Her dark hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and there were faint shadows beneath her eyes like she’d been working too hard and sleeping too little. She looked young, standing in the middle of all the machines surrounding him. She was too young for him. That thought should have mattered more than it did. Instead, Graham found himself watching the way she moved—the confidence in her steps, the softness in her expression, and the intelligence in those warm eyes.
“Good afternoon,” she said politely.
Martin immediately straightened like he’d just been caught doing something illegal. “Doctor.”
Mia gave him a small smile before looking at Graham. “How are we feeling today?” No one had asked Graham how he felt in years. They asked what he needed, what he wanted, and what they could do for him, but never how he felt.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” he answered.
She smiled. “Still no truck involved, I’m afraid.” His chest tightened unexpectedly. Her smile did something dangerous to him.
Martin cleared his throat awkwardly. “I should let you work, sir.” Graham barely acknowledged him. The second the door closed, the room felt quieter and more intimate.
Mia walked toward the bed while checking his chart. “Your vitals look much better today.”
“You sound disappointed about that, doctor,” he teased.
Her eyes flicked toward his. “Not at all. I’m just happy that you’re still here with us,” she insisted. “You seem like a pretty stubborn person, so I’m betting that has something to do with it.” He actually laughed at that, and the sound surprised both of them.
“You’re honest. I like that,” he said.
“I’m tired,” she corrected. “There’s a difference.” Graham watched her adjust his IV carefully, and suddenly, he found himself wondering what those hands would feel like touching him without gloves between them. The thought hit him hard enough that he frowned.
He didn’t think like that anymore. He especially didn’t think like this about women young enough to be his daughter. “You should be resting,” she told him quietly.
“I slept earlier,” he said.
“Yeah, for about twenty minutes,” she challenged.
He laughed. “Are you checking up on me?” The moment the words left his mouth, Mia seemed to realize what she’d admitted. A faint blush crept into her cheeks, which he found adorable.
“I check on all my patients,” she said carefully. She was lying. He could see it in her eyes. And for some reason, knowing she’d been thinking about him made something possessive unfurl deep inside his chest.
“What caused the accident?” she asked while writing something on the chart.
Graham’s jaw tightened immediately. “There was a problem with my brakes.”
Her hand paused. “That sounds serious.”
“It is,” he said. Mia slowly looked up at him then, and Graham could practically see the intelligence working behind her eyes as pieces clicked together.
“You think someone did it intentionally,” she said, not really asking a question.
He held her gaze. “I know they did,” he admitted. The room went silent. Most people reacted to statements like that with disbelief or fear, but Mia only looked concerned for him.
“You should tell the police,” she insisted.
“I already did,” he said.
“And what did they say?” she asked.
“They promised to investigate my claim,” he said. She didn’t look convinced, but neither was he. The truth was Graham already knew who was responsible. The problem was proving it.
“Do you have security?” she asked softly.
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why?”
“Because if someone wanted to hurt you once, they might try again while you’re in here,” she said. Jesus, the concern in her voice hit him harder than the accident had. Most people cared about Graham Calloway because of his money, influence, and power. This woman barely knew him, and she was worried about whether he was safe.