Rachel Bailey: MILLION-DOLLAR AMNESIA SCANDAL

She pieced together the information he’d given her so far-and came up with a picture that didn’t gel. “What am I missing?”

Seth spared her a quick glance, but his expression gave nothing away. “He spent more time with us than he did with his wife and legitimate son.”

“Oh,” she said on a long breath, as it all made sense.

He nodded once.

“Did you know your half brother well?”

“I met him properly for the first time while you were in the hospital. There was a story on it in the papers. Make sure you get your assistant to dig it out for the dossier she’ll make about me.” His tone was an attempt at wry humor, but she wasn’t buying into it. Despite his efforts to play it down, she knew this was important. Her accident had been almost two weeks ago. The accident that had killed Seth’s brother.

She wet her dry lips. “You met at Jesse’s funeral.”

“Yes,” he said as he smoothly took a corner. “And we talked afterward. Have you been to New England before?”

She tried to remember, but nothing came to mind, and the scenery out the window didn’t look familiar. “I don’t know,” she said, glancing across at Seth. He was eyeing her sharply.

The question had been a test.

Her chest deflated. But he had a right to be checking-he had a hotel at stake and absolutely no reason to trust her. She was as much a stranger to him as he was to her, and she’d been involved in his brother’s death. She looked back at the green scenery flashing past the window, but then a thought struck.

Was she a stranger to him?

She dragged in a breath. What if the strength of her physical reaction was because she had known him? Her body could have been in his arms before and he wasn’t telling her. Perhaps they’d been involved and he no longer wanted her, so was keeping his distance now. Or their discussions about her ownership of the hotel would be complicated by her knowing they’d been lovers. They could have been lovers.

She had to ask, had to know. There was no point trying to trick or test him-he wasn’t a man to let go of control enough to be caught napping.

She ironed down the fabric of the trousers covering her thighs. “You said we’d never met before the day you came to my bedside.”

“That’s right,” he said, nodding once.

She watched him for a long moment as he skillfully guided the car around a corner. Then she drew a deep breath and plunged in. “It doesn’t feel like we’ve just met.”

For a split second his eyes widened, but he covered it so quickly she would have missed it, had she not been watching for a reaction.

When he replied, his voice was smooth and calm as always. “How does it feel?”

“I don’t know.” She nibbled on her lip. “Like something already exists between us.”

He slid her a heavy-lidded look before returning his eyes to the road. “Define ‘something.’”

“When you look at me, I…” She trailed off, not really sure how to explain, wishing he’d help instead of grilling her. She moved in her seat, as if that could alleviate the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach. There was something between them, new or existing. He must know it.

“You what?” Seth asked, voice huskier than it had been minutes before.

Her throat felt suddenly dry, but she forced it to work. “It’s like we have a…a connection. Already.”

Seth’s chest expanded rapidly with a breath, but his voice had returned to normal. “As much as I’d like to have had a ‘connection’ with you, I’m afraid this is just garden variety attraction.”

This was a mere attraction? “Do you often have attractions like this?”

He hesitated then cleared his throat before replying. “No.”

“And yet,” she said, collecting her jumbled thoughts, settling her racing pulse, “you called this a garden variety one.”

His hands on the wheel clenched and released before he nodded curtly. “I stand corrected. We seem to have quite a strong attraction.” He signaled before overtaking an RV. “But that’s all it is. I give you my word we never met before that day in the hospital.”

“I believe you,” she said, barely above a whisper. And she did. She may not know much about him, but he had a core of honor. If he said they hadn’t met, they hadn’t.

But she couldn’t become involved with someone when her mind was such a scramble. She clasped her hands on her lap. “Since we’re talking about this, I have to tell you that it’s…problematic for me.”

“You find your attraction to me problematic?” His lips quirked up at their ends.

She opened her mouth to reply when she realized he was teasing her. She blinked. Seth Kentrell was capable of teasing? Based on their earlier interactions, she wouldn’t have guessed it possible. For some reason, it made a bubble of joy form in her chest.

“I’m sorry, did you have plans for us to form a relationship?” she asked, deadpan, teasing him back.

His smile was brief before he frowned. “The idea of a relationship between us would be as problematic for me as for you. More so. I just need my hotel back, April.”

She flinched inwardly. It was what she wanted to hear; but still, the brush-off hurt a little. She should be grateful they were on the same page. Should be. And she would be.

She straightened her spine as much as she could in the car seat. “So, no acting on this. Agreed?”

He met her eyes for the briefest of moments before returning them to the road ahead. “Agreed.”

But as she sneaked a look at him, she wondered if he was able to shut off a response as easily as he implied. She wasn’t so sure she had that level of self-discipline-to repress an attraction she felt so keenly. But she would. From this moment.

They talked for the rest of the trip to Queensport about less loaded topics than Seth’s family, her lack of memory or their attraction.

When Seth pulled up in the paved area at the front of the Lighthouse Hotel’s entrance, April looked around in wonder. It was beautiful-historic and grand. Three stories high in most places, with large windows and gables adorning the front. At one end was the tall lighthouse, built of the same large pieces of roughly hewn stone as the main building. It looked over the paved area where they stood, across a grassy, ten-foot-high cliff out to the sea.

A porter came to take their bags, then a valet took Seth’s car. April gazed out at the water’s wind-whipped surface and breathed in the salty air. A small part of the tension in her shoulders lifted-tension she’d been carrying since she’d woken to see Seth and her mother in her hospital room. And she started to believe there really might be answers here for her.

She turned back at the sound of voices and saw Seth holding his hand out to a tall, lean man with closely cropped silver hair and intelligent eyes. “April, this is Oscar Wainwright, the manager of the Lighthouse Hotel. Oscar, I’m sure someone as famous as April Fairchild needs no introduction.”

Oscar beamed. “Certainly not. We’re honored to have you, Ms. Fairchild.”

“Oscar…” Seth’s voice dropped, became more serious. “I need to apprise you of two sensitive issues. Perhaps we could go into your office.”

Keen to accommodate, Oscar led the way. Seth again offered her his arm but she was feeling fine so she shook her head. Besides, since the day he’d carried her in his arms, she’d played over the feeling of being close to him, touching him, in her mind too many times. She didn’t want to create more memories to infiltrate her subconscious.

Seth followed her-a pace behind, again as if prepared to be there if she needed him-as they walked to an office not far from the entrance. Although his shadowing of her jutted up against her desire for independence, there was something…nice about having Seth walking close. She was too aware of him for it to be comfortable, but she liked the feel of him beside her.