Read Online Listed: Volume I by Noelle Adams - Free Book Online Page B

turned to an administrative assistant from the law
firm and asked, “Is there somewhere comfortable she can rest?”
    Emily
almost sputtered in indignation at such high-handed behavior, but her head
throbbed too much for her to form a coherent argument. Somehow, without her
conscious agreement or volition, she was shuffled into a small lounge that was
obviously used for clients of the prestigious firm, since it had a bookshelf
full of novels, a stack of current magazines, a television and DVD player, and
several plush couches and easy chairs.
    Paul
closed the door behind him, shutting out the hovering administrative assistant.
He scanned her face closely and reached out to put his hand on her forehead.
    She
jerked away from him, regretting the move immediately since it hurt her head so
much she almost gagged. “I don’t have a fever,” she managed to snap, “Stop
fussing.”
    She
hated feeling weak and helpless, and she hated having Paul treat her like an
invalid. She might have an incurable virus, but she was still an intelligent,
capable person who was equipped to decide the shape of her life. However long
that life lasted.
    “It
doesn’t feel like you have a fever,” Paul agreed, sounding just faintly
impatient, his gray eyes searching her face. “So what’s wrong with you?”
    “Nothing.
I have a headache. It’s no big deal. I want to just get this deposition over with,
and I don’t appreciate you ignoring my wishes.”
    “You
needed a break.” When she started to argue, he went on, “Going on when you
obviously feel so sick is counterproductive. You need to be clear and coherent
if your testimony is going to be convincing.”
    He
was right, and she resented him for it.
    She
didn’t resent him for prioritizing his father’s trial over her. She wasn’t a
fool, and she knew what was most important to him. He had been incredibly
generous with her, and she appreciated it, but she knew he’d not done it out of
any tender regard. He liked her well enough. He felt sorry for her, and she was
sure he didn’t want to see her suffer.
    But
if it came down to a choice between pleasing her and ensuring a successful
conviction against his father, he would always choose the conviction. She
didn't blame him for that.
    She
did, however, resent him for treating her like a child, like she was too sick
to make a good decision. And for throwing logic in her face when she’d worked up
some perfectly good righteous indignation.
    She
tried to think of an objection, but she started to feel dizzy so she went to sit
in the corner of a big sofa instead.
    Evidently
assuming she’d accepted this break, Paul asked, “Do you need anything? Aspirin?
Something to eat? More coffee?”
    She
almost shuddered at the thought of food or coffee. “I took some aspirin
earlier. Just some water, thanks.”
    Then
she was left in blessed silence when he left the lounge.
    She
leaned against the back of the sofa and closed her eyes. It didn’t seem fair.
She only had a limited number of days left to be alive, and she had to spend
one of them with this horrible headache.
    In
just a minute, she heard someone enter the room, and when she opened her eyes
she saw Paul reenter with an expensive bottle of sparkling water in one hand
and an old-fashioned glass bottle of Coke in the other.
    She
hadn’t had regular Coke in a glass bottle in years, and she reached for it
instinctively. He’d already popped the top, so she took a sip, the sweet,
bubbly liquid a balm in her mouth and throat after the hot coffee she’d been
drinking all morning. She took a shaky breath and then another sip.
    Without
speaking, Paul had set the water down on a side table and then walked over to
shut the blinds on the glass wall that looked out onto the expansive common
area of the office suite. He then leaned over to turn on a small lamp in one
corner of the room before turning off the overhead lights.
    The
room was left in dim shadows, lit only by the small lamp in the