Listed: Volume V (10 page)

She
sat up with a jerk as she realized what day it was. Then she scrambled out of
bed and hurried barefoot out of the room, down the hall, and into Paul’s office.

He
was there, as she’d expected, sitting in front of his computer and looking
sleek and professional in his black suit and silver tie.

“Hey,”
she said, feeling a pull of emotion in her chest at the sight of him.

He
turned around in his desk chair at the sound of her voice. “Good morning. How
are you feeling?”

“Fine,”
she lied, “How are you?”

The
smile on his face faded as he studied her, and he ignored her question. “You
don’t look like you feel fine. Did the fever come back?”

“No,”
she assured him, walking over to where he was seated. “I’m not sick. I’m just
tired.”

He
reached out for her, and she let him pull her into his lap. She didn’t protest
when he felt her forehead, since it would only prove to him she didn’t have a
fever.

“How
are
you
?” she asked, when he dropped his hand. The way his gray eyes
rested on her face made her feel a little self-conscious, since she’d literally
just rolled out of bed. Her hair was messy, and she wore only a little tank and
boxer shorts.

“I’m
fine,” Paul murmured.

“You
ready for today?”

“Yes.
As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“The
board meeting will go well, I’m sure,” she said, smiling at him encouragingly.
His shoulders were stiff, and she could tell he was stressed about the meeting
today—when he presented his big proposal to the board. “You’ve done a great job
preparing and have covered more bases than most people would even know were on
the field.”

Paul
smiled faintly at her extended analogy, the way he always did when he thought
she’d been clever in her choice of words. “Thank you. I hope so.”

She
reached her arms up to hug him and was touched and relieved when he hugged her
back. His arms tightened around her with more strength than she expected. And
she realized, with a swell of her heart, that he was taking encouragement,
strength from her.

She
knew he was more nervous about the meeting today than he would ever admit.

“I
wish I could go with you,” she said, pulling away. “Even if I couldn’t come to
the meeting itself, I could be there waiting.”

Paul
shook his head. “You need to get your treatment. There’s no reason for you to
waste your time hovering. It’s really no big deal.”

Emily
knew it
was
a big deal, but she didn’t press the point. She was starting
to learn more about how to deal with him. And, when something ran deep with him,
the more she pushed bullheadedly into his privacy, the more he was likely to
shrink away.

“Okay,”
she said casually, pulling away from him and getting to her feet, “I need
coffee and a shower. You’re not going to leave until nine, right?”

“Right.”

Emily
started to walk out of the office, but glanced back once from the doorway. Paul
had turned back toward his computer, and he was busy typing again. For some
reason, for no good reason, he looked young, vulnerable.

She
wondered, with an ache so deep her face twisted helplessly, what he would do
when—if—she died. He would be so incredibly alone.

She
almost choked on the question and hurried away, not wanting him to look back
and see the tears reflected on her face. By the time she got a mug of coffee
and took a shower, she’d controlled the emotion. She managed to dress, put on a
little makeup, and dry her hair, but by the time she was finished, she was
utterly wiped out.

She
didn’t have a fever, but her body hurt anyway. She sat down to put on her
shoes, but couldn’t seem to do it. She hunched over, breathed deeply, tried to
tell herself this was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to give into this.

This
was one of her good days, and she needed to be there for Paul today. He didn’t
need to be worrying about her.

“Emily?” 
Paul’s voice broke into her concentration, surprising her so much she jerked.
He walked over to the bed, his face tight with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,”
she said, smiling at him brightly. “I’m just more tired than I thought.

He
frowned, his eyes deep and observant. “You look like it’s more than feeling
tired. I can reschedule this meeting so—”

“No!”
she interrupted sharply. “I’m really fine. I don’t want you to reschedule. The
meeting is important.”

He
put an arm around her, pulling her against his side. “You’re more important to
me than the meeting.”

She
swallowed hard, wanting to burrow into him. He was strong, and he loved her. It
felt like he could always keep her safe.

But
she wouldn’t let herself indulge the feeling. No matter how sick and weak she
felt, she needed to be strong for him too. “I know,” she said, her voice
cracking a little. “Thank you. But you’re important to
me
. You need to
go to the meeting today and show them how incredible you are, how ready you are
for responsibility. I’m really fine.”

She
didn’t say it—since she knew Paul would object—but she also needed to know that
Paul would have something to pour himself into if she died. He needed his
position at Simone’s to give him purpose, or he would have nothing.

Paul
nodded slowly. “Okay. Send me a text as soon as you’re done with the treatment
and if Dr. Franklin has any results from the blood test, so I’ll know what’s
happening.”

“I
will.” She leaned over to kiss him. “And you come right home after the meeting,
no matter what happens.”

 “I
will.”

*
* *

Despite what he’d asked
her, Emily didn’t send Paul a text message immediately. She didn't until she’d
gotten back to the apartment from the lab.

She
needed the length of the ride home to figure out what to say.

She
didn’t want to give any details, since it might upset Paul and distract him
from what he needed to do and say at the meeting. But she also didn’t want to
lie to him.

So
she finally decided on a brief message: “I’m done. Everything’s fine. About the
same.”

It
was true. According to Dr. Franklin, the treatments hadn’t stopped or
significantly affected the progress of the virus, but it was too soon to tell
very much.

