The Doctor Prince and the Outsider by Cami Checketts

CHAPTERSIX

Steffan waited impatiently for Hattie to return to the car. He had no doubt she could pull off securing a key, and the Grand Resort in the quiet, ritzy resort town of Bad Ragaz wasn’t a dangerous spot by any means, but he was uneasy with her gone.

How was he going to walk away after he made certain she got into her suite and most likely reunited her with some … Franz character? His gut turned over. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and wished he could get out and pace. None of his family did well being sedentary. His dad and Tristan had to endure hour upon hour of meetings they had to sit through, but they were active every chance they got. The rest of his family had careers or lives where they could move.

He wanted to move. Now.

He also wanted to ask Hattie why she’d called him her boyfriend. She could’ve said anything to the valet and the guy would’ve listened. Despite her clothes having some rips and her legs scratched, it was obvious her shorts, T-shirt, and shoes were top of the line and this area was used to hikers or backpackers. Hattie had a regal bearing, as if she were the royalty. Not to mention, she’d climbed out of a three-hundred-thousand-dollar luxury car. She didn’t have to make up an excuse.

My boyfriend. My boyfriend.

Those words from Hattie Ballard’s lips had sparked a fire in his chest and made his blood feel like it was dancing in his veins.

No. He had a busy career and a royal family. He couldn’t flit around Europe with some playgirl billionaire philanthropist. Malik would be perfect for the job. He should call his brother and ask him to watch out for Hattie.

Steffan gripped the steering wheel tighter. He loved Malik, but he wasn’t sharing Hattie with his brother—or anyone else, for that matter. What about Franz? Where was the guy? Why hadn’t he tracked her down? What was their relationship? Were they together, or travel buddies, or what was happening between them? She had called Steffan her boyfriend. It didn’t mean anything, and he was having very juvenile thoughts.

Hattie walked out the front doors, and he relaxed into the leather seat. The valet rushed up to her and walked her around the car, getting her door.

“Thank you,” Hattie said.

As soon as he shut the door, she handed Steffan a keycard. “Drive around the south side for the garage.”

“Okay.” He put it into gear and eased through the front circle and around the beautiful building. He slid off his sunglasses. She seemed really tense. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know. The front desk staff was gracious with me, but you know they’re trained to be, no matter the circumstances. The woman was initially stunned to see me. After I told her I was in a paragliding accident and barely released from the hospital, she kept saying, ‘Oh, that adds up’ over and over again. She finally admitted she’d seen Franz at the start of her shift, about one p.m. She thought he was leaving. She said he had a lot of luggage but oddly he didn’t check out. The suite is paid for through Sunday. They’ve cleaned it, but we’re welcome to stay.”

His eyebrows arched. He didn’t mind Franz being gone, but why would the guy clear out and not tell the front desk to watch for Hattie? If Franz was gone, it meant Steffan needed to stay. Hattie shouldn’t be alone.

It wouldn’t be easy to be away from his hospital. He worked insanely long hours, and he thrived at work. At the same time, he had competent staff and he consistently covered for the other doctors for family events, vacations, and sick leave. Any of them would be willing to return the favor, and they offered regularly to give him more time off. He always declined.

Instead of offering to stay with her, he should get her settled and appraise the situation. “Why would Franz leave? Do you think he was coming to find you?” He was giving the guy the benefit of the doubt, but it felt off.

“Probably.” She relaxed against the seat. She had to be exhausted.

He pulled up to the garage gate and held the key over the sensor. The gate slid open. He drove inside and found a spot on the second level. Hurrying around to get Hattie’s door, he was rewarded with a sweet smile as she stepped out of his car and into his space.

“You’re just a big, old gentlemanly prince, aren’t you?”

“I try, milady, I truly do.” He smiled and offered his arm.

She slid her hand through his arm, cupping his bicep. He liked the feeling and how she leaned into him.

They walked to the bank of elevators, and he passed the card over the sensor and pressed PH. Neither of them said anything, but she stayed close. She needed his help and support right now. Thank heavens he hadn’t just dropped her off.

The doors slid open, and they walked across an open area with fresh flowers on a side table and a large window showing the twinkling lights of the town below. He passed the keycard over the door handle and pushed the door in, holding it for her.

