Free Million-Dollar Amnesia Scandal by Rachel Bailey Page A

timing in that regard—you haven’t missed anything too important.”
    She sighed in relief that she at least hadn’t been remiss in her commitments before another question occurred to her. “There hasn’t been a single journalist here at the hotel. If they’re ringing and they’ve been at the hospital, why aren’t they interested in being here?”
    â€œThey are.” He glanced around through the glass as he spoke, forever keeping an eye on the operations of his business. “We have security on the private road leading up to the hotel. Only those with bookings get through. And we’ve thrown out the guests who were found to be trying for a photo or acting suspiciously.”
    Before she could process the information, the elevator doors swooshed open to the lobby.
    The tall, elegant woman from the hospital saw them, hurried over and flung her arms around her. “Darling!”
    April self-consciously raised her arms to return the embrace. “Hello…” Mother? Mom? In the hospital, she’d avoided referring to her mother by a direct name or title, and still wasn’t sure what she normally called her.
    Before she could decide, the woman took her elbow and drew her away from Seth. “I’ve come to take you home.”
    April’s jaw slackened at the bluntness of the sudden announcement. “I’m not going home yet.”
    â€œIt’s where you belong,” her mother said, not dissuaded in the least.
    April felt Seth beside her. “Hello, Mrs. Fairchild.”
    â€œGood morning, Mr. Kentrell,” she said with ice in her voice. “I’m here to collect my daughter.”
    He merely arched an eyebrow. “And if your daughter doesn’t want to be collected?”
    Her mother turned to her. “April, has your memory returned?”
    Grasping for a way to not admit the truth, she looked from one to the other, but was unable to blatantly lie. “Not beyond hazy snippets.”
    â€œThen you’re in no fit state to make decisions.” She stood closer to April and glared at Seth. “I allowed you to take her from the hospital against my better judgment, but it’s gone on long enough now. As a parent, I can’t walk away when my child is vulnerable.”
    â€œYour child, Mrs. Fairchild, is an adult.” Seth’s mouth quirked sardonically.
    She’d decided on the walk down to the lobby that it was time to step up to the plate about the life she’d been ignoring, but it was too soon to leave the Lighthouse Hotel. She’d been thinking more along the lines of having correspondence forwarded to her, schedules and the like. Familiarizing herself. Not going back. Not until her memory returned.
    â€œShe may be an adult,” her mother was saying to Seth, “but she can’t remember her childhood, her family or what she did last month.”
    He rocked back on the heels of his shiny black shoes, all calm unconcern. “And yet she does know her own mind. She’s neither confused nor foolish.”
    â€œI’m sure I could get a court to—”
    April interrupted. “I’m staying,” she said firmly.
    Seth’s face remained impassive, but she thought there was a millisecond’s flare of satisfaction in his eyes.
    Her mother noticed it, too—it was in the way her chin kicked up, the way she folded her arms. “If you’re staying, I’m staying, too.”
    â€œThere’s really no need.” Without seeming to have moved, Seth was shoulder to shoulder with her, presenting a united front. “I assure you April is safe here and the staff are treating her with every possible care.”
    â€œIt’s not the staff I’m worried about.” Her mother’s shrewd eyes narrowed at Seth. April frowned. Had her mother seen more in Seth than just the satisfaction in his eyes? Was their attraction obvious to others?
    April laid a staying