MILLION-DOLLAR AMNESIA SCANDAL Read online

  She held the seat belt in one hand and twisted to face him. “People have judged you in the past by something false?”

  “You could say that.” Again, the tension in his body belied his offhanded tone.

  “If I were to get my staff to make a dossier like this-” she lifted the report he’d given her “-on you, what would I find?”

  “The usual mix of media lies and half stories,” he said, seemingly unconcerned by the prospect.

  “But if they dug?”

  His mouth curved into a sardonic half smile. “I’m sure they’ll find the story of my parents. It’s something of an open secret.”

  Despite the heavy subject matter, a sliver of something close to contentment stole through her body. This was the first real conversation she’d had since waking. Besides Seth’s first visit to the hospital, each time she’d spoken to someone, it’d been about her physical condition. A discussion felt surprisingly good.

  She settled back into her seat and watched him drive. “Since my history is already on the table, why don’t you save me the effort of having a dossier made and tell me?”

  “With or without the lies and half stories?” he asked with one eyebrow raised.

  She bit down on her lip. There was an old, harsh pain he was masking, and it called to a place deep inside her. “Whichever you prefer,” she said softly.

  A long minute of silence sat between them and she thought he wouldn’t answer. But she waited anyway. Then he spoke.

  “My brother, Jesse-” he paused and swallowed “-and I are the sons of Warner Bramson. Assuming you don’t know who he was, Warner Bramson was a billionaire and a business genius.”

  She cocked her head to the side. It was a strange way to refer to his father, saying they were the “sons of Warner Bramson.”

  “Didn’t you know him?”

  “I knew him very well,” he said, voice even. “He spent a lot of time with us.”

  April tapped a finger against the seat belt she held as she watched him. Perhaps she’d be this interested in anyone’s past, now that she’d forgotten her own, but she suspected it was some indefinable quality about Seth Kentrell that was drawing her in.

  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.

  Oscar showed them to high-backed seats before taking his place behind a massive oak desk.

  Seth held her elbow as she sat down then took his own seat and faced his employee. “We’ll be here three nights.”

  Oscar nodded. “I’ve had the two connecting presidential suites prepared.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. He’d booked connecting suites? Had she misread the situation and his intentions, his meaning during the conversation in the car about attraction? His words from the hospital replayed-I won’t be among the first to know you’ve remembered. I’ll be the first.” She relaxed a fraction. He wanted his hotel back, and for that he needed her memory so he could negotiate with her. Of course he’d want to be nearby during their stay. It was reasonable.

  “Given the media coverage,” Seth said, “you would have heard about Ms. Fairchild’s recent accident.”

  Oscar looked at April with somber features. “My wife and I were very sorry to see the news reports. She’s a huge fan of your work, as am I.”

  “Thank you,” April said.

  Oscar turned back to Seth, genuine sympathy creating creases around his eyes. “And I was devastated to hear of your brother’s passing. He may not have been a regular here, but he was held in high esteem.”

  “I appreciate that.” Seth gave a quick, tense smile then cleared his throat. “The first matter is that Ms. Fairchild’s memory was affected by the accident.”

  “Affected?” Oscar asked.

  April nodded. “I’m afraid I can’t remember anything much.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Seth crossed one ankle to rest on the opposite knee, bringing the focus back to him. “We’d rather it didn’t become public knowledge at this stage, so I’d appreciate it if you put some special rules in place with your staff.”

  “Certainly.” He pulled a yellow legal pad to the center of his desk and picked up a pen.

  “Tell them Ms. Fairchild is having some recuperation time after her accident and needs to be left alone. No polite questions, no conversations, no autographs. They speak only when spoken to, and only on matters regarding her stay.”

  A warm glow filled her chest. She knew she should feel piqued that Seth was arranging things for her, but she couldn’t. Instead, she was relieved he’d protected her from polite inquiries that she wouldn’t necessarily be able to field. And grateful he’d thought to do it for her.

  The manager made a note on the legal pad. “I’ll do so immediately.”

  “Second, it seems that Jesse and Ms. Fairchild signed a contract on the day of their accident regarding the Lighthouse Hotel. The validity of the contract is still in question, but in the meantime, Ms. Fairchild is to be treated with the respect she’d be given if she owned the property and any requests-such as to see behind-the-scenes operations-are to be granted. All decisions will still go through your line manager at Bramson Holdings until this matter is resolved, but technically, she’s the owner-in-waiting. And I don’t have to tell you that discretion is of the utmost importance, even from your line manager.”

