His jaw tightened at the mention of Johnny’s name. All the more reason why his request startled her. “So? You were going home to eat anyway, and I haven’t eaten either. If you don’t have enough food, I could stop and pick up something…”

He waited. She hadn’t the slightest idea what to say. In the deepest part of her soul, she knew that was exactly why she’d come, not so much for the money as to talk about Johnny with Matthew. Because he was a Whitaker, because he was…Matthew. Yet she’d never really expected him to give her that option, feeling as he did about her, about his brother. And Johnny was a reminder of that awful time…

“You’re right, Misha,” he said suddenly, as if he could read her mind. He sighed, standing up and looking at her with weary, brooding eyes. “I have no desire to see the boy,” he admitted bluntly. “I don’t even know what prompted me to ask you to dinner, but seeing you again and…” He hesitated, and his voice suddenly went low and gentle. “I haven’t forgotten my brother. But that’s not to say I ever thought he was blameless. I can imagine what the past nine years must have been like for you, raising a child alone, losing your father. I read about his death in the paper, Misha, and I’m sorry. More than once I worried about what had happened to you.”

“I’ve wondered about you, too,” she said quietly. She hesitated, slinging the purse over her shoulder again. “But I never really expected you to forget what happened between Richard and me.” Her voice was careful, the question in it almost unconscious.

“No.”

“Of course not,” she said swiftly, and stared at the door. “Well…”

“To forget something of that magnitude isn’t possible, but then, to say I haven’t changed in nine years would be just as foolish.” He shrugged, just a little, a boyish gesture that made Lorna want to smile. “We used to enjoy quite a few dinners together, Misha. To make peace in the Middle East, reorganize the banking system and straighten out your misguided politics.”