Page 26 of Lela's Choice

“Soccer. I wanted to keep up with my brothers.”

“Lots of grace in soccer. Look at Hayley Raso or Sam Kerr.”

Talking to him about neutral topics in a neutral location was a moment in time, a simple pleasure. Now, finishing the last of their wine and with a coffee coming, Lela studied him across the table.

“I bet you checked on me,” he teased. “But were your searches driven by necessity or interest?”

Interest was a very tame word for Lela’s reaction to him, but she wasn’t bold enough to tell any man he fascinated her. Beyond the stimulation to her mind, being the focus of his attention made her pulse race and her nerves skitter with anticipation.

“I did some checking,” she hesitated.

The waitress returned with their desserts and coffees.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What did you find?”

The subtle scent of him had teased her senses during the meal, a spicy undertone to the aromas of the sumptuous feast. His deep drawl had rolled over her in a drugging wave, by turns raunchy then liquid honey. The warmth of his smile embraced her, the fine lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes hypnotising her with the life and laughter they represented.

“I recognised your name.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You’re a complex character.” Lela’s professional curiosity was natural and expected. Admitting to it wouldn’t tell him more about her than he already knew. Given how they’d been thrust together anyone would do some google snooping.

“So are you.” He smiled over his glass.

Complex was better than tough, which had been thrown at her more than once. Complex suggested an interest in understanding her, and his interest caused her to stumble emotionally. “You have a flourishing legal practice, plus you do pro bono work.”

“A lot of legal practices operate like that.”

“But a lot of them don’t also have foundation partners who devote a lot of their own time to comparative law, to the intricacies of international agreements on the rights of the child. Where does that come from?”

“My dad was your standard GP. A doctor in a suburban general practice. Mum worked in family services. Pro bono work was something he did—they both did. No big deal. You can give, so you do. And truth be told, there’s no major inconvenience to me.”

“You’re making it sound like it’s nothing.”

“It’s about being a member of society, being able to give something back.” Easy to see why people trusted Hamish MacGregor.

“That’s not the bit that’s complicated.” Her senses of smell, sound and sight were sharper and more attuned to Hamish than to any man she’d known.

“Mum became involved in a few cases where there’d been inter-country marriages. In one case, about twenty years ago, the marriage went wrong, and one partner decided to take the children back to their country and disappear.”

“I’ve seen stories of cases that made the press.” She paused. “I read one a few months ago. And yes, it was one of yours,” Lela added in response to his raised eyebrow.

“The devastation and loss for the parent left behind is crippling, whether or not they ever get to see their children again.”

“You’re working on stopping it.”

* * *

HAMISH SURE AS HELLwelcomed her interest. “Mum sent me off to university, saying that if I could improve those laws, I’d be doing something useful.”

“Is your mum your biggest fan?” she teased.

“Parents tend to think their kids are brilliant.” He could have kicked himself when the light died out of her eyes. From what Hamish was learning, Giovanni Vella had been at odds with his daughter since she was a child. The old man clearly respected Lela’s tenacity, intelligence and resourcefulness, otherwise he wouldn’t have tried to link Hamish up with her. But there was a strong chance Vella had never told Lela she was loved. Unforgivable in Hamish’s book.

“Did you call in to Marty’s charity this morning before I met you?” he asked. She ignored him, concentrating on her glass, tipping it to watch the wine swirl gently in the bottom of the crystal, so Hamish pushed harder. “Someone there told you about Marty. You’d lined them up to help you before I met you at the airport.”

“How’d you work that out?” She placed her glass on the table and leaned on her elbows.

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