Listed: Volume IV by Noelle Adams

went out to lunch at a quiet French bistro. The food was good, but
their conversation was scattered, as both of them tried not to dwell on the
faint hope of Martin’s team coming up with something from the data they’d retrieved.
    Emily
asked how he’d found Martin’s name to begin with. Then she asked what volcano
he thought she should climb.
    Paul
didn’t even want to think about the remaining items on her list. It seemed to
imply she was going to die, and he refused to let himself believe that
possibility. It wasn’t fair to not keep his word and help her get through her
list, though, so he suggested they go to Hawaii, which wouldn’t be a hard trip and
which had many impressive volcanoes that weren’t too difficult to climb.
    Emily
seemed pleased with this idea, and then she fell into a meditative silence.
    When
they got up to leave, she said she needed to use the restroom, so Paul waited
outside the ladies room until she came out.
    He
straightened up in concern when she emerged. She looked paler than she had
earlier, and her eyes looked a little pained. Her hair was damp around the
hairline, as if she’d thrown water on her face.
    “Paul,”
she began, walking over to him slowly.
    “Are
you okay?”
    “Do
I have a fever?” When she reached him, she raised her hands to grip his shirt, like
she felt unsteady on her feet.
    He
reached over to feel her forehead, and his heart sank as he sensed how hot her
skin was. “I think you do.”
    “Damn.
Not so soon.”
    “Let
me get you home,” he said, supporting her with one arm and guiding her down the
hall and out of the restaurant. Her body was swelteringly hot against him, and
he tried to brace himself for at least two agonizing days of watching her
suffer.
    The
restaurant host turned to give him a friendly farewell as they approached, but
his face transformed with worry when his eyes took in Emily’s drooping figure.
    “Is
everything all right, Mr. Marino?” he asked in concern.
    “Can
you call my car, as quickly as possible?” Paul asked, relieved that he hadn’t
driven himself, so they wouldn’t have to wait for a valet to get the car from a
garage.
    The
host wasted no time in doing this. In the minute or two it took for the driver
to pull the car to the curb in front of the restaurant, Emily seemed to
completely wilt. He’d never seen one of her fevers come on her so quickly. She
leaned her weight fully against his chest, clutching at him desperately,
getting hotter and hotter as the moments passed.
    Then
her knees just buckled, and she would have collapsed to the floor had his arms
not been around her. Instinctively, Paul adjusted his hold on her body and
swung her up in his arms.
    “Paul,
no,” she mumbled weakly, hiding her face in his shoulder. “I can walk.”
    “No,
I don’t think you can.” He ached—all over—as he cradled her against him and
carried her out to the sidewalk, where the car was pulling up.
    She
was small but not a waif, and she felt real and substantial in arms—hot and
weak and shaking and sick and his .
    He
refused his anxious driver’s attempt to take Emily from his arms and instead
carefully maneuvered her into the backseat himself. She fell to her side,
unable to sit up, and curled herself up into a ball.
    Paul
swallowed hard, fighting growing panic at seeing how quickly she’d declined in
this bout of fever. He gave curt instructions to his driver and accepted with
thanks the cold, wet washcloth and bottles of cold water the restaurant host
had hurriedly gotten for them. Then Paul got into the car quickly, climbing
over Emily so he could sit on the opposite side of the seat beside her.
    As
the driver took them home, he wiped her feverish face and helped her lift her
head from his lap to take an occasional sip of water. He also called Amy, who
said she’d be over to the apartment in less than an hour.
    They
were almost home when Emily whispered brokenly, as she writhed with what looked
like pain, “Paul, I’m