Despite
the doctor’s insistence of putting everything in perspective and not getting
too upset about tiny changes that might mean anything, Emily was a little bit
crushed. She knew Paul would be too.

That
could wait until after his meeting, however.

She
changed into a stretchy t-shirt and dark blue yoga pants. Then she ate some
lunch and went to stretch out on the couch in the media room to read some
Shakespeare.

She
fell asleep almost immediately.

She
wasn’t conscious of anything until she heard a phone ring.

She
blinked as awareness broke painfully into her groggy mind. Her body was still
aching, and she couldn’t seem to open her eyes.

The
ringing had stopped, and a male voice had taken its place. It was familiar
enough to make her go through the effort of opening her eyes.

She
saw Paul sitting on the foot of the sofa, talking softly on the phone. He was
still wearing his black suit and silver tie.

Realizing
he was home and the meeting was over, she fought against the heavy haze of
sleep until she could sit up. She waited as patiently as she could, listening
to one side of his phone conversation. It was about work, but she couldn’t
really follow what it might mean.

When
he hung up, she asked, “Why didn’t you wake me up? How did the meeting go?”

He
frowned at her. “Why didn’t you tell me that Dr. Franklin’s report wasn’t
good?”

“It
was fine. What I said in the text was true—there wasn’t much change.”

“Except
these new treatments aren’t working.”

He
sounded clipped and cool, but she knew it was just because he was as
disappointed as she’d been earlier.

“Dr.
Franklin said that blood chemistry changes daily, hourly, and we can’t get too
hung up on small changes like that.”

“I
know. He told me that too when I called him. But you should have told me to
begin with.”

“I
wasn’t going to have you get upset and distracted during the meeting,” she
said, sticking out her chin. “I should have done exactly what I did.”

He
rolled his eyes, clearly torn between agreement with the sense of her decision
and annoyance that she’d taken it out of his control.

“Are
you going to tell me how the meeting went?” she demanded.

“It
was fine,” he said with a sigh. “It was good.”

“So…”

“They
were really impressed.” His expression had changed as he let go of his
disapproval. He looked almost sheepish now, as if he were a little embarrassed
by admitting he was pleased by something he’d worked so hard to make happen.
“They’re going to give me that project and probably some more
responsibilities.”

She
squealed in excitement, forgetting their little squabble, and threw herself at him
in a hug. He hugged her back, and she could feel some sort of shuddering
excitement in his body.

He
was more pleased by the outcome of the meeting than he would ever say out loud.

“I’m
so proud of you,” she said against his shoulder. “You’re going to be so good at
this.”

His
arms tightened briefly, but he didn’t answer. She didn’t really expect him to.

When
she finally pulled away, Paul was frowning. “Did Dr. Franklin think—”

“Paul,
don’t,” she interrupted, “Please. I don’t want to get all worried and depressed
about the virus today. We don’t know what it means. I’ll go back on Friday.
Let’s wait and see what happens. If it’s worse then, we can get worried. We've
had really good news about
you
. I just can’t…I don’t want to get all
upset about
me
today.”

He
looked at her for a long time in silence. Then his face softened. “All right.”

She
peered at him. “You’re not going to be secretly brooding, are you? I want us to
have a good evening.”

“We’ll
have a good evening,” he said with a smile.

She
realized he was just doing what she was doing—pushing the worry to the back of
his mind so it wouldn’t be a distraction. But it was the best either of them
could manage. And at least they could have an evening of enjoying Paul’s
victory, of enjoying each other.

She
would probably have another fever tomorrow.

“What
do you want to do tonight?” she asked.

His
expression changed palpably, causing her to suck in her breath. “I can think of
at least one thing I’d like to do tonight.”

She
smiled back. Then kind of slid across the couch until she was straddling his
lap. “There’s no reason to wait until tonight for
that
,” she murmured.

She
was still tired and kind of achy. She wasn’t really in the mood for sex. But she
wanted to be close to Paul, and she knew he needed this kind of release.

They
hadn’t had sex since Saturday night, after she’d taunted him into chasing her
in her gorgeous black dress. There was no reason why Paul needed to wait any
longer for what he needed.

“Are
you sure?” he asked, his hands settling on her hips. “I didn’t think you were
feeling very well.”

“I
feel well enough for this.” Then she kissed him.

He
kissed her back, and he got urgent very quickly. It wasn’t long until he was
devouring her mouth and squeezing her bottom, pressing her pelvis against the
tight bulge in his trousers.

She
responded with a deep swell of tenderness. Her body responded too—but much more
slowly than his and much more slowly than normal.

She
didn’t care. Her heart was full, and the emotion was even more potent than a
physical response. Paul needed this, and she could give it to him.

She
wanted to give it to him.

It
wasn’t long before Paul adjusted, laying Emily down on her back on the couch
and moving on top of her. They kept kissing and started to pull off each
other's clothes, and then Paul was sinking inside her.

Emily
still wasn’t very urgent, but she was aroused enough for it to be comfortable.
And she loved the tightness of Paul’s body, his obvious need for her.

She
held him with her arms and her legs as he moved eagerly inside her. She
murmured out silly words of affection and encouragement as he thrust in hard,
fast strokes and grunted in primal sounds that got louder and louder.

She
wasn’t going to come. But she loved it. She loved
him
.

“Baby?”
Paul gasped, rearing up with what was obviously the last of his control. He was
sweating, and his features were twisted with effort.