Read Online Million-Dollar Amnesia Scandal by Rachel Bailey - Free Book Online Page B

They’re the only times I’ve felt right, that I’ve felt me. When you put me up on that piano and filled me with your heat and passion—”
    Seth clenched his fists beside him, physically restraining himself from reaching for her again. “Enough,” he said, voice ragged.
    â€œYou’re right.” She stood taller, seemed more sure of herself than ever before. “I won’t let it happen again, but I can’t bring myself to regret it—those few moments of feeling alive, of knowing who I am.” Inclining her head, she was dignity and poise personified. “Thank you.” She was thanking him? For almost taking her on a piano in a room anyone could have walked into? Not trustinghimself to reply, he turned sharply and stalked out of the room. He needed a cold shower, or perhaps to dive into the ocean and purge his body of this unreasonable need.
    He’d bring his body back under control if it killed him.

Five
    T hree days later, April was eating breakfast on her balcony, taking in the sublime views of the blue-gray water stretching to the horizon, when a curt knock came from the internal door that connected her suite to Seth’s. Since their explosive kiss in the ballroom, she hadn’t seen him once. She’d kept a low profile, spending most of her time on this balcony or wandering the wilderness tracks at the edges of the grounds.
    His only contact had been a brief note under her door, informing her that he’d contacted reception and extended their stay from the original three days to an indefinite time frame. When she read the note, part of her had been relieved she’d have more time to remember, but that didn’t explain the way her pulse had picked up. That had been about knowing she wouldn’t be leaving Seth just yet….
    Knowing he was on the other side of a mere wood-and-plaster wall had become like water torture—a slow,constant drip, drip at her sanity. She’d lain in bed at night, tossing, turning, tangled in her sheets, thinking of him only a few feet away in his bed. Wondering if his need was as unquenchable as hers. If he’d locked the door from his side.
    If he’d turn her away if she crept through.
    She groaned and rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Was she ready to see him now? Could she trust herself to behave like a business acquaintance, when their kiss had taken her yearning for his touch to new heights?
    The knock came again, more insistent, and she took a last fortifying sip of her mango juice before padding in her slippers to the interconnecting door. When she swung it open, she didn’t look at him, couldn’t afford to just yet. So, insides squirming, she turned and retraced her steps back to the balcony.
    â€œDo you mind if I finish my breakfast while you talk?” she asked over her shoulder.
    â€œOf course not.” His voice flowed over her, seeping in to fill those parts of her greedy for him, luring her back to her nighttime thoughts. She sat, flicking her sunglasses down to shade her eyes, and picked up her bowl of yogurt with a hand that only trembled a little.
    â€œI see your appetite returned,” he said with a trace of a smile in his voice. “Or were you expecting company?”
    She surveyed the glass table before her, littered with an empty cereal bowl, the remnants of a fruit platter, her juice glass, buttered toast and two boiled eggs still in their cups. She set the yogurt back down and acknowledged his point. “I’m ravenous. It must be the healing my body is doing.” Though she was sure an argument could be made that she was satisfying a hunger that was safe.
    A hunger that wouldn’t cause her heartache.
    She risked looking up at him, her own private forbiddenfruit. If she hadn’t been sitting already, she might have lost her balance. The light breeze from the ocean danced in his hair and molded his crisp, white shirt to his torso. Their