Free Chain Lightning by Elizabeth Lowell Page B

had thought was sweat was actually a slow rain of tears. Gently he stroked her white, cold cheek.
    “Mandy, you can come back now. It’s all over. You’re safe.“
    He repeated the words many times, touching her very carefully, telling her that she was safe. After a few moments she shuddered once, violently, like a swimmer struggling up from the black depths to the surface of the sea. Slowly her eyes focused on Sutter.
    “That’s it, golden eyes. Look around. You’re safe,“ he murmured, smoothing the back of his fingers down her cold cheek once again. “Ready to get out now?“
    Mandy fumbled at the fastening of her seat belt, but her hands were shaking too hard to accomplish anything. Sutter took care of the buckle with a swift motion, then eased her from the seat, taking most of her weight when her legs proved to be as uncertain as her hands had been.
    “Lean against the frame while I get out, okay?“
    Before Mandy managed to nod, Sutter had slipped out and was turning to lift her onto the blindingly white coral runway. Carefully he set her on her feet.
    “Can you walk?“ he asked.
    He watched her lips form the word yes, but before she could speak she crumpled. He caught her, lifted her into his arms and began to walk toward a small building that was all but hidden by she-oak trees.
    Ray, who had been unloading the plane’s small baggage compartment, saw Mandy faint. He sprinted forward.
    “What happened?“ he demanded.
    “Jet lag,“ Sutter said laconically. “Which tent is ours?“
    “This way. Need a hand?“
    The idea of turning Mandy’s limp form over to anyone else was frankly distasteful. Sutter shook his head in curt refusal. Then, realizing how rude the gesture had been, Sutter added in his best Australian accent, “No worries, mate. She’s not that big.“
    Ray hesitated, smiled slightly and led Sutter at a brisk pace along a crushed coral pathway. As he walked, Sutter shifted Mandy until her head was supported by his chest. He kept her tucked in close, dividing his attention between the path and her white face. The slow, even movement of her breast against his left hand told him that she was breathing well, despite her pallor. He hurried between tents and a few spartan cabins, barely noting the dive gear propped everywhere. There were curious glances from a few well-bronzed, husky young men lounging in front of one tent, cans of Fosters Lager firmly in hand. A wave-off from Ray told the men that things were under control.
    “In you go,“ Ray said, pulling aside a ragged tent flap.
    Two single mattresses rested on the tent floor, one to each side. The clean white sheets, neatly folded white blankets and oversize white towels looked rather incongruous against the worn canvas.
    “Usually there are double bunks,“ Ray explained hastily, “but they’re all taken. This tent wasn’t rented because it was a spare that needed mending. Wind can blow bloody hard here. We got the worst rips repaired, but – “
    “It’s fine,“ Sutter interrupted, laying Mandy on one of the mattresses and propping her feet instead of her head on the pillow. “I’m still surprised you fit us in on such short notice. Anthea must have moved heaven and earth.“
    Ray grinned. “Don’t know about heaven, but there was a hell of a to-do here until we found a place to put you.“
    He knelt beside Sutter and looked at Mandy’s pale, delicate face. “You sure she’s all right?“
    Sutter held his fingers against the pulse in Mandy’s throat. The flow of blood was steady, even and reassuring. There was nothing to suggest that anything more than exhaustion and fear was at work on her body. Color began coming back into her face even as he watched.
    “She’s coming around right now.“
    “Water is in the thermos by your bed. I’ll go out and tell the blokes what’s what – unless you need me?“
    Sutter shook his head, never lifting his intent green gaze from Mandy as he stroked her smooth cheek. Long, dense