Rachel Bailey: MILLION-DOLLAR AMNESIA SCANDAL

April’s mouth moved in synch with her thirteen-year-old self-the song still lived in her subconscious. Her eyes filled with tears as she reclaimed part of her soul.

Seth leaned over to whisper, “I checked the dates. This was only a few months before your debut concert with your father in New York. Well, what the world considers your debut. Yet there you are.”

“There I am,” she repeated, eyes still on the screen.

At the end of the song her father again grasped her hand, and without thought as she watched the tape, April lifted her hand off her lap. Strong warm fingers threaded through hers as her hand was enveloped in Seth’s. She drew her eyes from the screen to look at the man beside her, and a shiver passed along her skin that had nothing to do with the dйjа vu from the video. It was all Seth. The heat and the want he effortlessly evoked in her, the naked desire in his eyes.

Then her father spoke again, capturing her attention, and she was dimly aware of Seth removing the saucer and muffin from her hand and setting it aside.

“Thank you. As you can imagine, I’m very proud of her. And now she has one more surprise in store for you.” He gave the screen April an encouraging smile and the camera panned out as she walked to a baby grand that had been just off screen.

She sat, fingers hovering over the keyboard in the shape of a chord, as if gathering herself. Then she sounded the chord and her fingers flew confidently into a lively rhythm. The audience broke into applause, and when they quieted, she and her father sang together. George even paused at one point, ceding the limelight to his daughter, and she broke into an enthusiastic scat. The audience seemed astonished and thrilled.

Seth squeezed her hand, bringing her closer on the couch, and April was dimly aware of a tear trailing a path down her cheek. She knew the words, her fingers twitched as if they knew the notes. Then her spine straightened as a thought struck. Did they? Would her fingers remember more than her mind?

She turned in the couch, gripping Seth’s hand tight. “Is that ballroom still there?”

“It’s been refurbished, but it’s essentially the same.”

Anticipation built in her chest, pulling tight. “What about the piano?” Finding the very one she’d played as a teenager was a long shot, given there had been a refurbishment, but how wonderful would it be to see it?

“There is a piano there.” He glanced at the older ballroom on the screen, as if comparing the instruments. “I’m not sure if it’s the same one.”

She leapt from the couch, feeling more enthusiasm than she’d felt for anything since she’d woken. “Can we look? Now?”

Despite the risk that she may not remember this any better than she’d remembered the rest of her life, she wanted to try, needed to see if she could play the music she’d heard.

An indulgent grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sure.”

While he closed the door behind them, she started down the corridor at a brisk pace. He caught her within a few steps.

“Eager, I see,” he said, amusement clear in his voice.

She bit down on her lip, and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “I guess I am. This could be significant.”

As they stepped into the elevator, she mentally crossed her fingers, hoping it would be significant, and not another dead lead, like the reports Seth had commissioned for her, which had sparked no more than a memory that her father was gone. Maybe this would be the catalyst to bring her memories back.

When they reached the ballroom entrance, Seth pushed the double doors open, and even before she set foot in the room, her eyes were drawn to the piano. She stilled-limbs, heart, lungs-unable to move even if she’d wanted to.

It was the same shiny black baby grand she’d watched herself play on the tape.

Seth waited, then took her hand and led her across the room. “Do you want to play it?” he asked gently.

She moistened her lips as her eyes devoured the beautiful piano like a lover. “You don’t mind?”

He chuckled and pulled out the stool for her. “You possibly own the hotel. I think we can swing a bit of time on the piano.”

She sat down, heart in her mouth, not sure if she would be able to play something as simple as chopsticks. But as her fingers hovered over the keys, it just felt natural to form them into a chord. And then the melody of the song in the video was in her head, and her hands translated it to the baby grand. It felt liberating, as if she’d set her hands free.

When she finished the piece, more music crowded into her mind and she set that free, too. Long and smooth. Fun and energetic. Sad and haunting. Some, she simply played, for others, she sang the words-whatever felt right. And it all felt right, felt satisfying in a place deep inside that she’d forgotten existed.

As she launched into an Ella Fitzgerald number, she looked up and saw Seth watching her, a burning heat in his eyes. He leaned back against the wall, hands deep in his trouser pockets, legs crossed at the ankles. The pose of a relaxed man. Yet he was far from peaceful. He radiated tension. She’d been vaguely aware that some hotel staff members had drifted in and formed a small crowd for her performance, but she only had eyes for Seth. For all that heat. She wanted it closer. All of it.

She segued into “Fever” without thinking much about it, and his navy blue eyes burned hotter.

As her fingers touched the final notes of the song and the sound faded, she paused. She and Seth hadn’t broken eye contact for endless minutes and the air crackled with their attraction. The staff burst into claps and cheers for the impromptu concert.

Seth cleared his throat. “Okay, everyone back to work.” The command had the staff moving quickly, but Seth didn’t move a muscle.

Her heart hammered at her ribs as the staff shuffled out, some smiling their gratitude to her, one giving her a thumbs-up. It seemed to take an eternity, and all the time Seth’s gaze was locked on her.

The moment the last person left, Seth strode the distance to her, slamming the ballroom door closed on the way past. April watched his progress, hardly daring to breathe. When he reached her, without a word or any preliminaries, he drew her up from the stool and his mouth came down on hers with a fierceness she welcomed with everything inside her. She wound her arms behind his neck, securing him, demanding everything he had to give.

His lips moved with urgency, his tongue claiming her, wanting her. Had she ever been desired this much? She couldn’t imagine it was possible. The body heat emanating from him soaked through her clothes, down into her bones. Her skin tingled at every point that his hands, mouth or body touched.

All she could think about was the feel of his broad back beneath her fingers, the curves of his hard muscles, and wanting more, more. The clean forest scent of him blended with something darkly alluring and filled her head. His fingers stabbed through her hair and massaged her scalp, and in this moment she belonged to him, wholly and completely.

His hands slid down to her waist and he effortlessly lifted her high, onto the baby grand. Leaning down to preserve contact with his lips, she opened her thighs, and at the same moment he stepped forward, bunching her long, soft skirt up and pressing against the core of her. She moaned, helpless to do more than kiss and be kissed.

His mouth moved to the side of her lips, to her cheek, and she took the opportunity to gulp in the air her lungs had been screaming for; but she locked her ankles behind him to make sure the break didn’t become permanent.

“I can’t stand it,” he murmured next to her ear. “I want you so badly I can’t stand it.”

She ran her hands up over his strong shoulders, up the taut muscles of his neck, and pulled his face back to kiss her again. She needed his kiss, needed him. She wanted him more than anything. More than finding her memory. More than having this hotel.