Mistress to the Magnate. Jennifer Lewis

the photos her hair was always fixed in a sleek and chic style that she couldn’t help thinking must have taken ages in front of the bathroom mirror to perfect. So unlike the casual, wavy locks she was sporting now. Also, she wore a considerable amount of makeup and it was always flawlessly applied. She looked very well put together.

      Just the thought of the time it must have taken to get ready each morning left her feeling exhausted. Maybe, when she was up and around again, she would feel differently. Although she couldn’t help thinking she looked a bit … vain. But she was sure these photos represented only a small segment of her life. Who didn’t like to look good for pictures? And she couldn’t deny that she and Ash made one heck of a good-looking couple.

      How would he feel if she didn’t go back to being that perfectly put together woman? Would he be disappointed? Or did he love her for the woman inside?

      The latter, she hoped. If not, would he be here by her side while she healed?

      “Still at it?” the man in question said, and she looked up to find him standing at the foot of the bed. Ash was holding a newspaper in one hand and a brown paper sack in the other.

      “You’re back already?” she asked.

      “Already? I’ve been gone almost two hours.”

      “Has it really been that long?” She would have guessed twenty-five or thirty minutes.

      “I had to make a few calls to work, and I figured you wouldn’t mind the time alone. Which apparently you didn’t.” He nodded to her computer. “Any luck?”

      She closed the computer and shook her head, trying not to let it discourage her, or to dwell on it. “I’ve looked at pretty much all of it and I don’t recognize a thing.” She gestured to the bag he was holding. “What’s that?”

      “I stopped at the nurses’ station on my way out this morning, and they called the doctor, who said there’s no reason to have you on a restricted diet, so.” He pulled a white foam restaurant container from the bag. “Your burger and fries, madam.”

      The scent of the food wafted her way and her mouth instantly started to water. Now she knew why she was marrying Ash. He was clearly the sweetest man in the world.

      “You’re wonderful!” she said as he set it on her tray. “I can see why I fell in love with you.”

      He gave her another one of those funny looks, as though the sentiment was totally unexpected or out of character.

      “What? Don’t tell me I’ve never said I love you.”

      “It’s not that. I just.” He shook his head. “I just didn’t expect to hear anything like that so soon. I guess I figured you would have to take the time to get to know me again.”

      “Well, I sure like what I’ve seen so far.” She opened the container top, her taste buds going berserk in anticipation. Her stomach growled and, up until that instant, she didn’t even realize she was hungry. She automatically grabbed a packet of ketchup, tore it open with her teeth, and drizzled it over her fries. Ash pulled out a similar container for himself and set it beside hers on the tray, but his was a BLT with coleslaw. He sat on the edge of the mattress near her to eat.

      The fries were greasy and salty, and by far the best thing Melody had eaten in days. Or maybe ever. And when she took a bite of her burger it was pure nirvana.

      “How did your calls to work go?” she asked. “Are they upset that you’ll be gone for a while?”

      He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter how they feel. They don’t have a say in the matter.”

      She frowned. “I would feel awful if I got you in trouble, or even worse, if you got fired because of me.”

      “Don’t worry. They aren’t going to fire me. I’m the best damned CFO they’ve ever had. Besides, they know that if they did let me go, their competitor, Golden Gate Promotions, would probably snap me up. The owner, Athos Koteas, would do just about anything for an edge. And that would be very bad for Maddox.”

      “Not if your contract has a noncompete clause,” she said, stuffing a fry in her mouth. “Working for a competitor would be a direct breach. They could sue the pants off you. And I’m sure they would.”

      When she glanced up, Ash had gone still with his sandwich halfway to his mouth, and he was giving her that “look” again. Why did he keep doing that? “What? Do I have ketchup on my face or something?”

      “Mel, do you realize what you just said?”

      She hit rewind and ran it through her head again, stunned when the meaning of her words sank in. “I was talking like a lawyer.”

      Ash nodded.

      “Oh, my gosh! I didn’t even think about it. It just. popped out.” A huge smile crept across her face. “I remembered something!”

      Granted it was nothing important, or personal, but it was something. She tried to dredge up some other legal jargon, but her mind went blank. Maybe that was just the way it was going to be. Maybe it would come back in little bits and pieces. At that rate she would have her full memory back by the time she and Ash retired, she thought wryly.

      “For the record,” he said, “I did have a noncompete clause and they removed it when I refused to sign.”

      Maybe it was her imagination, but she had the feeling Ash didn’t share in her happiness. It was as if he thought her remembering something was a bad thing.

      It was just one more little thing that seemed … off.

      She shook the thought away. She was being ridiculous. Of course he wanted her to remember things. Didn’t he? What reason would he have not to?

      That, she realized, was what she needed to find out.

      That had been a close call, Ash thought as he and Mel ate lunch. In hindsight, bringing her computer might not have been the brightest idea he’d ever had, but doing it today, instead of waiting until they got back to San Francisco, had sort of been an accident. He’d grabbed it on his way out the door when he left for the hospital. He didn’t like the idea of leaving it in the room, for fear that it might be stolen. But as he climbed into his rental, the interior, at nine in the morning, was already about a million degrees. Assuming he would be in the hospital most of the day, it didn’t seem wise to leave the laptop in the car, in the blistering heat.

      What choice did he have but to bring it into the hospital with him, and as a result, give it to Melody? What if it did spark a memory? Was he willing to jeopardize his plans? He’d been up half the night removing personal information, so it seemed unlikely anything would shake loose a memory.

      To confuse her, and hopefully buy himself a little more time, he not only removed things from the computer, but added a few things, as well.

      To give her the impression they attended social functions together—when in reality they rarely went out socially—he added a few entries for fictional theater dates and parties. He also included a meeting with a wedding planner, which he thought was a nice touch. One they had regretfully missed because Mel had been missing.

      The most brilliant switch, in his opinion, was her music. He knew from experience that some songs evoked specific memories or feelings. Like the knot he got in his stomach whenever he heard “Hey Jude” by the Beatles, the song that was playing the day he drove home to break the good news about his promotion and found his ex in bed with her personal trainer.

      So, he deleted Mel’s entire music catalog and replaced it with his own music library. Mel had always preferred current pop music, while he listened to classic rock and jazz. There wasn’t much chance that would be jogging any memories.

      Now he was wondering if that hadn’t been enough. Or maybe the memories were going to come back regardless. Either way, he didn’t want to panic prematurely. Remembering something about the law was still a far cry from regaining her personal