The Doctor Prince and the Outsider by Cami Checketts

CHAPTERTHREE

Hattie breathed a sigh of relief when ‘Doctor Prince’ Steffan closed the door, but she strangely missed his all-consuming presence. He was impressive and attractive, that was for certain. Maybe more impressive than any of the thousands of successful, handsome, and inspiring men she’d met in her travels around the world rubbing shoulders with royalty, celebrities, dignitaries, and military heroes alike.

And she couldn’t care about that right now. She had to get out of here. Detective Jensen Allendale—no, Chief Jensen Allendale—was on his way. She could hear the doomsday music playing in the background.

Did she dare buzz that nurse, Melanie, and beg her to find her clothes? The woman had seemed far too perceptive. What if she realized Hattie was lying about having amnesia? Steffan had given her a few looks that made her think he might be on to her too. Crap. She hated the thought of never seeing him again, but it was what had to happen.

She couldn’t sneak out of here without her clothes. How long until Jensen got here? Her stomach tumbled with apprehension. The dinner actually smelled delicious, and she had no idea how long it had been since she’d eaten, but she didn’t have time for that now. Either she had to get brave and ask Melanie for clothes, wait for that other nurse who fawned over Steffan to track down her clothes and bring them to her room, or sneak out and steal some.

Hmm. Option number three sounded like the most proactive idea. She slid out of bed, clutching the gown at the back. She hated this stupid thin robe. Except for when Steffan had put his manly hand on her back and the tingles and warmth from that palm and fingers had seeped through the washed-too-many-times fabric.

Stop it, she commanded herself. If all went well, she’d never see the good doctor again. That stunk, as he was the first man who had truly captured her attention in … she couldn’t remember a man who’d drawn her in like the kind doctor prince had. Sheesh, that was dumb and not the most important matter of the moment. She would go to prison for murder if she didn’t get out of here. Jensen had done far too much to protect and help her when Jane had been killed. She couldn’t go back on her promise to never return to this beautiful and miniscule country. How had she landed plop in the middle of the one place she didn’t want to be? And where was Franz? Had he been injured or killed?

Creeping to the door, she wondered if she should sneak up on a nurse close to her size and knock her out and steal her clothes. Oh, and she needed a phone to call Sadie. She knew Sadie and Wolf would come for her. The only people she could truly trust in this world were her cousin and husband.

It was an okay plan, but she flinched thinking about knocking out a nurse. She didn’t like to hurt people, and would that be another crime to add to the list she’d supposedly committed in this beautiful country?

A rap on the door came and then it pushed open. Hattie startled to see the pretty young nurse stride in, holding her clothes and her Sorrells. Shaylee? Yes, that was it.

She’d forgive the lady for hitting on Steffan a million times over. Shaylee had brought her clothes. Now she wouldn’t have to knock a nurse out. She just had to sneak out and charm some unsuspecting man into buying her dinner, ‘borrowing’ his phone, and calling Sadie—or if she couldn’t remember Sadie’s number, she’d look up one of her lawyers or financial guys numbers or she could easily find the number for the hotel in Bad Ragaz. They knew who she was and had her credit cards on file. They would send somebody to get her and soon she’d have her phone, money, passport, computer, suitcases, lip gloss … ah, life would be good. It would all work out.

“Oh … What are you doing out of bed?” Shaylee paused and stared at her. “Are you all right? You should be resting.”

“I’m feeling really great, thank you so much.” She eyed her shirt, shorts, bra, panties, socks, and Sorrels hungrily. “Thank you for bringing my clothes. I can’t wait to get out of this.” She turned and showed off her bare tush that she’d guarded so carefully from the doctor prince.

The nurse laughed. “I bet. They’re fresh out of the laundry, and they even scrubbed your dirty shoes clean. Do you need help changing?”

“Oh, no. I really am feeling great. Just the bothersome amnesia thing.”

“I’m sorry. I hope your memory comes back soon. You look really familiar to me. Are you famous on TikTok or something?”

Oh, crap. Hattie posted on social media occasionally, sometimes paparazzi liked to feature her, and as a young female billionaire she had a lot of followers interested in what her latest grand adventure was.

“No. I wish. Are you?” Hattie put on a simpering look. The nurse was a very nice girl, just a bit too smitten with Dr. Steffan. What woman wouldn’t be?

“I have an account where I share tips on strength training and my favorite Paleo recipes. Would you like to follow me?”

“Ah, that’s why you look so fit. I would love to follow you, but I don’t have my phone. Can you write your tag down for me and I’ll follow you as soon as I get my phone back?”

“Of course.” The nurse set the clothes down on the bed and the shoes on the floor. She wrote down her information on a pad of paper, ripped off the top page, and then handed it to Hattie.

