He remembered. She could see it in his eyes. “I hope,” he said in a low, harsh voice, “you’ve got a damned good reason for bringing it up again. I know at the time you didn’t have the sense to cash the check.”
“No.” She met his eyes squarely. “But I need the money now, Matthew.”
He just stared at her, his whole body taut and tense. “Misha, Richard’s been dead for more than eight years. Forget the past for a moment and just tell me what kind of trouble you’re in.” He gave the order quietly, even gently, but it was clearly an order nonetheless.
Lorna shook her head, her hands feeling suddenly shaky. “Matthew, I don’t want anything from you,” she said in a low voice. “But Richard felt he owed me that money. I could have had it then-it was mine.” She swallowed. Her eyes, grave and anxious, never left his. “Demanding something for nothing isn’t my style, Matthew. The thought makes my stomach turn over. But I felt…that was a debt. Your brother-”
“What was between you and Richard had nothing to do with me. I don’t want to hear about it, Misha.”
She’d been expecting just that glacial tone when he first walked in. Not now, after he’d seemed so open…Matthew at his most impenetrable was all ice. She knew he was like this in court, even with his family sometimes, but never before had he been so cold toward her.
His brows were knitted together as he studied her. Then gradually his forehead smoothed out as he watched her eyes cloud with distress. “Misha,” he said gently, “I told you a long time ago that you could always come to me if you were in trouble. There’s no reason to bring the past into it. Just tell me…”