He was a tough man, the kind who played to win and never backed down on a principle. Richard had modeled himself after his older brother; knowing that had intimidated Lorna when she first met Matthew. But until the end of the marriage, Matthew had always-oddly enough-had a soft spot for her… She had to hold that thought.

With a determined step, she opened the door to the bathroom and quietly walked into the lobby, not glancing at the receptionist. She sat down in one of the leather chairs, crossed her legs, stared out the window and ordered herself to relax.

“Mrs. Whitaker?”

The redhead was suddenly standing in front of her.

“I think you’d be more comfortable in Mr. Whitaker’s office,” she said firmly. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

“Really, I’m fine,” Lorna told her, but the redhead appeared to be accustomed to herding people. She’d evidently decided that a relative of the boss should be treated as such, even if she had never heard of the existence of a female Whitaker. Lorna found it impossible to explain that she wasn’t positive Matthew would even talk to her, much less allow her near his inner sanctum.

Which was where she found herself standing, playing with the handle of her purse, several seconds later. Matthew’s desk was a smooth slab of teak, spotless and gleaming. Lawyerly tomes filled the floor-to-ceiling shelves behind it, thick leather volumes that added to the elegance of the silent office. She took in the dark blue carpeting and teak paneling-very plush, very expensive. A pair of cream-colored leather chairs faced the desk; a long antique credenza stood behind them. The room was tasteful and quiet, but just being there increased the almost desperate feeling of dread in Lorna’s heart.