The penthouse was every bit as impressive as he’d imagined. The main area was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows and patio doors. He’d love to see the view in the daytime. The open space was airy and luxurious with white leather, stainless steel, and rich brown woods. There was a huge fireplace and even a grand piano.

“The entire floor?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

He looked down at her. “You really are a billionaire heiress.”

“And you’re a prince, so don’t act like you’re not used to luxury. I’ve seen photos of your castle.”

“You got me there.”

She did a double take around the room and when she looked back, he could tell something was wrong. Looking around, he couldn’t see anything out of place, but then he realized … there was nothing out of place. Even if the maid service had been through, if she and this Franz had been staying here, there would’ve been a book on the table, a jacket flung over a chair back, snacks on the counter … something personal.

“Can you excuse me for a second, please?”

“Sure.”

She hurried through the living area to a double door that he assumed was her suite. It appeared there were four suites off the main area, a nice kitchen, and even a spa and gym area. It was beautiful, but it felt too empty, too clean.

Hattie let out a cry.

Steffan took off at a run, racing through the main area and into her suite. His mind conjured up everything from an intruder to a spider.

She wasn’t in the main part of the bedroom. He hurried through the bedroom and into the spacious bathroom. He saw her in the attached closet, staring into the open safe.

No intruder or spiders that he could see. What he also couldn’t see … her luggage, clothes in the closet, toiletries in the bathroom, nothing of a personal nature.

She turned to him with wide eyes, pointed into the safe, and choked out, “It’s all gone.”

His own eyes widened. The safe was empty. “Your passport and extra cash?”

She nodded. “And credit cards, my laptop, my driver’s license … Why would he take everything?”

Steffan thought it was pretty obvious why he’d taken the money, credit cards, and laptop, but her driver’s license, passport, toiletries, and clothes? That was hitting below the belt, even for a lowly thief. Which apparently Franz was.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and escorted her out of the closet, through the bathroom, through the suite, and into the huge living area. The fact that she didn’t resist said loads. This was a woman who’d pretended she had amnesia and tried to escape his hospital not long ago. She was feisty and brave and independent.

He settled her on the couch and studied her. “Can I get you some water?”

Her brows rose. “After you get me Franz’s butt on a stick.”

Smiling at her sass, he walked to the kitchen area and pulled two glass water bottles out of the fridge, then paused. “Gas or no gas?” he asked.

“No gas, please.”

He held on to the non-carbonated water he’d chosen and strode back to her, sat by her side, and handed her one. He’d noticed most Americans preferred their water without carbonation, and he did as well.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She took a drink, then set it on the table in front of her. Scooting back against the cushions, she slid her shoes off and pulled her knees into her chest. She looked young and vulnerable, and he wanted to bring her Franz’s ‘butt on a stick.’ What a scum to take advantage of her like this. Had the man somehow set up even her accident?

She was in a mess. How could he best help her? They needed to contact the police, her credit card companies, and her cell phone company. She probably had an assistant and a financial team. Jensen could help.

“Do you think that loser set up the whole thing? Me crashing on the paraglider? Do you think he meant for me to die?”

She’d gotten there as quick as he had. “I don’t know. It’s possible. He knew what you were worth?”

She pulled a face. “Most people have an idea.” She blew out a breath and clung to her own legs. “I’ve been funding his lazy carcass all through the Alps. He’s been my guide. I can’t believe I trusted him.” She looked back at her suite as if seeing that open, empty safe. “I was careful with the safe. He never even came into that room, so there’s no way he saw me open it. How’d he get in there?”

“If he convinced the front desk that he forgot the code, they might’ve opened it for him.”

“Sheesh! I’m going to have a chat with somebody about that.” She leaned her head back against the cushion, but then her eyes got fierce. “Can I use your phone to report my credit cards stolen and my passport and driver’s license? At least we can shut him down from spending any more.”

“Sure.” He liked that she thought of practical things just like he had. “Do you have an assistant or financial team?”

“I have lawyers and investment teams, but I like to manage my day to day needs myself. I have some … trust issues.”

He nodded. It made sense with what she’d been through, not only witnessing and being framed for a murder but losing her parents. “Do you remember what type of credit cards you had?”

She thought and then nodded. “Amex Centurion, Capital One Venture X, Chase Sapphire Reserve, and MasterCard BlackCard.”

