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“Did you injure yourself when you fell? And do not tell me that you’re fine, Spitfire.”
“I didn’t injure myself when I fell,” she muttered, looking stubborn.
Steele thought he wanted someone who would jump when he barked. That he wanted instant obedience and no arguments.
But that shit bored him after a day.
He needed someone sweet. But also with a bit of sass. And when Effie forgot to be scared or worried, she had sass.
“She was in pain before she fell,” Grady explained. “Back injury?”
She stared between them both.
“Effie?” Steele pressed. No one denied him when he used that tone, so Grady just waited for her acquiescence. “Tell us. Right now.”
Instead, she looked to the ceiling. “Why? Why me? What did I do? I’m certain I’ve never done something so bad that I’d end up stuck in an office with two cavemen.”
Grady moved his gaze to Steele.
To Grady’s shock, the other man’s lips twitched. “I can see why you’re calling me a caveman, but Grady? Nope. Not a caveman.”
Effie glared at Steele. “When I tried to leave before, he chased after me, picked me up, and carried me back to his office. Before locking me in it.”
Steele’s gaze hit his, assessing. “Did he, just?”
“She was hurt,” Grady told him. “And she was walking along the road in the cold with no gloves, scarf, or hat.”
“Spitfire, it’s fucking thirty-five degrees out there,” Steele rumbled, looking seriously unimpressed.
“I forgot them.” Sort of.
That blue gaze turned icy. “You forgot them?”
“Ah, yep.”
“It’s not even forty degrees out there. What are you doing going out without your hat, scarf or gloves?
“Did Grady put you up to this?” she asked suspiciously.
“What does that mean?”
“Uh, nothing. Just that he said something similar.”
“Did he?” Steele said thoughtfully. “Well, just don’t do this again.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Is this . . . is this some sort of prank? Like, are you filming for some shitty reality show? Because I can tell you right now, I’m not signing any waivers.”
There was a note of panic and hurt in her voice, which made something in Grady melt. Something that he’d long since thought had turned to solid ice.
“No one is pranking you. I promise. Look at me.” He waited for her dark-brown gaze to move to his. “I promise.”
Her rapid breathing slowed. Grady didn’t like how pale she was. She was still in pain, he could see it in the lines bracketing her mouth.
“Then why do you . . . why do you care whether I’m hurt or whether I’m warm or anything else about me?”
That wasn’t something he had a ready answer for. Not a proper one. So he said the only one he could think of.
“Because you’re going to work for me.”
