Who’s that girl?
Greg Chalmers knows when someone is lying. That’s how he ends up helping the police with an unusual case. A woman is found covered in blood, claiming she has no memory. Is she lying? He doesn’t think so. But for the first time, his attraction to her could be clouding his judgment!
Despite his intentions to stay aloof, he can’t resist helping Eliza Dunning…especially when she becomes the prime suspect in a murder investigation. As they work together to uncover the details of her life, Greg finds himself in deep. And it’s even more important to prove her innocence….
“I’m not a liar!”
At her words, Greg was off the couch and walking toward her as if to settle her again. But Eliza didn’t want to be settled.
“I’m sick of this, Greg. I’m sick of being mistaken for some victim. I want this to end. I want all of it to end.”
“And it will. Once we find out who was in your house today. Once you get your memory back.”
His tone was gentle and reassuring. She didn’t want gentle and reassuring. She didn’t want a lecture by Dr. Chalmers on how everything was going to be okay when clearly it wasn’t.
She wanted to feel something different. She wanted to be the person controlling her fate. She wanted…
Taking two determined strides toward him she lifted her arms around his neck. “This,” she whispered against his lips. “This is what I want.”
Dear Reader,
I’ve had the idea of a human lie detector as a character for some time. Guys like the one in The Mentalist whose powers of observation—because, really, that’s all that skill is—are just better than anyone else’s. Almost like a modern-day Sherlock Holmes. I knew Greg was that character. I mean, what better skill to have as a psychologist than the ability to really “see” the person you’re trying to help?
Until it all goes wrong for Greg, of course. It was at his lowest moment when I had to imagine the heroine who might come along and save him. A heroine who needs a little saving herself. I thought, how does a woman keep her secrets from a man who can see everything about her? The answer was simple. She couldn’t have any secrets. So I made her a blank slate.
This is my amnesia story, and while maybe it’s been done before, this is my attempt. I hope you enjoy Greg and Liza’s story.
I’ve lived with these characters who have ties to the Tyler Group—One Final Step (October 2012), An Act of Persuasion (March 2013) and For the First Time (October 2013)—for so long that I wasn’t quite ready to leave them. So I’ve written two novellas with some of the secondary characters: Elaine, Chuck, Sophie and Bay. Look for the digital book with both stories available now!
I love to hear from readers. Feel free to reach out to me at www.stephaniedoyle.net or on Twitter, @StephDoyleRW.
Happy reading!
Stephanie Doyle
Remembering That Night
Stephanie Doyle
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stephanie Doyle, a dedicated romance reader, began to pen her own romantic adventures at age sixteen. She began submitting to Harlequin lines at age eighteen, and by twenty-six her first book was published. Fifteen years later, she still loves what she does, as each book is a new adventure. She lives in South Jersey with her cat, Lex, and her two kittens, who have taken over everything. When she isn’t thinking about escaping to the beach, she’s working on her next idea.
Contents
PROLOGUE
“ALL IN.”
Greg looked at his opponent across the table. He watched the man’s eyes drop to the table. Watched him slow his breathing. Watched him try to erase every visible tell.
A regular poker player with years of experience no doubt. The old man had to be nearing seventy if he hadn’t already gotten there. His face was weathered. His teeth a hard yellow from years of smoking. Yeah, Greg was fairly certain this wasn’t his opponent’s first time in Atlantic City. It probably wasn’t even his first time putting what amounted to over ten thousand dollars up for gamble.
If Greg folded his cards, he would still leave the table up several thousand dollars. If he called and lost, he would lose both his stake and his day’s earnings. How many hours of play time was it? Ten? Twelve? He’d lost track at some point, but it sure would be a shame to have wasted all that time for nothing.
If he called and won then the world was his. At least for a moment.
Greg reached for his glass and took a shot of the subpar Scotch the casino provided. At one time in his degenerate life he would have insisted on only the best. Given his faithful patronage, the managers would have seen to it immediately. Plus they would have comped him a room and a meal, as well. Back in his Vegas days.