45 A Cold (2/2)

She heaved herself off the well-sprung cushions and shuffled to the bag. She sat back down on the couch with an audible sigh, plugged in the power cord to the wall outlet, and booted up the computer.

While sipping the hot, strong tea, her cell phone went off, and she smiled when she saw who it was.

”How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Should I come over?” Rickie barked the questions out, his concern underlying the bossy tone.

”I'm fine, Rickie. I'm just resting a bit right now. It's just a slight fever, and I'm sure I'll feel better soon.”

Rickie's voice became gentler. ”I don't like you being alone when you're not feeling well. Should I have Sethe keep you company?”

”I'm fine,” Meaghan insisted, ”I'm going to read a little, have some tea, and rest some more.”

A quiet beep showed the computer was ready. ”If I need anything, I will call you. I promise.”

”Are you sure there's nothing I can do that would make you feel better?” Rickie's tone became intimate, and Meaghan squirmed at the image that suddenly popped into her mind; lying on Rickie's chest, hearing his heartbeat against her ear while he stroked her hair.

She took a sip of tea to ease her suddenly-dry throat.

”N…nothing comes to mind,” Meaghan said. A low chuckle greeted this, and Meaghan knew he caught her stammer.

”Call me later, Meggie. I want to know you are still doing okay.” After she promised, he disconnected, and Meaghan fanned her face, feeling hotter than the fever warranted.

Once her unruly heart slowed, she plugged in the thumb drive and began looking over the files, trying to find whatever data Ivoire had tried so desperately to send her.