“I don’t want anyone fucking touching her.” His voice boomed out behind her.
Horrified, her head—and body—whipped around, and Whitney gaped at him.
“She’s mine, and no one will put a finger on her, no matter what wild shit she says.”
Whitney could only shake her head at him. “Do you have some sort of…issue? Like, should I call someone for you?”
She thought his lips might have twitched. Before she could say anything else—
“Sure thing, boss,” one guy called out. “We hear you.”
Boss.
Her heart slammed into her chest.
Boss.
Another hard slam.
This couldn’t be right. No, no, no, this had better be wrong. The handsome devil with the tatted hands and taunting, sexy grin…he could not be the boss. Granted, there were surprisingly few pictures of Ramsey Hyde online. The man had no social media presence, and the mug shots she’d found had been taken when he’d been barely legal. Those old photos looked nothing like the guy in front of her. This man could not be—
“I guess this is the part where we finish the introduction bit.” His grin stretched. “I’m Ramsey Hyde, and your sweet ass does not belong in this bar.”
Chapter One
Observation notes: He let me stay. Ramsey is an arrogant, controlling—never mind. He agreed to let me stay. Reluctantly. He agreed to let me do my “research” in his bar. Except he told me eighty bucks just wasn’t going to “cut it” in his book. Instead, he offered me another deal.
Why the hell did I accept it?
***
“Uh, lady?” The bouncer eyed her warily. “Did you hear me? I said you don’t belong in this bar.” He cleared his throat and lifted his hand to point back toward the dark parking lot. “You should go back to your car and get the hell out of here.”
Whitney Augustine straightened her shoulders. “It’s a public bar. Anyone should be able to go inside.”
The man seemed to be sweating. Odd, it was a surprisingly crisp night.
“This is really, really not a good place for you.”
It didn’t seem to be a good place for anyone. The bar looked like a hole in the wall. Music screeched from inside. A moment ago, she’d seen two men get tossed out—literally, thrown into the air before they slammed onto the ground. It certainly wasn’t what she’d call a family-friendly spot. No matter. She was going inside. “Do I need to pay some sort of cover fee?”
The bouncer blanched.
“Are you all right?” Whitney asked in concern. Her hand rose and gripped the man’s shoulder. He’d nearly fallen off his wobbly stool. “Are you feeling sick?”
He jumped off the stool—and away from her. “You should not be touching me.”
She blinked. “Sorry.” Her hand fisted. “Look, I just need to go inside and see if—” But Whitney broke off. Mostly because what she had to say was too crazy to be believed.
I just need to go inside and see if anything about this bar is familiar to me. I need to see if anyone in there comes and talks to me…if anyone knows me.
“You should leave,” he urged her. “Now. Run away. Fast.”
But her shoulders just rolled back with determination. “I’m going in this bar.”
“He is not gonna like this.”
What? “Who won’t?”
A long exhale. “Come with me.”
Then she was scrambling to follow him. They pushed through the heavy crowd inside, and the too loud music had her temples aching. But there was something about the scene, about the atmosphere of the place, that nagged at Whitney. Something that felt…familiar.
And familiar wasn’t something that she was too used to experiencing, at least not lately.
But as Whitney followed the brown-haired bouncer through the crowd, she became aware of the fact that conversations were stopping. The noise level fell off, and even the screeching band…paused.
She looked around and realized that people were staring at her.
Yeah, right. Not like that was the first time she’d been gawked at by strangers. Unfortunately. Her face had been splashed all over the news in the last few weeks, and she couldn’t even go to the grocery store these days without people in the aisles whispering about her. Or snapping pics of her with their phones. Talk about something that made her stomach knot and twist.
“The boss is up here,” the bouncer told her.
The boss? Ramsey. The name slid through her mind and rattled her nerves. Ramsey was the man she was there to see. It was his bar. His place. And, according to the notes she’d found, he was the one who’d given her permission to visit the bar over and over again in the past. Before her life had become a nightmare.
When Whitney thought of her life, she divided it into two main parts.
Part one…life before she’d been left for dead in the Gulf of Mexico.
Part two…life when she’d come back…with too many holes in her memory.
Back in part one of her life, she’d visited this bar. The visits had been part of an unofficial research activity that she’d been conducting in criminal psychology. Since Ramsey had been aware of her visits during that time, Whitney hoped he might be the man who could help her fill in some of those holes in her memory.
Oh, she hoped he could help her.
The bouncer stopped near a man who sat at the bar. His broad shoulders were covered by an old, battered coat. His dark head was bent forward.
“Uh, boss.” A tap on the boss’s shoulder. “It’s her.”
The boss—Ramsey—slowly stiffened. Then he turned his head, and deep, dark eyes met hers.
She couldn’t speak. Her whole body kind of jolted as she stared at him.
“Fuck me.” Ramsey grabbed a shot glass and drained the contents. His hold on the glass was so tight that Whitney was surprised he didn’t shatter it.
“Um, okay. I’ll leave you to it.” The bouncer fled.
The bar stayed uncomfortably quiet.
“Play some damn music!” Ramsey roared. “And everyone—look the freaking other way!”
Music started playing. Whitney didn’t glance around, but she was certain everyone started looking the other way, too. She rather thought that when Ramsey gave an order, most people jumped to obey it.
“And you…” Now he swiveled his body so that he was angled completely toward her. “You need to get out of here.”
Right. As she’d thought, most people probably jumped to obey his orders. She wasn’t most people. And she was also super, super desperate. So instead of backing away, she moved closer.
His eyes widened. Whitney realized they weren’t just dark brown. They were golden brown and—
And I knew that.
“You came to see me when I was in the hospital.” The words burst from her, but they were true. When she’d been in the hospital, this man had rushed into her room. He’d seemed frantic. Desperate to talk to her. And then…
Then everything had changed. As soon as he’d become fully aware of her—ah, her condition—he’d left.
For some reason, his departure had gutted her. It shouldn’t have mattered. He was a stranger. But…