He's warm, hot even. Richard is sick, and his eyes are a little glassy, but he seems to be holding his own against it. Richard Strand didn't let illness get to him. There was too much to do to get sick, and for years the only one he had to take care of him was himself.

Reaching up, he took her hand, squeezing it tight for a moment. His hands are warm too, which is probably better than when he felt like he was freezing. "I only recently put everything together. I'll be fine."

He believed that, that he'd be fine and recover. Warren wouldn't want him to die, just make him uncomfortable, maybe make it seem as if he were possibly going to die. Anything to get what he wanted out of him. "That doesn't mean I want you at risk."