Chain Lightning (14 page)

There was silence and more intense scrutiny from Sutter’s clear green eyes as he tried to understand Mandy. His mother had had many irrational fears but had never made any attempt to confront them. After his father had died in a drunken race through the Alps, his mother had retreated first to the country house, then to a single wing of the house, then to her room, to her bed, until all that was left was Valium. She had crawled into the pills, going away for weeks at a time. One day she hadn’t come back.

His former wife had been afraid in a different way. She had been afraid of being alone. That fear had ruled her life and nearly ruined his. He had tried to adjust to always being in the center of a party or an outing. She had never tried to adjust to being with silence. Finally he had taken one trip too many for OCC and had come back to find that his wife was in Mexico, obtaining the fastest divorce available. She had remarried before she came back to the U.S. and had become a hostess known for the number and variety of her parties – and sycophants. Like his mother, his former wife had succumbed to fear rather than trying to overcome it.

But Mandy was fighting. If what had happened on the plane was any example, she was fighting with the kind of guts and sheer determination that he couldn’t help but respond to. He, too, had known debilitating fear. He, too, had had to reach down deep in himself to go on despite fear, because there were things that simply had to be done no matter what the obstacles.

“You’re tired of being afraid,“ Sutter said finally, softly.

Golden eyes widened in surprise as Mandy realized that what Sutter had said was the exact truth. She was very tired of being imprisoned within her own fears, cut off from the elemental mystery and beauty of the sea, cut off from the career she had loved, cut off from…herself.

“Yes,“ she whispered. “I am very, very tired of being afraid.“

“And you risked wading across that pond for a child when you wouldn’t risk it on your own behalf.“

“Children are given to us to protect,“ Mandy said simply, “not to pay the price of our failures.“

Sutter felt an instant of emotion so strong that it was nearly painful. Never had anyone put into words so clearly the reason he kept working for a better future despite the odds against success. He looked at Mandy as though she were a rare, perfect shell he had found unexpectedly, a gift from the sea.

Then he realized that it was sorrow as much as fear that haunted Mandy’s golden eyes. He didn’t know what had caused her sadness; he only knew that he wanted to ease it, to cherish her, telling her wordlessly that he would help her if he could, if she would allow him.

Sutter bent down to Mandy slowly, watching her eyes widen, feeling the warmth of her breath sigh over his mouth. The tip of his tongue slowly caressed the cut on her lip, drawing a small sound of surprise and pleasure from her. He very much wanted to deepen the kiss, to slide his hungry tongue into the heat and softness he knew waited within her mouth, but he heard the sound of the Townehome kids running back up the beach. He allowed himself one more light, gliding touch on her cut lip before he slowly released her.

“Thought you said he wasn’t your bloke,“ Clint said slyly, watching Mandy’s blush with great interest.

“Old American custom,“ Sutter said, hoping the child wouldn’t understand the meaning of his suddenly husky voice. “It’s called kissing a small hurt to make it better. Mandy cut her lip.“

“Whatever you say, mate,“ Clint retorted dryly. He flopped down next to Mandy and opened his empty hands. “Couldn’t find a ruddy thing.“

Di stood nearby, her expression disconsolate.

“Di? Is something wrong, honey?“ Mandy asked, wondering what had made the little girl so unhappy.

“Will you see us off tomorrow?“ Di blurted out.

The last thing Mandy wanted to do was to get anywhere near the ghastly little plane that made twice-daily trips to the island. In fact, she usually made it a point to be in her tent when the plane appeared or disappeared. But Di was watching her so hopefully, her eyes clouded with the un-happiness of having to leave her new friend.

“Of course I’ll see you off,“ Mandy said, forcing a smile.

“We both will,“ amended Sutter.

“Won’t you be diving?“ Mandy asked.

“Doubt it Wind is forecast. I’ve been meaning to try my hand at a reef walk anyway. Will you give me a guided tour?“

Mandy started to refuse, hesitated, then said, “I’ll do as much as I can.“

Sutter brushed her cut lip with the pad of his thumb and lowered his hands, releasing her. “That’s all anyone can ask, isn’t it?“

Sutter’s understanding and his kiss haunted Mandy for the rest of the day. She hadn’t suspected that he was capable of such aching tenderness. The thought of being held and caressed and made love to with even a fraction of that gentle masculine care sent odd sensations glittering through the secret places of her body. She found herself watching every motion Sutter made, every breath he took, the sheen of light on his spun-gold hair and the satin allure of his skin stretched over hard muscle; and most of all she was caught by the obvious strength of his male body and the careful restraint of that strength while he played with the two children.

