‘Sebastian, please,’ he offered.
She gave him a slight nod, though did not return the offer to use her own first name.
Her face was a mask of disinterested civility, but he didn’t buy it for a second. Though she was trying so hard to appear serene and in control she was bristling with kinetic energy. Most lawyers he had come across were stale and tired to say the least but she was so dynamic it was infectious. He could barely stand still himself. And compared with the lassitude that had threatened to overwhelm him only moments before, it was a blessing.
‘Romy, was it?’ he said, not giving up. ‘Interesting name. I bet there is a great story behind that one.’
She bit into a biscuit rather than on to his line and he caught sight of a row of very short and faintly ragged fingernails. Hmm. So she was a nail-biter and not so much the tough cookie as she behaved.
‘There are more important things to discuss today than my name, Mr Fox,’ Romy said. ‘Go ahead, take a seat so we can focus our energies where they belong.’
Fair enough. He did as he was told and slumped back into his seat, his expression all seriousness to show her he was ready to deal with the task at hand. But she had also taken a seat and her attention had left him without a second thought. She was running a hand through her hair until it settled in a lustrous ripple down her back, and, casually crossing one long leg over the other, she showcased an expanse of one lovely, creamy thigh.
Whoa.
Romy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She was surprised to find that her opposition seemed to be almost enjoying himself! And Romy hated surprises. They were never positive. Ever. If you knew what was coming you could cope, no matter how big a deal. But the not knowing was a killer.
No, she determined. There would be no surprises. It would all be fine. She was ready. She’d spent every minute of her adult life making sure she would be ready for any situation, so she was not in the least bit nervous. Well, not much anyway.
‘Mr Campbell, Mr Fox, let’s get this over and done with, shall we? Then we can all get on with more pleasant pursuits.’
Sebastian turned a leisurely glance her way and the pleasant pursuits that filled her head sent her heart thumping against her ribs as her adrenalin kicked in full force.
Bad. Bad Romy!
She grabbed her calming stone and put it to better use as a paperweight. Energy flow and inner beauty could wait. By cornering her, the tomcat had released a hellcat who would very soon be wiping that all too free and easy smile from his face.
‘Mr Fox,’ she began, ‘I think my client has the right to a great deal larger settlement than you have suggested and here is a small selection of the innumerable irrefutable reasons why…’
In an hour it was all over.
Before Romy had even hit her stride in her savage roast, Sebastian capitulated.
He glanced at his watch, said, ‘Sorry to cut the game short, guys. It’s been a blast but I have a date. Give Janet whatever she wants.’
Now, that was one heck of a surprise! As, although the guy was a renowned playboy who had left behind a daisy chain of well-kept women who had kindly kept him company on those long, cold Melbourne nights, he had never even suggested a pre-nuptial agreement before marrying. So Janet getting what she wanted was a fair whack.
Sebastian grabbed a pen from the table, signed Romy’s contracts with a flourish, patted his lawyer on the back and left without a backward glance.
He had given up an exorbitant amount of money so as not to break a date. For a guy who seemed to go through women as if they were going out of fashion, Romy couldn’t help but wonder who could be that important to him.
And in some small, ridiculous part of Romy’s anatomy, she felt a pang of something akin to envy towards someone who could mean that much in Sebastian Fox’s life.
CHAPTER TWO
AN HOUR later Sebastian was still trying to push the thought of the lawyer and her stinging criticism from his mind.
A thin, high voice called out from across the oval. ‘Hey, Seb. Heads up!’
Sebastian scooped the ball up and weaved in and out of the group of youngsters running at his side, relishing the heat and sweat and opportunity to exercise away the niggling frustration that had tagged him all day. He eventually slowed enough for his elder nephew to tag him but not enough to make it look as if he wasn’t trying.
‘Tagged!’ Chris called out in glee.
‘Aah, you got me there, Chris.’ Sebastian shook his head in disbelief as he handed over the football to his opposition. ‘You’re just too quick for an old man like me.’
Chris grinned proudly and yanked the ball from Sebastian’s hands.
‘Everybody ready?’ Chris called out to the group straggling across the football field before taking off towards the goals.
A madly waving hand on the end of an adult arm on the sideline caught Sebastian’s attention. He looked up-field and made sure another couple of adults were keeping control of the game before he jogged off the oval.
‘Good to see you, Tom.’ He gave his brother-in-law a bear hug.
‘Hey, watch the threads. You’re sweating all over me.’
Sebastian made sure to wipe his hands vigorously on the back of Tom’s clean shirt before pulling away.
‘You’re getting thrashed out there, mate.’
Sebastian grinned. ‘You think you can do better? You join us.’
Tom held up his palms in defeat. ‘No, thanks. I’ve got this bad knee, remember.’
Sebastian raised his eyebrows in disbelief. ‘Melinda told me all about that. Didn’t you walk into the coffee-table? Three weeks ago?’
‘That table has a really sharp corner.’
‘Fine.’ Sebastian turned and watched Chris weaving across the field, the ball in his possession again. ‘You’re just lucky you’ve got me around to make sure your kids get the exercise they need.’
‘Sure, mate. Sure. Hey, Melinda told me today was D-day. Divorce day, right?’
‘Yep.’ The easy smile swiftly melted from Sebastian’s face. He kicked at a tuft of grass on the edge of the field.
‘So what did she get?’ Tom grabbed Sebastian by the arm, the slick sweat coating him suddenly of no importance. ‘You’d better not have given her the beach house. Melinda and I promised the kids a week there this summer.’
‘She would never have even asked for the beach house.’
Tom’s raised eyebrows showed he disagreed. ‘I think you proved you were the last one to know what Janet might or might not do to get what she wants.’
Sebastian shrugged. ‘Anyway, she got plenty.’ Tom let loose with a great laugh. ‘For a girl who seemed easy come, easy go, she sure turned out to have a killer streak.’
‘So we now know. But this wasn’t Janet. This was the lawyer.’
The lawyer. So much for pushing her to the back of his mind. The instant action replay running constantly through his mind all afternoon, and frustrating him to distraction, had been all about the lawyer. Long legs, startling eyes, and that hair. And most of all the cutting accusations about his lifestyle she had flung at him with such vigour. He’d been brandished a playboy before. And even a cad. And maybe with good reason. But the lawyer had labelled him ‘a neurotic caveman for whom women were merely bandages for his over-inflated ego’. And that had been rough.
‘Must