Page 67 of Deceptive Lies

“Cooper, stop,” she said as insistently as she could manage through the blaring headache that had taken up residence between her temples and the dizziness that made her feel like she was still moving even as she registered Cooper had stopped.

“What's wrong?” he asked, panicked, as he crouched down and laid her out in the sand.

It felt much too hot against her already overheated skin, and it was hard not to get sidetracked thinking about how wonderful it would be to sink into a nice cool bath and be surrounded by cold rather than hot.

Heaven.

That’s what it would be, but it wasn't something she should be focused on right now.

Not when Cooper needed her.

This might be her last chance to have a cognizant conversation with him. Already it was getting harder and harder to focus, and she didn't know how long she had left, she just knew the end was coming faster than either of them wanted.

“Honey?” Cooper’s hand brushed over her forehead, lingering a little before sweeping around to cradle the back of her head in his palm. “Damn, honey, you're so hot.”

Helpless frustration was radiating off him in waves, and Willow felt a swell of grief inside her. They could have built something wonderful between them, she was sure of it. Given a chance, they could have fallen in love and lived a long and happy life together.

Instead, they were both likely going to die in the middle of the Egyptian desert.

Shock stole her breath for a moment when she tried to lift her hand to caress Cooper’s stubbled jaw only to find that she didn't have the strength for even thatsimple task.

“What's wrong?” Cooper immediately demanded, picking up on her distress.

“I can't … lift my hand … I'm so weak …” she murmured, finding she barely had the strength to talk let alone move.

She was deteriorating even quicker than she had realized.

How much longer did she have left?

It was still hours until sunset, and even then, the temperature wouldn’t drop low enough to be cold. If they were lucky, they might hit the high sixties, which would certainly be a whole lot nicer than now, but it wouldn't be enough to undo the damage the sun had caused.

Tortured gray eyes stared down at her, so tumultuous, so stormy that if she’d had any tears left in her, they would have cascaded down her cheeks.

“I’ll keep carrying you, honey, all you have to do is focus on breathing and staying with me.”

That was the problem.

Cooper was pushing himself so hard to compensate for her lack of strength that he was going to push himself into an earlier grave. He had to pull back a little and prioritize his body’s needs. Willow didn't want to take her last breath knowing that Cooper was going to quickly follow her into death.

“No,” she insisted as firmly as she could manage.

“No what?”

“No more carrying me. You need to rest. Tonight, when it’s dark, you’ll be able to walk faster then, use up less of your body’s dwindling reserves of water,” she explained. This next part was a lie, but she said it anyway. “Maybe I’ll be able to walk better when the air isn’t so hot.”

In truth, there was no way she was going to be able to walk more than a handful more steps before her body was officially done.

Any steps she did manage to force her body to take would be slow and unsteady. The cramps were bad, they equaled the throbbing in her head, and the only thing that was worse was her body’s pleas for water.

Pleas she couldn’t satisfy because she had no water to drink.

Part of her wished that she’d just died in the crash. At least it would have been done and over with. This was like prolonging the whole thing and the ending was still going to be the same.

She wished she could make Cooper understand that.

Her fate was already sealed. Unless a magical oasis suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and she was able to guzzle down as much water as she wanted then bathe in it and cool her body down, she wasn't going to live.

This wasn't her giving up, it was simply accepting reality.

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