to advertise.’
Lexi settled back into her chair. He was right. The place had a certain ambience about it, as if the celebrities who were there knew their privacy would be guarded. She had dined around lots of people like this, but she’d never seen them quite so relaxed—quite so unguarded. Would the same rules apply to Iain? Was this why he’d brought her here?
The guy from the door appeared and handed them menus. He looked at Lexi and held out his hand. ‘I haven’t met you before, have I?’
She shook her head and met his firm handshake. ‘Lexi Robbins. I work with Iain.’
‘Lucky man. I’m Frank. If it’s not on the menu—just ask and I’ll make it for you. I can handle all the allergy quirks, all the special diets, but if you’re a crazy who just doesn’t want any calories then I’ll pour you a glass of water and charge you a hundred bucks.’
She laughed, instantly liking the big Australian, then grabbed her stomach as it let out a little grumble.
He looked skyward. ‘My favourite noise in the world. What will it be, lady?’
Lexi handed him back the menu. She’d barely even glanced at it but felt as if she could trust his judgement. ‘I’m a chicken girl. Do anything you like with it—except give me bones.’
Frank blew some of his hair off his forehead. ‘Amateur!’ He turned to Iain, ‘Go on, master of the universe. Surprise me.’
Iain rolled his eyes. ‘If you keep talking to me like that, I won’t come back.’
‘Fat chance.’
He nodded and handed over his menu. ‘You’re right. I’ll have the usual.’
Frank disappeared muttering, only to reappear and plonk a bottle of red wine on the table along with a couple of glasses.
Iain lifted the bottle and gave a smile. ‘Are you okay with red, or would you prefer something else?’
She lifted her glass towards him. ‘Red’s fine. Just not too much.’
Iain filled her glass part way then did the same with his own.
‘To Frank’s?’
She smiled and clinked glasses with him. ‘To Frank’s. Here’s hoping the food is as good as you promised.’
Iain nodded with confidence. ‘You’ve nothing to worry about here.’ He looked around at their surroundings. ‘This place is all about chilling and relaxing. That’s why I brought you here. We could have gone to Drake’s but the food, and the company, are infinitely better here.’
She smiled. Drake’s would be packed to the rafters right now—probably with most of the staff from the Hunter Clinic and St Catherine’s. It was unlikely they would have managed to have any kind of conversation in there.
‘Who is Frank?’
‘Just a sad Australian who needed an op one day. He told me he owned a restaurant and invited me for dinner after that.’
‘You’re not going to reveal?’
He shook his head. ‘Only if you get me drunk.’
There it was. That little hint of humour that appeared on the rarest of occasions. She liked it. It proved that the gruff exterior of Iain McKenzie wasn’t as rock solid as it first seemed and the man could actually laugh at himself.
He set his glass on the table. ‘So, Lexi Robbins. I’m curious about you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t know much about you.’
She sighed. ‘Haven’t you ever read a newspaper or a gossip magazine? My life’s been pretty much an open book since the second I was born.’
‘Yeah, but that’s not the kind of thing I want to know.’
She leaned forward a little. ‘So what do you want to know, Iain McKenzie?’
She hadn’t meant it to come out that way. Slightly flirtatious. Slightly coy. But they were sitting in a darkened candlelit restaurant in the middle of London after a stressful day. She really didn’t want to have to think too hard. She was only doing what came naturally.
His eyes skimmed over her. She could feel them. Taking in her loose curls and comfortably fitted dress. She hadn’t bothered with much make-up, only reapplying her lipstick and adding some mascara.
His finger ran round the rim of his glass. ‘I’m curious why Leo Hunter hired you to be the head of PR. You must be good—you must be very good, because everyone working at the clinic was handpicked by Leo.’
‘And the implication is that I don’t seem that good?’ Her reaction was instant. She could get angry. She could get upset and tearful. But to be frank she’d heard it all before and was far too tired to fight. She leaned back in her seat and took a sip of her wine.
‘I didn’t say that.’ His voice was quiet. Controlled. As if he was trying to get the measure of her.
She let out a sigh. ‘You didn’t have to, Iain. A million others have implied it before you.’
His eyebrow rose ever so slightly. ‘Why would they do that?’
She took another sip of wine. It was official. A few sips were definitely hitting the right spot and relaxing her. That’s what happened when you hardly managed to eat all day.
‘Let’s start at the very beginning. You might have guessed I was a bit of an accessory to my parents.’
‘That seems a bit harsh.’
She let out a snort. ‘Try living it. It gets a bit much when they constantly tell you you’re not pretty enough or good enough.’
Iain leaned forward, his eyes practically smoking. ‘Your parents did that?’
She shook her head a little. ‘Not in so many words. It was implied—in a lot of ways. I was constantly in the press, being compared to my mother, the supermodel. What girl really wants to spend her life being told she’s not as pretty as her mother?’ Lexi lowered her eyes. ‘I focused on other things. I was academic. I liked school, I guess in that respect I took after my father. Then I had a bit of an accident and I was out of school for a while.’
‘What happened?’ She could see the concern on his face and felt a lump forming in her throat. So much time had passed. It had been so long ago. She’d got over this and put it behind her, she didn’t feel the need to go into details.
‘I had a horse-riding accident and needed some major surgery.’ It was best to leave the specifics out. ‘My mum and dad were there for a few days, but they were busy. They both had contractual obligations. So once they knew I would live but need some serious recuperation, they handed me over to my Aunt Jo.’
Iain wrinkled his nose. ‘I thought you said your family was permanently in the papers. I’ve not heard of your Aunt Jo.’
Lexi
