Rachel Bailey: MILLION-DOLLAR AMNESIA SCANDAL

Her mother patted her hand. “You were exhausted. We were worried you were burned out. Perhaps you just wanted a change and acted rashly. And,” she said with raised eyebrows, “we have no idea what that man did to convince you.”

Seth would lay serious money on it being the other way around. The Lighthouse Hotel was hundreds of times more valuable than the label and studio. On hearing of the deal, he’d assumed she’d slept with Jesse, used pillow talk to convince him. Jesse had always been a sucker for a gorgeous woman, had spent his entire adult life playing the fool for them-buying women cars or jewelry. This situation was likely no different.

But now he’d never know for sure.

April refolded the papers and pushed them to the edge of the table, then crossed her arms under her breasts. “I can’t sign these. I’m sorry, Mr. Kentrell, but I know nothing about you or your hotel. And I’m not reversing anything until I remember why I signed that contract in the first place.”

Seth clamped down on the frustration that started to creep through his blood. He needed that hotel and he didn’t have time for games. The transaction needed to be reversed before the board members found out.

Straightening, he shifted his shoulders back. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to sign, and then we play hardball.”

“Hardball?” April asked, eyes wary.

“Your mother thinks you were burned out before you went to the lawyer’s office. How many other witnesses do you think I could find to tell a judge you weren’t in the right frame of mind? Unstable-mentally unfit to sign a contract. One of my lawyers thinks Jesse didn’t have the authority to sign a contract involving that amount of money. I’m willing to bet he’s right. Either way, I’ll get the contract voided, but I’m sure you don’t want your fans to get wind of the word unstable.”

Her mother, who’d been silently complicit while he was talking, suddenly whipped around. “No.” Then back to her daughter. “Sign the papers, April. Please.”

She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, looking back and forth between them, and he thought it was over, she was about to sign. Then, as if a regal air had descended to cloak her body, her entire demeanor changed. She was trying to gain the upper hand.

Chestnut-brown eyes locked on his. “I can’t. But I promise, Mr. Kentrell, I’ll work hard on getting my memory back. I’ll do everything the doctors suggest, plus more besides. And when I do, you’ll be among the first to know.”

She thought he’d sit back and wait, what, days or weeks? Months? Either this woman really did have amnesia, or she’d never heard of him before. Sitting back and waiting was so far from his modus operandi that they weren’t even in the same universe.

His legal team would continue with their brief to get the contract voided, and in the meantime, he wasn’t letting April Fairchild out of his sight. If she really had amnesia, he’d make sure she worked persistently at recovering her memory. And if she didn’t have amnesia, then he’d be there when she tripped up.

He sank his hands into his pockets, his course chosen. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll help you get your memory back. I won’t be among the first to know you’ve remembered. I’ll be the first.”

Surprise widened her eyes, but she recovered quickly. The tip of her tongue rested on the edge of her front teeth as she nodded, considering. “If you want to help, there’s something you can do. I want to see the Lighthouse Hotel. I want to see the building that led to this whole…mess.”

Her mother started to protest that April needed to be at home, around the people who loved her, but Seth and April both ignored her. April’s request suited his plan down to the ground, having her on his territory, in a place where he’d be able to control the situation. The facilities in the presidential suite were more than sufficient to form a work base. He’d be able to keep a proper eye on her, with minimal disruption to himself.

His smile was lazy, assured. “It would be my pleasure.”

Five days later, April sat on the edge of her hospital bed, dressed in casual pants and a pale blue sweater, waiting. The doctors had said she was physically well enough to leave, as long as she took it easy. Even though she hadn’t had any more flashes of memory since the day Seth Kentrell had been in her room, they said there was no reason it wouldn’t return in time.

They’d also recommended she go to her own home, surround herself with the familiar. The idea held no appeal-she felt no link to descriptions of her house or the woman who maintained she was her mother. Yet something compelling and irresistible was drawing her to the Lighthouse Hotel. She had no idea if she’d even seen it before, but there was a magnetic pull she couldn’t deny.

Or even understand.

Perhaps because it had been a meeting about this hotel that had cost a man’s life. And her memory.

Something was also telling her she could trust Seth. He’d been open in his agenda, honest in a way that she suspected her mother hadn’t been.

As he’d promised, Seth arrived to pick her up. He strode into the room, tall and confident, as if collecting strangers from the hospital was nothing out of the ordinary in his life.

The thought made her frown. How could she possibly know what was normal in anyone’s life, let alone Seth Kentrell’s? She’d spent five days trying to remember something, anything about herself or her life. The medical staff had told her not to push; it would come when she was ready. So she’d tried to follow their instructions to be patient. And when she’d let her mind drift, instead of finding the secrets of her past, it invariably drifted to Seth Kentrell. To the way her body had almost quivered with awareness when he’d carried her in his strong arms. The way his scent had surrounded her when she’d been pressed against him. The way her skin had tingled when he’d reached over her to ring for the nurse.

She gazed at him now as he calmly took instructions from the nurse about not stressing her. Had she felt this way before about a man she’d just met? Perhaps she was the type of woman who formed impulsive attractions. Who fell in love at first sight and was regularly whisked away by sophisticated men.

But she didn’t feel like that sort of woman. She felt more…guarded than that. Perhaps it was just Seth Kentrell himself who caused the effect in women?

The nurse finished and left the room, and Seth turned. The instant his gaze met hers, she was again hit with the intensity of his navy blue eyes. He held the look, and for one magic moment she had the distinct impression he felt the same tug. But there was a challenge in his eyes, too. He still didn’t believe her-that she’d lost her memory, that she couldn’t remember signing the contract for his hotel. But at least he was honest about it-and again, paradoxically, his lack of trust made her feel safe with him.

She broke away and looked down. “This is all I have,” she said, indicating the small, brand-name suitcase filled with the things she’d had in her drawers.

He rocked back on his heels, his eyes watchful, still assessing. “Despite your mother’s pleas that I renege and not take you to Queensport, she’s packed a bag for you. It’s already been sent ahead.”

Her skin pricked. Would he gauge everything she said and did to see if she was faking? But worse was that his words highlighted her feeling of dependence. Needing him to take her to the hotel she wanted to see, needing her mother to pack some clothes. The sooner her memory returned and she took charge of her own life, the better.

She picked up her small suitcase. “I’m ready to go.”