200 Harley Street: Girl from the Red Carpet. Scarlet Wilson

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200 Harley Street: Girl from the Red Carpet - Scarlet Wilson Mills & Boon Medical

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and let out a gasp, reaching out towards the blackness in front of her and hitting the edge of the chesterfield lounge—and a whole lot more.

      There was movement. Sudden, powerful movement and none of it was hers. Lexi felt the breath leave her body as she found herself spun around and pushed flat on her back onto the chesterfield lounge.

      Her heart pounded in her chest, the thudding reverberating in her ears. She tried to reach out and fight her attacker as an adrenaline surge hit her body. Fight or flight had never seemed more apt. But the arms holding her down were fierce. Fierce and strong, very strong.

      Her breath seemed caught in her throat, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Her attacker’s weight was pressing down on her chest, affecting her ability to take a deep breath.

      She still couldn’t see. It was just darkness, pure and utter darkness. Like your worst nightmare and most hated horror movie all rolled into one.

      She heard a grunt. And it gave her the faintest glimmer of hope.

      It was a grunt she thought she recognised. Usually when she was trying to persuade him to acknowledge her existence.

      She fought to push the word from her throat. ‘Iain?’ she croaked.

      Iain had finally managed to grab a few minutes’ precious sleep. There was no point in going home. No matter how exhausted he was—or how many hours he’d spent in theatre, making the world look ‘more beautiful’—sleep evaded him the second he stepped through his doorway.

      Too much quiet. Too much time to let his brain spin around and around, going over all aspects of his past. Every decision made, every conversation, every cross word, every pleaded case. If only he’d taken the road less travelled.

      It didn’t matter that he’d moved from Edinburgh to London. His house had too many memories and too many familiar knick-knacks that he couldn’t face putting away. That would be like a betrayal.

      So he’d spent half the day playing cat and mouse with Lexi Robbins. The woman wouldn’t give him a moment’s peace. Boy, was she tenacious—his gran would have loved her. All over an interview that he’d cancelled at the last minute and publicity that he couldn’t really care less about.

      And just when the muscles in his body had finally started to relax—just when the last remnants of tension had finally managed to exit his body—this.

      Noise. In the Hunter Clinic in the middle of the night.

      Noise. In a place where he was supposed to be alone.

      The assailant was smaller than he expected. Lighter than he expected too. Probably in search of drugs or the elusive cosmetic fillers that Harley Street was so famous for.

      Then it hit him. That smell.

      The smell that had been haunting him around the clinic for the last few days.

      Strike that. Actually, for the last few months. Ever since Lexi Robbins had started working there.

      Sensual woody amber distinctive notes with gentle floral notes of jasmine. Along with the feel of some very distinctive soft curves that only a plastic surgeon could recognise merely by touch.

      He could feel the assailant’s soft breath beneath him, along with the strangled voice. ‘Iain?’

      ‘Lexi?’ He sprang backwards, moving swiftly to the door and trying to flick on the light. Nothing. Still darkness.

      ‘I think I blew the lights,’ came the whisper from the couch. She was still breathless. He’d obviously winded her.

      After a few seconds she fumbled for her phone and pressed the button to light up the room. She held it towards him. ‘Do you know where the master switch is?’

      Rage was circulating in his belly. What on earth was she doing? He snatched the phone from her hand and strode down the corridor towards the electricity box, opening it quickly and flicking the master switch, allowing instant illumination in parts of the clinic.

      Bright. White. Everywhere.

      Sometimes he could groan out loud about the décor in the clinic. Leo Hunter had wanted brilliant white and clean lines everywhere—thank goodness he’d been allowed to decorate his office to his own taste.

      But now that he could actually see what he was doing he was furious.

      ‘What were you thinking of, Lexi?’ He stormed back into the room.

      But Lexi hadn’t moved. Even though the room was now flooded with light she was still lying on the couch, her hands pressed to her chest, her face as white as a sheet. One shoe was twisted on the floor, the other dangling from the end of her foot. Her usually pristine suit was a little askew and it looked as if the top button had popped from her shirt.

      Yikes! He’d thought he was tackling a burglar. Maybe he’d been a little more forceful than he thought.

      ‘Lexi? Are you okay?’ He stood over her, giving her a few seconds to collect herself.

      After what seemed like an age she finally blinked. Colour flooded into her face and she pushed herself up. ‘Wow. Talk about sweeping the legs from under a girl.’

      Iain felt colour come to his own cheeks. He was trying hard not to stare at Lexi’s cleavage. He was a plastic surgeon. He spent his days with his hands on women’s breasts. But he’d never clocked Lexi Robbins as a boob job kind of girl. She’d surprised him.

      In all the time she’d been around him in the last few months, wearing her designer suits, he’d never noticed her additions. But then again, he’d never seen her undressed.

      He pushed the thoughts that sprang to mind aside instantly. He sat down on one of the leather armchairs and put his head in his hands. ‘What on earth are you doing here at this time of night, Lexi?’ He was tired. And he was definitely feeling crabbit.

      She straightened on the couch, looking down at her shirt and frowning at the missing button. ‘I could ask you the same thing.’

      She was obviously feeling a bit better. Lexi Robbins could give as good as she got. He raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a cheeky smile. ‘Avoiding you?’

      She shot him a glare.

      He held up his hands. ‘Seriously, Lexi. I thought you were a burglar. You’re lucky I didn’t do you some permanent damage.’

      ‘Who says you didn’t?’

      She was adjusting herself on the couch and he felt instantly uncomfortable. What did she mean? He hadn’t done anything more than push her onto the couch and hold her down. There was no way he could have damaged her implants.

      Her blonde tousled hair fell over her face as she shuffled on the edge of the couch. Iain was torn between panic and embarrassment. It didn’t help that his curiosity was naturally piqued.

      He’d heard of Lexi before she’d started work here. Even for a man who had as little interest in celebrities as humanly possible—other than to contemplate what procedures they’d had done—it was impossible to miss Lexi Robbins.

      If

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