Chapter Three
The world was a jumble of light and sound when he opened his eyes.
Jackson held his breath as the world reordered itself, shapes and shadows morphing into objects he could recognize.
The main one being the man at his bedside.
The doctor glanced at the screens by his bed, jotting something down in a file, before the other man’s gaze dropped to his.
“Finally awake, I see,” Dr. Warren said, closing the file. “I was just checking your vitals. Everything looks good.”
“What happened?” he asked, his voice raspy.
“What do you remember?” The doctor moved around the bed to fill a cup of water before handing it to him.
He drained it in one gulp. “I don’t remember anything before this bed.”
“Then good news first, I think. Your concussion hasn’t gotten any worse and shows all signs of healing properly. Unfortunately, that hasn’t done anything to reverse your memory loss. Physically, your injuries are all healing properly, so we can get you home by this evening if you feel up to it.”
“Do I have one?”
“You do. And luckily, you also seem to have a guide.” Dr. Warren gestured to the chair in the corner.
Turning his head gingerly, he found the woman from yesterday curled up in an uncomfortable-looking hospital armchair.
“She refused to leave,” the doctor said, as he flipped through the chart. “Threatened to bring the power of Sinclair Enterprises down on the nurses’ heads if we tried to remove her.”
“I’d say sounds like her, but I have no idea.”
“Don’t rush yourself. You may find little things are familiar. A person, a feeling, a place. Sometimes memories come back all at once, and other times it’s a trickle. I’m afraid I can’t be more concrete than that. Amnesia still defies much of our medical knowledge despite all the research that’s been done on it.”
“Comforting.”
“I was going for honest,” Dr. Warren said with a smile. “Unless you have any other questions, I’ll go get started on your paperwork. Excuse me.”
Watching the doctor leave filled him with mixed emotions. He had a feeling he didn’t like hospitals much but even so, the man represented one of the only two people he knew in the world.
And the other was sound asleep.
Turning his attention back to the woman, he shifted so he could study her better.
At first glance, nothing about her appeared familiar. Her blonde hair was tangled around her face and she reminded him of the quintessential girl-next-door. Pretty in a natural way he found oddly appealing. Her mouth hung open as she slept with her hands propped under her chin. Her legs were tangled under her in a way that didn’t look at all comfortable. She’d no doubt have a backache when she woke.
His gaze dropped lower to take in her wrinkled white blouse. Her clothing may have been corporate, but there was no hiding the curvy body underneath.
A smile curled his lips and while he didn’t even know his last name, he knew she had to be his type.
She may not have been familiar, but something about her niggled at the back of his mind.
Damned memory.
How was he supposed to function without knowing anything? What did he do for a living? What sort of person was he? Why was this woman dedicated to staying by his side?
A quick glance at his hand showed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, so that couldn’t be it. There was no engagement sparkle on her finger, either. Not a romantic relationship, then. Or not one that he viewed as permanent. That, at least, didn’t surprise him, though for the life of him he couldn’t explain why.
She must be a friend, then. Or a relative, he supposed, but the feelings she inspired were certainly not those associated with family. Maybe she was a colleague come to check on him. But staying in his room and sleeping in an uncomfortable chair when she could have just come back at visiting hours pointed to a much closer relationship than coworkers. Didn’t it?
With a sigh, he flopped back in bed. Guessing was useless. He’d just have to wait until she woke up.
I don’t wait.
He frowned at the rogue thought. Everything inside him urged him to reach out and wake her. She’d had beautiful hazel eyes, and he wanted to see them again. Now.
Be patient.
The idea rubbed him wrong. He didn’t know why, but something inside him withered at the idea of waiting on anything.
Is this going to be my life now? Half-formed ideas and instinct tugging me in different directions. Who am I?
Maybe the woman would know.
Refusing to hold himself back this time, he rolled as close to her as possible and stretched out a hand. “Wake up,” he ordered. “Wake up and tell me who I am.”
Because I don’t have a freaking clue.
…
“Wake up.”
Lori groaned, covering her eyes with a hand. Why was it so bright? And why did her body hurt?
She tried to shift, and her foot fell hard to the ground, jerking her body.
“What?” she demanded, catching herself before she tumbled off the chair. She blinked, looking around the hospital room.
Right. The accident.
Jackson.
It all came flooding back.
“You awake?”
Her gaze zeroed in on the sound, bringing her face-to-face with Jackson.
“Jac—” she breathed, bursting from the chair. “How are you?” She flew to his bedside. “Do you need anything?” She poured his cup full of water without waiting for his response and held it out to him.
“Thanks.” With one arm, he pushed himself up enough to accept and down the water.
“How’s your head?” she asked.
“Better than yesterday,” he replied, holding out the cup for her to refill.
“Do you—”
“Remember?” He shook his head with a sigh. “It’s all gone.”
