200 Harley Street. Lynne Marshall

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      He was still watching Lexi from the corner of his eye. She had her head tilted to one side and looked as if she was concentrating fiercely. She was watching An and his mother talk in hushed voices. He glanced towards the doorway again, waiting for the translator. Speaking Chinese was not in his repertoire.

      But it appeared to be in Lexi’s.

      She walked over and knelt next to the little boy and his mother, trying a few hesitant words. The woman’s eyebrows shot skywards and after a few seconds she replied haltingly.

      Lexi smiled and tried again. This time she was a little more relaxed and the words flowed more freely. The exchange lasted a few minutes. Iain couldn’t believe his eyes. How did she know Chinese?

      He took a few steps closer. ‘Lexi?’

      She looked up. ‘I thought I recognised the language. It’s Gan with a Nanchang dialect.’

      ‘How on earth do you know that?’

      A wrinkle appeared across her brow. It was obvious she was choosing her words carefully. ‘Do you remember I told you I spent the summer with my aunt?’

      He nodded.

      ‘My aunt did lots of charity work. At that time most of her work was in some of the Chinese orphanages. She took me over there for a whole summer. It was the best summer of my life.’

      ‘You learned a Chinese dialect in one summer?’

      ‘I still go back,’ she said quietly. ‘Away from the spotlight. Every few years Jo and I go back to that same orphanage. I feel a real connection with it. I’ve spent a long time learning the language, the particular dialect. It makes the work so much more rewarding when I can converse with the children.

      ‘Some of those children were taken away from their parents against their will. The parents couldn’t afford to pay the fine for having more than one child. It’s awful. But we’ve tried to make things better. We have links with social services around the world and some of the children get adopted internationally.’

      ‘So, An is from the same area?’

      She nodded. ‘Yes. I’m not completely fluent, but I can easily make myself understood. You don’t need to wait for an interpreter.’

      Iain hesitated for a second. He was trying not to let his mouth hang open. But Lexi had just rendered him speechless.

      This was not what he had expected. And he was almost ashamed to think that.

      He’d been up close and personal with her. He knew she was much deeper than people assumed. But it was obvious he’d only scratched the surface—only got to know a little about the woman underneath the pretty façade.

      From her teenage years Lexi had spent summer after summer helping out at a Chinese orphanage. This was more than charity work for her. She was committed to this. Committed enough to learn the language.

      He’d spent a summer at a Romanian orphanage himself, operating on children with cleft lips and palates. He knew how much it sucked you in. How you would do anything to help. How you could think about nothing else.

      This was a whole new part of Lexi Robbins he hadn’t counted on.

      ‘Iain? Are we doing this?’

      He nodded, embarrassed by his long silence. ‘Of course … thank you.’

      He knelt down next to An, who was perched on his mother’s knee. The stitches on the skin along the little boy’s jaw had healed well. ‘Ask him how he’s managing to eat.’

      Lexi nodded and spoke quietly to his mother, listening to her reply and letting An answer too. She turned to Iain. ‘He’s fed up with soft foods.’ She gave him a smile. ‘He wants some chips.’

      Iain smiled. ‘Can you ask him to open his mouth so I can have a look at his dentition? Some of his teeth have been affected by the repositioning of his jaw.’

      Lexi only took a second to ask the question and An opened his mouth a little hesitantly. Iain bent down and looked inside, using a small torch, ‘Everything looks as though it’s healing well. I see no reason he can’t have a more substantial diet.’

      Lexi translated quickly. An’s face was still bruised and slightly swollen and his attempt at a smile lopsided. But it was the most satisfying thing that Iain could see.

      ‘Can you ask him about pain relief? If he’s going to eat a bit more he might need his analgesics adjusted for the next few days.’

      Lexi took a few minutes, taking her time while she spoke to An and his mother. She made it seem like the most natural thing in the world. It was obvious she wasn’t completely fluent, but she had more than a grasp of the language, and An and his mother seemed to appreciate being able to communicate with a member of staff.

      Lexi turned around from where she was kneeling on the floor and touched Iain’s leg. The warmth of her hand startled him, as did her position. He moved quickly out of her reach, before her touch could have any affect. ‘An hasn’t been talking too much as he finds the jaw movements painful. He probably does need his analgesics adjusted.’

      Iain nodded. ‘Let them know I’ll take care of that now.’ He lifted the chart and walked over the nurses’ station to talk to the nurse allocated to An. Lexi stayed where she was, continuing to talk to An and his mother.

      They loved her already. It was obvious. She was writing a few things on a piece of paper along with a little picture and telling them what they meant. It was obvious there had been a few key things they had wanted to communicate to the staff and hadn’t been able to. Lexi was doing her best to facilitate that. She was doing her very best for an unknown mother and child she’d just met.

      It made his stomach twist. Lexi’s nature was sweet and kind. This shouldn’t be unexpected for him. But seeing it, right before his eyes, was just a little different.

      He was used to Lexi Robbins, Head of PR. He’d also experienced Lexi Robbins, sultry, sexy woman.

      But Lexi Robbins, humanitarian, was a whole different ball game. Now he understood where the passion in her eyes came from when she spoke about the charity work. It wasn’t just all part of her PR game. It was how she really felt.

      And that made him uncomfortable.

      It made him feel too close.

      She was unsettling him, in more ways than one. She was much more than a pretty face.

      But the thing that worried him most was just how much more he wanted to know.

      The knock on the door work her up. Eek! She’d overslept.

      She dashed to the door, trying to shove her arms into her dressing-gown. She pulled the door open. ‘Iain. I’m sorry. Give me five minutes and I promise you I’ll be ready.’ She didn’t wait for an answer, just dashed to the bedroom to throw on some jeans and a jumper.

      A few minutes later she found him in her kitchen, stirring a cup of black of coffee. ‘Inside or out?’

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