“Okay. I’ll get started looking up numbers for those cards. We also need to contact the police.”

She released her legs and grabbed the telephone off the side table, pressing a button. “Yes. This is Hattie Ballard. The man who was staying in my room stole my money, credit cards, passport, computer, clothing, and toiletries.” She paused. “I’m sorry too. I need to speak with someone from your police department. I also need a manager sent to the penthouse, along with a laptop, some toiletries to get my boyfriend and I through tonight … and some chocolate.” A pause. “Thank you.”

Steffan smiled, despite none of this being humorous. “Swiss chocolate?”

She’d called him her boyfriend again. He liked that. A little too much. She’d also assumed he was going to stay with her and help her out. He didn’t mind that. Not at all.

“Chocolate can cure what ails you,” she said firmly.

“I’m sure.”

He opened his internet app and started searching. Hattie spoke to the police, who promised to send out an alert nationwide and to the European Union, as who knew where Franz was at this point. She was on the phone with the second credit card company when a rap came at the door. Steffan hurried to answer it.

A young man waited with a roller cart of goods. “Sir. We deeply apologize for Miss Ballard’s discomfort. The manager will be here shortly but wanted me to bring up some supplies.”

“Thank you.”

Steffan helped him unload a large snack basket, drinks, toiletries, pajamas, robes, slippers, a MacBook Pro, and more chocolate than ten people could eat.

“A breakfast spread will be here whenever you request it, sir, ma’am.” He nodded to both of them, then turned to go.

“How much do I owe you?” Steffan pulled out his wallet.

Hattie hung up the hotel phone and stared at Steffan as if he’d grown two heads. “They’ll bill it to my room,” Hattie said, as if there was no other option.

“I’m going to pay for it,” Steffan explained. “The hotel might have their charge rejected as you’re canceling your credit cards.”

She stood and strode over to them, looking uncertain and upset. “The hotel knows I’m good for it. They can run up a tab until I have my new credit cards.”

“Hattie, it’s fine.” Steffan had never had someone blatantly refuse to let him pay for something. “I’m happy to pay. It’s no concern.”

She growled at him, actually growled. “It’s huge concern,” she shot at him, jutting out her chin. “You’re already doing too much for me.”

“I’m happy to help,” he insisted.

“Sir … ma’am … forgive the interruption,” the young man said. “Everything is on the hotel. The manager is insistent on that. Please accept our sincere apologies.”

“Oh.” Steffan wasn’t sure what to say. The man had settled the discussion, but it bothered him that Hattie didn’t want him to pay. Yes, he was doing a lot for her. He could be risking a whole lot if the Rindlesbachers ever discovered the connection, but he wanted to do it. He was a gentleman and a prince.

He handed the guy forty euros. “For a tip,” he said when the guy looked ready to refuse it.

“Thank you.” The young man nodded to him.

“Wait,” Hattie said. “No. Let me tip him.”

“I’ve got it.” Why was she fighting with him about paying for things? What was she planning to tip the young man with? “Is seven all right for breakfast so we can get to Bern for your appointment with your embassy?”

“Yes, thank you,” Hattie murmured. She studied him as if seeing him in a new light.

Was she too independent to accept him paying for things? Was he being too decisive? As the CMO of a busy hospital, he had to make decisions all the time. The last woman he’d dated, an accomplished violinist for the Austrian Symphony, hadn’t liked that at all. She had told him he was ‘a male chauvinist parading as a gentleman prince’ a few times before they parted ways. He’d hated that and hadn’t known had to defend himself without digging himself deeper.

“Perfect. Thank you, sir, ma’am.” The young man bowed his way out.

“I’m sorry,” Hattie said. “I’ll pay you back.”

“No, you won’t.” He gave her what he hoped was a gallant smile, nervous for her reaction and wondering if she was the type that didn’t like a ‘decisive gentleman,’ as Malik liked to call him.

Hattie’s eyes widened. She stared at him for a few beats.

The hotel phone rang.

“I’ll get it,” Steffan said.

“It could be Sadie.”

Hattie turned and picked up the phone. When she first thanked the caller for the clothes, food, computer, and snacks, he realized it was the hotel manager. She filled him in on the situation and from Steffan’s limited side of the conversation, the man was apologizing profusely and asking what else he could do. Hattie kept insisting it wasn’t his fault and that she appreciated his help.

