffee cup to her lips and smiled. ‘Don’t be too good at this. I might get comfortable.’

There was that little tumble in his stomach again. He didn’t know how to react to that. The toast popped and he buttered it and placed it on the table, alongside the bacon and the newly poached eggs.

Lexi started piling food on her plate and Iain watched with pleasure. It was the second time he’d eaten with Lexi, and for all her slim frame she wasn’t afraid to eat. Thank goodness. He couldn’t stand being around a picky eater.

Iain took a few mouthfuls then set his fork down. He didn’t even get a chance to say a word.

‘You said you wanted to talk, Iain. What is it? Is this where you tell me this is a wham-bam, thank you, ma’am?’

Boy, she was direct. Another thing he liked about her. This was getting harder all the time.

He shook his head and took a quick drink of his thick, strong coffee. He took a deep breath, but when he exhaled it came out more like a sigh.

‘Spit it out, Scots boy.’

He nodded and pointed to the window ledge before he changed his mind. ‘I wanted to introduce you to someone.’

Lexi looked up at the photo of the pretty dark-haired woman. ‘She’s lovely. Who is she? Your sister?’

‘My wife.’

Lexi set her cup on the table, her face frozen. ‘Please tell me you’re not still married. I don’t sleep with married men.’ She was deadly serious and her face was deathly pale.

‘I’m widowed,’ he said quickly.

There was a visible sigh of relief from across the table. She took a deep breath, her eyes full of sympathy for him. He wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. He’d had enough darned sympathy to last a lifetime. He just wanted her to understand.

‘I’m really sorry about your loss, Iain. I can’t imagine what that feels like.’

There was a tight feeling in his chest. A kettlebell from the gym had just positioned itself on his chest, pushing the air out of his lungs and making him struggle for breath. He was going to see this through. He was. Once he’d told her, that was it—it was out there.

‘It won’t surprise you to know I don’t talk about my personal life much. That’s why I came down to London. To get away from things. The only person who knows what happened is Leo.’

‘Don’t worry. I won’t breathe a word.’

He tried to find the words in his head. He wasn’t just doing this for himself, he was doing it for her too. ‘Bonnie—my wife—died giving birth to our twins. There were complications. My son and daughter died too.’

Her hand had gone automatically to her mouth and her eyes had widened in shock. This wasn’t your everyday conversation.

He put his elbows on the table for a second and put his head in his hands. He was trying not to let the familiar wave of emotions wash over him. He needed to keep himself together.

He ran his tongue along his dry lips. ‘I wanted you to know that when I walked away last night—I wasn’t walking away from you. It wasn’t about you.’ He pressed his hand to his chest. ‘It was about me feeling guilty. I haven’t been with anyone since my wife died.’

‘Oh, Iain …’ There were tears glistening in her eyes and in a second she was up on her bare feet, walking round the kitchen table and standing behind him, linking her hands around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest behind him, feel her warm breath on his cheek. He lifted up his hand and linked it with hers.

‘Lexi, I just want you to know—’

‘Don’t say it.’

He pulled her hand, adjusting his position in the chair until he was sitting sideways and could pull her onto his lap.

‘I don’t know about anything. I can’t promise you anything. Because I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’m there yet.’ She looked so young, so vulnerable. The very last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

He put his finger under her chin and pulled her head up to meet his eyes. They were almost nose to nose and he had the clearest view he’d ever had of her beautiful blue eyes. ‘I want you to know that I think you’re gorgeous. I think you’re very desirable. And if I make a mess of things here, it’s because there’s something wrong with me, not you. You’re every man’s dream come true.’ He lowered his voice. ‘But not every man deserves you, Lexi. And not every man is ready for you.’

There was a waver in her eyes, a sign of hesitation. Then she took a deep breath, her chest rose and her shoulders straightened. Her fingers wound their way through his shaggy brown hair. ‘Thank you for telling me about your wife, Iain. I appreciate this is hard. And it’s new. I won’t tell anyone about your wife. And I guess we can just wait to see how things go.’

She smiled at him, and it was an older, more resigned smile. ‘I’m not looking for you to save me. After my last experience I’m just looking for someone to treat me with respect and value my opinions. How about we go from there?’

He could see she was holding back. He could see there was something in her eyes that she was keeping from him. Guarding herself and guarding her heart. The sensible option. And he respected that. He could live with that, because he hadn’t told her everything yet. That might come later.

She stood up. ‘You’re still going to be grumpy at the clinic, though, aren’t you?’

He took a bite of his toast. ‘Obviously. Why change the habit of a lifetime?’ He looked at the clock. ‘Are you due there today?’

She nodded and looked down at the pale blue shirt. ‘I don’t have any appointments until later today—and then some into the evening. I have a few interviews lined up with some national papers and I still need to edit your interview. Oh, and get you to pose for some publicity shots.’

‘I am not wearing a kilt.’

She tilted her head to the side and folded her arms. ‘I might be able to think of a way to persuade you. How much time have you got?’

‘A few hours. I need to go to the Lighthouse to check on one of my patients. But they aren’t expecting me until around eleven.’ He abandoned the toast. He much preferred the other offer. ‘How do you think you can persuade me?’

‘Have you got a bath? A big bath?’ She had that gleam in her eye as she took his hand and led him towards the stairs.

Her voice drifted along the corridor. ‘And what I’d really like is some bubbles …’