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Dr. August put both of his firm, manly hands on her shoulders and held her gently. “Calm down, or we’ll have to sedate you again.”
They’d sedated her earlier. That was the prick in her arm and why she’d semi-woken but crashed hard again. Maybe she wouldn’t mind sedation. Not thinking or knowing how much trouble she was in right now would be wonderful. If she didn’t wake up in a jail cell. She had to get ahold of her lawyers and have somebody fly here and get her out of here.
Her body stilled under the prince’s touch, almost of its own volition. His touch was stimulating and comforting and … she couldn’t let him get to her like that. She couldn’t fight her way free, so she had to use her brains, her power, her money, her influence, to get the heck out of here.
His touch was distracting her. Making her want to just stare into those beautiful blue eyes and worry about her troubles later. Had he shot some morphine into her veins while she was gazing into his eyes?
Dr. Steffan August. What an appealing man. One of the sought-after princes of Augustine. The ‘doctor prince’ that women flipped out about. She could understand why, but that didn’t mean she could allow herself to be in his power.
“That’s right,” he said, probably referring to her calming down, but his touch was somehow ‘right’ to her.
“It’ll be okay,” he continued. “Please don’t move until we complete the CT scans on your head, neck, and back. I haven’t seen any evidence of broken bones or protrusions, only scratches and future bruises, but with the wreck you had, and how long you were unconscious, I’d like to rule out brain contusion or spinal cord injury before you move.” His lovely accent was as soothing as it was sensual.
Who cared about his accent? She was going to prison.
“Am I actually in Augustine?” she asked, horror filling her. She should be terrified to be strapped down with possible spinal cord damage, but she was only scared of that generous and saintly detective finding her again.
Detective Jensen Allendale. She’d thought he was dang cute with his dark eyes and handsome face, until he started questioning her and explained she was being blamed for the death of her sweet friend Jane.
She’d led that jack-tard Treven right to her friend, believing he was interested in shy, beautiful Jane. She’d watched her friend die and tried to help. Why Treven had knocked Hattie out rather than killing her as well made no sense, until she realized he was framing her for Jane’s death. If not for Detective Jensen’s intervention, Treven would’ve succeeded. If Treven’s parents knew she was around, knew who she was … Fear coated her throat.
She’d been running from that night for years. If she was in Augustine, the running might be over. What would prison be like? Or would Treven’s family find her and kill her first? She shuddered.
“Yes, you are.” Dr. August grinned broadly. “Have you been to our beautiful country before?”
“Nope,” she lied.
A pretty nurse walked around a curtain and up to her bed.
“Keri. Our patient is coming around.”
“Wonderful. The CT machine is ready, Dr. August.”
Hattie rolled her eyes at the breathy quality of the nurse’s voice. Yes, this man was super fine, and a prince, but Hattie had been around loads of men who were better-looking and more impressive.
“Thank you, Keri.” Dr. August turned back to Hattie and offered a warm, reassuring smile.
Okay, she was lying about everything right now. She hadn’t been around anyone better looking than the Doctor Prince. Who knew about more impressive? A prince who spent his time as a doctor in an emergency room and seemed as kind and good-natured as anyone she’d been around even though she’d acted nuts about being dead, screamed at him when he said his name, and probably looked a fright.
Prince Steffan was definitely … a little impressive.
“We’ll take you in for the CT scan, but I’d love to know your name first.”
Hattie’s pulse sped up. Oh, he’d ‘love to know her name,’ would he? Was the good doc hitting on her? She couldn’t even lift a hand to fluff her hair and wipe the makeup from under her eyes. She moistened her lips. Everybody wanted to be on Hattie Ballard’s good side. Would this handsome doctor be the same?
“I’d love to get off this bed, so maybe when that happens I’ll justhappento remember my name.” She raised an impertinent eyebrow.
Dr. August laughed. “That’ll happen as soon as we can clear you of spinal injury. You didn’t have any identification on you. We need your name for the medical records and to let your family know you’re all right.”
She almost fired up at that. Her only family who still lived and cared if she was all right was in some forsaken jungle with no cell service. More important than being devastated and defensive about her lack of family was something else he’d said.
No I.D. on her. It clicked. For the first time since Jane had been murdered, maybe she wouldn’t hide behind her wealth, fame, and influence. She’d fly under the radar and escape like Detective Jensen had helped her do years ago. She’d need to use her brain and keep her wits about her.
Maybe she wouldn’t even cuss Franz for taking all her stuff that could’ve easily identified her. The handsome and charming prince didn’t know who she was. If she could keep it that way, maybe she could get out of this country without that detective finding her. Detective Jensen had gone rogue and risked his career. He and a quiet older detective had conferred and believed her instead of Treven’s lies. They’d decided not to reveal to anyone else that they’d found her unconscious on her friend’s dead body. The other detective had gone to deal with the scene and aftermath.
Jensen had driven her to a border town in the middle of night and explained, ‘Please get far away from here. The Rindlesbacher family is powerful and underhanded. If you return, and they can prove you’re the woman Treven is trying to frame, I’ll have no choice but to arrest you and charge you with Jane Presley’s murder.’
Murder. So heartbreaking.