“Thank you.” Hattie prayed she’d leave now. She had to get moving. Detective Jensen could be here any minute.

“Sure. Do you need anything else?”

“No, but thank you very much.”

Please leave, please leave.

“Okay. Have a good night.”

“You too.”

The door had barely closed behind Shaylee when Hattie ripped off the robe and quickly slid into her own clothes. Her blue Gymshark shorts had a couple rips and the gray T-shirt did as well, but they were hers and they were clean and they were her ticket out of here. She slid on her socks, tied her favorite hiking shoes, and then hurried to the door. Easing it open, she looked both ways. To her right was the nurse’s station, to her left … the stairs and freedom.

The two nurses were chatting and looking at their computer screens. She eased out the door and speed-walked to the left. Her head still hurt, but miraculously everything else was feeling halfway normal.

“Hey,” a female voice called from behind her.

Hattie looked over her shoulder.

Melanie stood from the nurse’s station and started her direction. “Where are you going?”

Hattie didn’t waste the oxygen to answer. She took off running down the hallway. Footsteps pounded after her. Shoot. What was the penalty for escaping a hospital?

Staying meant jail time for a murder charge she hadn’t committed, so escape was her only option.

“Wait! Stop!”

Sprinting down the long hallway, she saw the sign for ‘Exit’ fast approaching. Praise was due to her parents and aunt and uncle watching over her from above. Nobody else in heaven would want to waste their time on her.

She burst through the door. The stairs. Perfect. Pumping down the stairs, she hoped beyond hope they exited to the outside. She needed distance from this hospital, one handsome doctor prince, and especially the impending doom of Detective Chief Jensen.

She hit the landing, but sadly it wasn’t the outside entrance. The door led into the hospital’s main foyer. She had to get across the wide open space.

“Stop!” Melanie yelled from above her. “Please stop. We won’t hurt you.”

No, but they’d probably strap her to the bed until Jensen came for her.

She pushed open the stairway door and could see couches, chairs, and desks in the waiting area, lots of windows framing the open space, and two lovely sets of sliding glass doors with glorious sunshine on the other side. Freedom!

Racing out of the stairway, she plowed right into a body. A man. A man had dared to step right in her way, wrap her up in his strong arms, and hold her against his strong chest.

A man in gray doctor’s scrubs, the V-neck showing off just how nice that chest was. As she made her way from his chest up to his face, she drew in a breath and would’ve cursed, but Dr. Steffan was looking at her with such concern that she held it in.

The stairway door burst open from behind and Melanie and another nurse rushed out, both panting for air.

“Angelica.” Melanie stared between them and sighed. “Oh, thank you. You caught her.”

“I did.” Steffan searched her face as if hoping for answers to why she’d run from the nurses. “I’ll bring her back to her room,” he told the nurses. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Melanie said.

The other one muttered something about wishing she’d run into the prince’s arms.

Oh, boy.

Hattie tried to pull back, but Steffan held her fast. She didn’t like how very, very perfect it felt to be in his strong arms.

“Angelica,” he murmured, staring at her with those blue eyes that made her knees weak.

Ridiculous. Hattie Ballard didn’t get weak in the knees, even if the man was a prince, a doctor, and the most handsome and nicest guy she’d ever encountered.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Perfect. Just headed out for an evening run. I like to do that after dinner. Aids digestion.”

He stared for half a beat, and then he chuckled. “I’ll have to try that.”

“You should. Now, if you’ll please excuse me.” She tried, and failed, to pull out of his arms.

“I’m going to walk you back up to your room to rest,” he said in a no-nonsense, doctorly voice.

Hattie was … surprised. If she hadn’t needed to escape so badly, she would’ve been impressed. Nobody told her what to do. Her mom had always tried, but now she was in heaven and all her efforts to teach and love Hattie had failed. Hattie wasn’t even a believer anymore. Her mom used to say to her, ‘If I lose you physically, it’ll kill me, but losing you spiritually would be even more devastating.’ Hattie had lost her parents physically and lost herself spiritually. She feared her mom was all kinds of devastated up in heaven.

Steffan didn’t wait for her to respond but escorted her to the stairway door. He released her with one hand to pull the door open. Before she could scramble away from him, he wrapped her up tight again and then shuffled her back into the stairway and toward the stairs.

“You can’t manhandle me like this,” she protested. Why did her protest sound so weak and breathless? “I have rights.”

He stopped moving and looked down at her, and just like that she lost the ability to draw a full breath. “You do have rights, but as long as you have an altered mental status. Amnesia,” he clarified in a too-sane, calm, doctorly voice that was still so beautiful with that accent, “and no one to look after you, I can’t allow you to leave, even if it means restraining you for your own protection. I’m legally and ethically obligated to keep you here.” His gaze was penetrating. “You have no identification or money, and you don’t even know your own name. Where were you going to run to, Angelica?”

