‘Why’s that?’ He looked genuinely interested, leaning forward to hear her reply.
‘Because way too many of my clients were criminals.’
He laughed, and she did, too. Her laugh was throatier than he’d expected, and it jolted him momentarily. ‘You only like being on the side of the good and the right?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I guess I should take that as a compliment.’
‘Well, from your case notes, I’d say you’re on the right side,’ she said, her tone light. ‘But I can’t comment on anything else.’
A wave crashed onto the beach behind her, the silhouetted palms swaying in the breeze. But before he could say anything else, the waiter came to take their orders, and he had to drag his gaze away from her.
Lucy slid her knife through the tender lamb cutlet on the plate in front of her, looking up through her eyelashes at Lachlan, stealing a glance as he speared a piece of his steak. From the minute he’d walked into the restaurant she’d noticed him, her heart flipping in her chest as she’d watched him talking to the maître d’. Annoyed at herself – and her reactions – she’d turned away, staring out at the ocean until her pulse had reached an equilibrium, though it had sped up again as soon as he’d said her name.
And for a moment, as they’d both stood, his hand folded around hers, she’d felt as though she was being sucked up into the ocean, pushed and pulled by the waves. But then she’d taken a deep breath and pulled herself together.
Yes, he was gorgeous, with eyes that seemed to see right through her, but he was also her client. And Lucy Shakespeare was always professional.
‘Do you spend a lot of time in Miami?’ she asked him now, determined to get herself back on track, to ignore the way he looked in his perfectly tailored jacket. That kind of cut didn’t come off-the-peg, it had been made to order. ‘From the case notes I understand you’re based in New York, is that right?’
‘Yeah.’ Lachlan nodded, placing his cutlery back on his plate. When he looked at her there was a magnetism that drew her eyes right back to his. He was intensely masculine, but not in an obvious way. It was in his confidence, the way he held himself. ‘Most of my business interests are in New York, but I have this hotel and a few other investments here in Miami. Plus my family are here, of course.’
Of course. She knew from his notes that his father had lived in Miami. That’s where his will had been signed. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your father,’ she said, her voice soft. ‘My condolences.’
He blinked a couple of times, like something had got into his eye. Then he nodded, accepting her offer. ‘Thank you. Though as you’ll find out, we didn’t always have the easiest of relationships.’
She knew something about difficult families. Who didn’t? ‘I specialise in estate law,’ she said, wanting to reassure him. ‘Believe me when I tell you that’s my bread and butter.’ She’d only managed to eat half her dinner, but her stomach already felt over-full. She put her knife and fork down on the plate, then covered it with her napkin. Once full, she hated looking at leftover food. ‘Actually, I have a few questions about your case. Is it okay if I ask them?’ Talking about the case made her feel like she was back on an even keel. The law grounded her, made her feel safe. She knew where she was when it came to being a professional.
‘Of course.’
‘Do you mind if I take notes?’ she added, looking down at her briefcase. ‘I wouldn’t usually do this over dinner, but since we have such a short time, I want to make the most of it.’
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Lachlan said, offering her an apologetic smile. ‘It’s just that my father’s death and his funeral took me away from work for too long. I’ve got a hundred people trying to get an hour of my time. Tonight was all that was left.’
‘You don’t need to apologise to me,’ Lucy reassured him. ‘You’re the client.’ Or at least her potential client. ‘You make the rules.’
His eyes flickered at her words. ‘In that case, ask away.’
‘Maybe I can start by telling you what I know.’ She always found this the best way to begin a case meeting. Restate the facts and make sure they were right. It was amazing how often they weren’t. ‘I’ve read through your father’s will, of course, and it seems pretty clear. He’s left you one bequest, a lodge in the Highlands of Scotland. Though as with so many things in Scotland, lodge is a bit of an understatement.’ She raised her perfectly groomed eyebrows. ‘It’s more of a castle than a lodge. The Glencarraig estate consists of three thousand acres of land, a loch, plus a salmon farm and a herd of deer. It also comes with ownership of a number of workers’ cottages in the nearby village, and currently employs around thirty staff, some of them seasonal.’
‘Yes, that’s right,’ Lachlan agreed, nodding. ‘A castle in the middle of nowhere, with a title that means nothing. Thanks, Dad.’
She swallowed down a laugh at his sarcasm. ‘Did your father ever use his title?’ she asked.
‘Only if he wanted to impress people. I don’t remember him going around calling himself a laird all the time.’ Lachlan shrugged. ‘Though I didn’t see him that often.’
‘How about you?’ she asked him. ‘Will you be calling yourself Laird of Glencarraig?’ It seemed an impertinent question to ask, but she was trying to work him out. To see what part of his inheritance was important to him.
Lachlan laughed, his chuckle deep and low. ‘I don’t think so, no.’
‘But you understand it comes with another role, don’t you? That by inheriting the lodge and the title you’ll also become head of the MacLeish clan?’
‘I assume that means about as much as the title does,’ Lachlan said, taking another sip of water. ‘As in not very much at all.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Lucy replied, scanning the notes she’d made during her flight. ‘Though the feudal system in Scotland ended centuries ago, the clans are still a big thing to some people. And not just to Scottish MacLeishes either. There are clan members all over the world, and they’ll look at you as their leader. Occasionally clan chiefs have been asked to intervene in disputes.’
‘You can’t be serious.’