  “Of course, Mr. Kentrell.” Oscar didn’t make a note of this one.

  “Thank you, Oscar. I apologize for the brevity of this meeting, but I need to take Ms. Fairchild to her suite. We’ve come straight from her hospital room.”

  “Ms. Fairchild’s health is our main concern,” the manager said, offering her a concerned smile. “I’ll call a concierge.”

  Oscar left the room and April turned to Seth. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “You didn’t need to tell him about the contract. I thought you’d keep that under wraps until a final decision was made. If you get the hotel back, no one ever need know.”

  He frowned. “Even though the contract doesn’t take effect until the end of the month, and it may not stand up, you’re possibly the current legal owner. It was the right thing to do to inform the manager. You deserve to be treated as such.”

  “I appreciate it,” she said, eyeing him curiously. She was getting the feeling Seth Kentrell always did the right thing. A couple of times since she’d met him there had been deeper, darker emotions flaring in his navy blue eyes, but he’d quickly leashed them before they had time to manifest. He held himself in such control.

  A concierge in a dark green uniform arrived to show them to their suites, and once again Seth followed her closely, there if he was needed. Regardless of what else was between them with the hotel issue, one thing she knew for sure, physically she was in safe hands. He wouldn’t let her fall.

  Warmed by the idea, she walked through the lobby to a pretty glass elevator, but then, as they continued along the hall three floors up, an amorphous thought intruded. There was a definite feeling of…something. Like dйjа vu, it was on the edges of her consciousness, just out of grasp. She looked at the walls, the doors they passed, taking in every detail, every potential clue. But the feeling faded and she was left with nothing more than misty remnants of a half-formed idea. And disappointment that a memory had again slipped beyond her reach just as she’d begun to touch it.

  Seth tipped the concierge and stood at April’s door, hands deep in his pockets. “Have a rest. Your legs must be tired. They’re unused to this much movement.”

  As he said the words, fatigue suffused her limbs. She’d spent most of the morning sitting in a car and in Oscar’s office, but she wasn’t yet back to full strength. “Perhaps a nap would be good,” she conceded.

  “When you’re ready, knock on my door.” He pointed to a door on the inside west wall. “I’ll be working in my suite through there. Or ring the operator and ask to be put through to me.” His gaze dropped from her eyes to her lips. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter Three

  April slept soundly through the afternoon and night and woke early, feeling refreshed and eager to explore her new surroundings. After a quick shower, she found a note slipped under the door connecting her suite to Seth’s.

  Let me know when you’re ready for breakfast. S

  She gripped the note, undecided. This hotel had pulled at her, had been inextricably linked to losing her memory, and she’d needed Seth to bring her here. She knew he wanted to keep her close-mainly to ensure she wasn’t trying to hoodwink him-but did that mean he intended them to spend all their time together?

  Part of her wanted the freedom to explore at her own pace, to investigate the crumbs of memories she knew were here. Besides one visit to her hospital bed, and the drive out, he was a stranger-albeit a stranger with whom she shared an inconvenient attraction. Perhaps it’d be best if she took it from here, not rely on him.

  Then again, at the moment, even her own mother felt like a stranger. And despite knowing it was unwise, she trusted Seth Kentrell. A vision of his dark beauty rose in her mind. The lure of him, of being near the electric field that seemed to surround him, was just as strong as the lure of exploring on her own. Perhaps stronger.

  That banked fire in his eyes both made her wary and called to her on a primal level. If he ever tried to kiss her, would she have it within her to resist? Her skin quivered. Would she want to?

  She lifted her hand and hesitated only a second before knocking on his door.

  Confident footsteps sounded on the other side before it swung open. Seth stood there, radiating heat and masculinity, and she forgot to breathe. She’d been right to be wary of him. This was not a man to play with, or to underestimate.

  “Good morning, April,” he said, voice as smooth as matured whiskey. “Did you sleep well?”

  She took a deep breath, drinking in his forest-fresh scent, glad she’d decided to see him despite the danger. “I slept right through. My body is obviously still healing.”

  “We’ll take it easy.” He ushered her through to his room’s dining suite. “I thought you might prefer breakfast here, instead of under the prying eyes in the restaurant.”

  There was that pattern of doing the right thing by her again. “That was considerate.”

  “I’ve been known to be considerate before. On occasion.” One end of his mouth hitched, almost a grin, but not quite.