“Damn,” she said.
“My thoughts exactly.” He drained the second cup of water without breaking for a breath.
Tugging the heavy hospital chair over to his bedside, she sat. “You must have questions.”
“Hundreds.”
She nodded. “I’m here to help. Fire away.”
He opened his mouth before shutting it. He glanced at the ceiling, clearly thinking about what to ask, before looking back at her. “Who are you?”
She blinked. She’d thought his first question would be about himself, not her. “My name is Lori Carlow,” she said. “I’m your executive assistant.”
“Assistant.”
“Yes.”
“Not girlfriend.”
Her heart clenched, and she lifted her chin. “Sorry to disappoint. You don’t have a current girlfriend, but I’m sure any one of the dating apps can fix that in a heartbeat once you’re well.”
“Do assistants normally sleep in their boss’s hospital rooms?”
She turned away. “I’m not a normal assistant.”
“No,” he agreed. “You must be special.”
She glanced back at him. “Actually, I’m here because…” She stopped.
He doesn’t remember anything. He probably doesn’t remember how he got here. Why do I have to tell him?
Wouldn’t it be easier regaining his trust if he didn’t hate her for landing him in this position?
Spin this all you want. The truth is you just don’t want to tell him what happened.
Sure, but it didn’t make the logic any less valid. They’d be over the moment he remembered anyways. What did it matter if she kept one more thing from him during that time?
“I’m here because you’re my friend as well as my boss,” she amended. “What do you remember?”
He shook his head. “Not much. You, standing over me. The doctor. The rest is a blur.”
No memory of me mowing him down.
“You lost your memories and your wrist is fractured, but other than a few scrapes and bruises you’re healthy.”
“I guess it could have been worse.”
She tilted her head to the side. Normally, he would have taken issue with his health being anything less than one hundred percent and would have made her call in every senior physician attending on the floor.
“Was anyone else hurt?”
“Just you.”
He nodded. “Good.”
She reached out to take his hand. “I know this is scary, but you’ll get through it.”
He stared at their clasped hands. “Thank you, Ms. Carlow.”
“Lori,” she corrected with a tight throat. “You call me Lori.”
“Tell me more,” he ordered, closing his eyes.
“Uh.” She hesitated. Where did she start? “Your name is Jackson Sinclair. You have one brother named Marc.”
“Do I like him?”
She smiled. “Yeah. The two of you butt heads over business matters, and you don’t see each other often, but you love him.”
“I told you that?”
“No,” she replied. “Still true, though.”
Blue eyes opened to focus on her again. “More.”
“You two took over your father’s company when your parents died. A heart condition, with your mother. I’m told your father sort of faded away the first year without her. Being the oldest, you stepped up and took over his position with the company. By your mid-twenties, you were the CEO of Sinclair Enterprises, a telecom empire you’ve turned into a billion-dollar corporation.”
“So I’m in charge of a company.”
“Yes.”
“And a billionaire.”
“Yes.”
He nodded before glancing around the room. “Where’s my brother?”
Her heart clenched. He found out he had endless wealth, and that was his first question?
“Marc is in Australia working on a business deal. There’s…a lot happening that I need to fill you in on.”
“Business matters?”
She nodded.
“I think I’m taking the day off work.”
“Of course. All this can wait. We’ll get you discharged and settled back at home and maybe something will jog your memory.”
“Good plan,” he agreed. “You should find the doctor and get our timeline to get out of here.”
“Right away.” She tried to stand only to find herself jerked back when Jackson wouldn’t release her hand. “Unless there’s something else you need.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
She sat back down. “What is?”
“I should know better than this.”
She cupped her free hand over his. “What?”
His wolf-like gaze found hers. “It just hit me.”
“What did?”
“If you walk out that door and don’t come back, I’m lost.” He shook his head. “You know more about me than I do. I don’t even know where home is to recover.”
“I’m not leaving you,” she vowed.
“I know. Temporary weakness. Just go get the—”
“My first day,” she interrupted, “you told me my job would be hell. I’d be on call all hours of the night. I’d be whisked off to international locations with no more than a half-hour’s notice. I’d be given endless mountains of work no one could reasonably handle.” She smiled. “But then you said, if I managed to survive all that, I’d be right next to you when you made decisions with global impacts. I’d see the world through your eyes, and we’d make it better. You grinned and asked me if I was in or out.” She tightened her hands on his. “I’m still in. Until you get your memory back, I’m not leaving your side. Okay?”
He reached out with his free hand and brushed back a stray lock of hair hanging in her eyes.
“Okay,” he said as he tucked it behind her ear.
Don’t read anything into this. He’s sick. He’s recovering. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.
But she did. And as she walked out the room to find the doctor, she couldn’t help brushing her hair just as he had.