She really, really wanted to hear him say her name. Hattie in his deep, lyrical accent would be insane. Such a silly thing in the midst of her need to escape, but she wanted it clear down to her toes.

“I told you, just a quick evening jog. I’ll run right back to rest in that fabulous hospital bed after I get my workout in. So you do not need to worry a bit about keeping your legal and ethical obligations.” She smiled, maybe sweetly, probably sarcastically.

He arched an eyebrow. “Why do I not believe you?”

“Because you’re un-trusting? You need to work on that, doc. Now kindly let me go so I can get my digestion-aiding run accomplished.”

He laughed and actually released her, but then he backed her into the wall and pinned her with his hands on each side of her shoulders.

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, and suddenly his voice wasn’t doctorly or commanding. It was husky and low and lovely with that romantic accent, and ooh boy … her heart pitter-pattered like nothing she’d ever experienced.

“I’m sure a big, strong doctor like you would love to give me one sweet kiss and then send me on my way.”

His eyes widened. “One sweet kiss?” he asked, his voice going almost rough in its huskiness. His gaze traveled to her lips and lodged there.

Hattie’s heart was racing out of control, and she could not swallow down the need for him. What was happening to her, and should she let it happen?

No! The answer was a whole load of no. Princes of Augustine were not on her radar. Jensen was coming. She needed to panic—to run.

“Please,” she murmured, faint and leaning into the wall so she wouldn’t collapse. “You have to let me go. I’m in danger staying here.”

His gaze darted to her again, and he eased back slightly. “Danger? From who?”

“I don’t remember,” she lied. She wasn’t in danger. Detective Jensen had been a gentleman and a hero. The man had protected her from prison five years ago. The problem was, being back in Augustine was dangerous to her freedom. Hattie had never forgiven herself for Jane’s death and had been running from the awful memories, an unreasonable fear of Treven, since he was in prison, and the panic that rose every time she thought of being locked up and blamed for a murder she didn’t commit. She had led Treven to her friend, so she blamed herself. If somebody wanted to psychoanalyze her, they’d realize Jane’s death had started her own path of faithless wandering.

“Please, please let me go,” she begged.

“Angelica …” His voice was soft and so kind. He stepped back. She was tempted to try to dodge around him and make a run for it, but she wouldn’t get far before he caught her again. “You’ve got amnesia, a head injury, and no ID or money. Where are you going to go?”

“I have persuasive powers you can’t even imagine.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He rested his palms on the end of his stethoscope. “I don’t doubt that at all.”

Hattie relaxed for half a beat. She jutted out her chin. “I can talk someone into helping me get far from here.”

“I’m sure you can, but where would you go?”

“Just … away, all right?”

His brow furrowed, and he stared at her intensely. Did he know she was lying? Could he feel her fear? Did he have any clue how appealing he was?

He was so honorable and gentlemanly, this princely doctor. Too bad she’d never see him again after she somehow escaped.

The door opened behind Steffan, and they both turned to look. A lean, dark-haired man a few inches shorter than Steffan leaned against the door frame and grinned. “Prince Steffan. Chasing Jane Does around the hospital, I hear?”

Steffan gave an unsteady chuckle as Hattie’s heart raced out of control, her stomach dropped to the floor, and her palms got sweaty.

Detective Jensen.

Her life was over.

She couldn’t get past Steffan and escape and now Jensen was here as another tough, manly barrier she’d never bust through. This was an absolute nightmare. As soon as Jensen looked at her …

She was in a crap-load of trouble.

Jensen’s eyes swung to her, and he put out his hand as if to assist her. “Don’t worry, Miss. I won’t let this too-charming prince doctor …” he trailed off, his eyes widened, and then he jerked his hand back. “You!”

Steffan’s gaze swiveled between the two of them.

“Please.” Hattie’s voice trembled. “I didn’t mean to crash land in Augustine. I promise I wouldn’t have broken my word. Please, please just let me go.”

Jensen stared at her as if she were a ghost from his past he never wanted to meet again. She supposed she was. He stepped into the stairwell and let the door close behind him. Was he going to bust out the handcuffs or pepper spray? Hattie edged closer to Steffan. She hated to let him take the shot of pepper spray, but maybe it would be her chance to make a run for it.

“Ah, no,” Jensen muttered. “You can’t be here. Do you have any idea what I’ve gone through to keep everybody from believing Treven and keep your full name and description from being sent to Interpol?”

Interpol. Hattie thought of those movies with Matt Damon where he was running through countries and every police force in the world seemed to be after him. She’d have to hire a lot of help. First she had to get out of here and get access to her money.