She was very gracious for a billionaire heiress. Steffan’s family was wealthy and royals and they all treated people kindly, so he supposed he shouldn’t be so shocked with Hattie’s intriguing mix of feisty independence and polite sweetness.

Half an hour later, they’d filled Jensen in on the situation. He agreed to use his contacts with Interpol to help find Franz Wengreen. They contacted all of her credit card companies, the U.S. Embassy, the state of Texas, and her cell phone company. Every credit card company and her cell phone provider promised to have replacements sent to her in Bad Ragaz by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.

Hattie was gracious with everyone, but it was obvious the status and wealth she had. Though each person was professional, they bent over backwards to help her. The government wasn’t quite as accommodating. She’d have to get to the closest U.S. Embassy—they said in Traverse, Augustine, but she insisted on Bern—to get a temporary passport. She had an appointment for tomorrow morning. Would he go with her? He’d texted a few of his colleagues and they’d readily agreed to cover for him, but he didn’t like being away from his hospital for too long.

It was sickening to hear from each credit card company how many charges had accrued over the past six hours. Some of the charges could be stopped, but for most, the credit card companies would have to swallow accrued charges as fraudulent. Franz had definitely taken advantage of his time with Hattie’s unlimited credit cards. The latest charges were in Zurich. Apparently, he’d booked a river suite at the Baur au Lac, a posh hotel at thirty-five hundred a night. The Swiss police were informed and were on their way to capture him.

Hattie tried to get ahold of her cousin Sadie and Sadie’s husband Wolf. Again. It rang straight to voice mail.

“Crap,” she muttered. “They must be on a mission without service, or it’s the middle of the night wherever they are.”

He nodded his understanding. “We can try again in the morning. I really think as your doctor that you need to get some rest. This has been a lot of stress and you were in an accident not long ago.”

“I just want to wait up long enough to hear if the police captured that jerk.”

“Okay. Are you hungry for something other than chocolate?” She’d had a few squares, and he’d eaten more than his fair share of the chocolate and snacks. He’d skipped dinner.

“No.” She leaned back against the couch. She looked vulnerable, beautiful, and … “You don’t need to stay with me. I’ll be fine to deal with this on my own.”

He studied her. Was she testing him? Trying to get rid of him? Ready to assert her independence? She’d asked the front desk earlier for toiletries for both of them. Had she changed her mind about him staying? Was he being overbearing like Analisa had felt?

“Hattie. I don’t think you should be alone right now. I’m happy to stay here with you.”

She jutted out her chin. He thought she was going to argue with him, but then suddenly her eyes got bright, she was blinking quick, and tears spilled out and raced down her face.

Jumping to her feet, she hurried toward her suite.

It might’ve been the wrong move, but Steffan rushed to intercept her. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Hattie … it’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

She looked up at him, her dark eyes bright and beguiling. If she ducked past him or pushed him away, he’d have to respect that, but he wanted to hold her and help her and somehow fix all of this.

She shocked him when she leaned against him and wrapped her arms around his lower back. Steffan immediately wrapped her up tight and held her.

She’d been through so much in the past twelve hours. It was interesting that his perception of her was a billionaire heiress playgirl with dozens of friends, but she was very much alone right now.

No, not alone. She had him.

“You’re all right,” he said softly after a few minutes of simply holding her and letting her cry. “I’m not going anywhere, and we’ll figure this out together.”

She glanced sharply up at him. “Why are you so …” She shook her head and didn’t finish. Pulling from his grasp, she studied the windows behind him. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate …” Her lip quivered, and she broke off. “Thank you.”

She hurried into her room, and Steffan let her go this time. He stared at the closed door for a long while. Hattie seemed so confident and sassy, but she was at a low point. He was happy to help—he liked to help and serve and fix things.

But this feeling with Hattie was more than simply a desire to be there for someone who needed a friend. He wanted to be around Hattie Ballard.

Pulling his phone out, he texted his fellow doctors again. He’d already asked for help for tomorrow, but he requested a few days off. He shouldn’t be so interested in a woman who’d sworn to never return to his beloved country and was more independent than even Analisa had been.

But Hattie Ballard held his interest like no woman he’d ever met.