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“If I must.” She plunked it on. No one should recognize her with no makeup, her dark hair covered, and her clothes ripped.
“The plan is sadly simple.” Jensen shook his head morosely. “Steffan will drive you to Bad Ragaz. You remember your hotel and room?”
“The Grand Resort, penthouse.”
“Of course.” Jensen smiled and rolled his eyes. “Can you talk the front desk into giving you a room key?”
“Of course.” She rolled her eyes back at him.
Steffan chuckled.
“All your things should still be there. I’m betting even the failed paraglide instructor—Franz, was it?”
“Yes. Handsome and charming, but pathetic at paragliding Franz.”
Steffan’s smile slid away. Hattie wondered if he was jealous of some man he’d never met. He shouldn’t be. Nobody was Steffan’s equal, and if Franz was chilling in her penthouse suite, he had some explaining to do.
“Once you have your things, you can get far away from my beautiful country and any risk of the Rindlesbachers finding you?” Jensen asked.
“Yes, I can. I will.” Rindlesbachers. Were Treven’s parents truly as awful as he was?
Franz had offered to carry everything for her since she hadn’t had great pockets or a bag on the paraglide—her phone, money, and credit card. He’d probably spent the day searching for her, unless he’d gotten injured as well. She frowned. The hotel would help her find him if he wasn’t already there. She had extra cash, credit cards, her laptop, her passport, and her driver’s license in the hotel safe. Her clothes and toiletries would be there, too. A shower and the comfortable penthouse suite bed sounded lovely. If Franz had lost her phone, it would be an inconvenience to find the numbers for Sadie and Wolf, her lawyers, investment people, pilot, yacht captain, home management company, and numerous friends, but they should be backed up on her computer.
“And I’ll never see you again.” Jensen gave her a significant look.
“Poor, poor man,” she teased.
He smiled and looked past her to Steffan. “You don’t mind driving her?”
“I have a few hours open tonight.”
Something passed between the two men. Hattie wished she knew their secret nonverbal language.
“All right. Thank you. Best wishes to you, Hattie.”
“And you. Thank you for everything.” She said the words with all the sincerity and feeling she could muster.
He nodded, stood, closed her door, and strode off.
“That is a great man,” Hattie said. She didn’t think anybody but her dad, uncle, or Wolf would risk so much for her.
“He is.” Steffan started the car and put it into gear. “There are several pairs of glasses in the console, if you want to try some on. Sorry they’re all manly glasses.”
“I’m glad you don’t have feminine glasses,” she teased.
“All out.” He lifted one hand and smiled at her.
He drove out of the parking lot and down the wide city street. The Riverwalk park appeared again. That walk had been picturesque … until it hadn’t. She shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No. Just remembering when I was here before and the Riverwalk.” She glanced at him. Everything about Jane’s death was close to the surface right now.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Not your fault.” They drove onto a divided highway and straight west, if the glare of the low-riding sun on the windows and against her pupils was any indication. She fished around for the smallest pair of sunglasses in the console and put them on. “It’s a gorgeous city. So much history.”
“It is. I’m sorry you won’t be able to stay longer, or return.” He glanced at her and even with sunglasses on, she felt his sincerity.