“Interpol? What is going on?” Steffan looked at Jensen.

A muscle worked in the detective’s jaw, and he studied Hattie as if she were a pit viper ready to spring at him.

“I’m so sorry,” Hattie managed. “I never would’ve come here willingly. Please just let me go. I have money and power and I can stay away. I promise.”

“Angelica?” Steffan stared at her now, his blue eyes demanding answers.

“That is not Angelica or Jane Doe,” Jensen said. “Her name is Hattie Ballard—billionaire, famous socialite, and,” he lowered his voice, “wanted for the murder of one Jane Presley.”

“Murder?” Steffan’s voice pitched up. “Hattie?”

Hattie couldn’t even focus on the disappointment of Steffan finally saying her name, but not all sweet and romantic like she’d envisioned. She leaned against the wall, despair filling her. Wanted for murder. Would Jensen help her again, or had he done all he could do? Was there a Matt Damon character out there she could hire to run through countries with her? Wolf would know somebody. It sounded terrifying, miserable, and she’d never see Steffan again.

“Please,” she whispered, grateful the stairwell was deserted. “Let me call my cousin Sadie. She and her husband Wolf will come for me. They’ll take me away and you won’t ever have to see me or deal with me again.” She could also call the enigmatic and famous Sutton Smith. He’d helped her send Wolf to save Sadie.

“Not see you again?” Steffan’s blue eyes looked wounded. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Murder, Steffan,” Jensen said in a deceptively soft but very steely voice. “She’s wanted for Jane Presley’s murder.” His jaw worked. “Nobody knows who you are or that you’re here?”

She shook her head. “Except for you two.”

“Nobody’s recognized you?”

“Nurse Shaylee asked if I was famous, but I lied my way out of it. Probably helps that I don’t look too fabulous.”

“You’re not dolled up like usual,” Jensen sort-of agreed.

“You don’t have amnesia,” Steffan stated flatly.

“No, I don’t. I lied to you. I’m so sorry.” She met his gaze and begged him to believe how sorry she was.

Steffan’s brows rose, but he didn’t respond.

“Come on.” Jensen gestured up the stairs.

Why up the stairs? Was he going to take her to the roof and dangle her feet off the edge while he demanded she never return to Augustine and jeopardize his career? Where was his pepper spray and cuffs? He had a gun on his hip. He wouldn’t shoot her, right?

Hattie turned and obediently climbed the stairs. She didn’t know what else to do. Her legs felt like blocks of concrete. Her breath was coming so quick she was getting lightheaded. The two men solemnly followed her. Nobody said anything.

She was marching to her execution.

If only Steffan hadn’t looked at her like she’d injured him. Somehow that made it worse.

Steffan’s feelings couldn’t factor in right now. She’d injure him a lot more if she involved him in this mess.

Jensen was a great man. He’d proven that five years ago when he believed her and helped her escape instead of prosecuting her for Jane’s murder.

And somehow she’d managed to put this great man in a situation where he had no choice but to arrest her or … dispose of her? That might be the easier option for him than all that he’d probably had to hide coming to light. Steffan wouldn’t let Jensen kill her. Jensen wouldn’t kill her. But he might have been convinced that Treven was telling the truth over the years and be ready to arrest her. She snuck a glance over her shoulder. Jensen’s face was tight, his mouth pursed. Steffan’s face was … disappointed. She hated that but could do nothing about it.

Please, Heavenly Father, she prayed. I know my soul is a lost cause, but my parents, aunt and uncle and cousin are saints. Can you use some of their bonus points and help me out?

She should’ve been stunned that she was praying but she was too afraid to analyze that right now.

Jensen directed her down the patient hall. She walked to her room because she wasn’t sure where else to go. At least it wasn’t the rooftop.

They made it back to her room and Steffan held the door for her. She brushed past him, and warmth filled her body. It was silly and out of place with the danger they were in. If only … no, there was no if only.

Her only course right now was to beg or bribe Jensen into breaking all kinds of laws for her. Again. Maybe even offer him a private island or a Lamborghini. It wasn’t a bad bribe if she was truly innocent, right? A significant contribution to the Augustine Police Force Memorial Fund?

Whatever it took to get the heck out of this beautiful country and away from this more beautiful prince. She met Steffan’s blue gaze. He looked injured knowing she’d lied, and he looked like … he cared for her.

Ah, no. She had to get away, and fast. Neither of them could be ‘caring’ for each other. That was a recipe for disaster, and she was already in the middle of a full-blown disaster.

Please, please let Jensen still believe me and be willing to help me. I’ll give up my fortune and go volunteer with Wolf and Sadie in the dirt.

There she went praying again, but even living in squalor didn’t sound as bad as prison. Never seeing Steffan again sounded like the worst punishment of all.