After dinner a strange restlessness claimed Mandy. She told herself it was the rising wind and the falling barometer, but she knew it was as simple and complex as Sutter’s green eyes watching her watch him. When the divers adjourned to the bar for beer and tall tales, Mandy slipped outside, driven by a need to walk far and fast…for if she stayed, she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from running her fingertip along Sutter’s full lower lip, returning the caress he had given to her earlier that day.

Mandy walked to the end of the tiny island. Along one fifty-yard stretch of beach, the limestone understructure of the island pushed through the veneer of sand. Not even the hardy she-oaks grew there. A stone shelf sloped down to the lagoon. When the tide was out, there were pockets of sand here and there, long, pale ribbons filling troughs that currents had worn into the limestone. Mandy had discovered the previous day that the sand made a cushion to sit on and the water-smoothed, sun-warmed, slanting limestone shelf provided a comfortable backrest. But tonight the tide had already passed its lowest ebb and was well launched into its return. Soon the comfortable portions of the limestone shelf would be covered by water lapping over rock still warm from the sun.

Besides, Mandy was too restless to sit still. She walked on until she rounded the end of the island and headed back up the far side where waves beat in sunset-tinged ranks against Lady Elliot Island, the first obstacle the ocean had known in thousands upon thousands of watery miles. The wind blew steadily, making the eighty degrees of heat and equal percentage of humidity feel silky rather than suffocating, giving the brilliant carmine sky a cool polish.

Very swiftly light vanished into the velvet darkness of tropic night. Mandy made a complete circuit of the island, walking by the few small resort buildings without pausing. She needed no more illumination for her walk than that offered by the cloud-veiled moon and white coral sands. She encountered no one on her second circuit of the island; though the island was barely a mile long and a half mile wide, there were too few people around for there to be any danger of tripping over each other after dark.

The tent was deserted by the time Mandy had finally walked off the worst of her restlessness. She fell asleep quickly, only to dream of being caressed by a tender warmth that was both Sutter and the sea.

When dawn came, Mandy awoke in a rush. Just enough light filled the tent for her to see that Sutter was asleep on his back, one arm flung over his head, the other trailing onto the gritty canvas floor. The sheet had been kicked aside by his long, powerful legs. His nearly nude body looked like a pagan sculpture, overwhelmingly male, each masculine line heightened by shadow and caressed by ruby light. The aura of barely leashed potency was emphasized by the stark white of the minimal jockstrap that stretched to contain him. Dark gold hair grew thickly across his chest, narrowed into a line down the center of his body and then fanned outward again, curling out from beneath the cloth pouch.

Sensations streaked through Mandy like hot rain as she watched Sutter. When she could bear it no more she rolled over and faced the tent wall, which glowed redly with the caress of the rising sun. Yet it was the image of Sutter’s relaxed, beautifully male body that she saw. Certain she wouldn’t sleep, she began to count the random places where light leaked through the canvas weave.

When Mandy awoke again she was alone in the tent. Though Sutter’s mattress was empty, she couldn’t look over there without seeing him as she had at dawn, fully aroused, fully male. Hands shaky, arms oddly weak, she changed into her island uniform – bikini and sandals. She grabbed her towel and knapsack and went to the shower. Half an hour later she emerged much cleaner and as restive as the tropic wind.

No sooner had she eaten breakfast than she heard the savage mechanical cry of the white plane swooping down for a landing. Memories surged up violently, threatening to immobilize her. She replaced them with the image of Sutter at dawn. After a few minutes she was able to climb down the cafeteria steps and walk toward the runway she had avoided since her first day on Lady Elliot Island. By the time she walked past the dive shed toward the runway, the plane had turned off the crushed coral strip and was taxiing toward the shed. Engine noise hammered rhythmically through the thick air.

Mandy slowed as memories rose like a cold, midnight sea, threatening to overwhelm her. Suddenly she felt a man’s hand close around one of hers, lacing their fingers together securely.

“Ready?“ Sutter asked.

Mandy’s fingers tightened within his. She let out her breath slowly and nodded. Sutter squeezed her hand in return. Unconsciously she waited for him to gently prod her closer to the source of her fear. Nothing happened. Startled, she looked up into Sutter’s calm green eyes. He smiled encouragingly but made no move forward. She realized that she would have to take the lead, confronting the plane by her own choice and in her own way. Sutter would neither force nor persuade her; he was simply there if she needed him. Her throat ached with sudden emotion.

“You understand,“ she whispered.

“What it is to fight fear?“

She nodded.

Sutter’s lips curved in something that was too sad to pass for a smile. “Does that surprise you?“

“Yes.“

“Everyone is afraid of something, golden eyes. The only difference is that some people fight and others go under without a struggle.“

“What fear do you fight?“

“I’m afraid of being chained and beaten again,“ he said matter-of-factly, “of being helpless.“

Mandy’s breath came in with a harsh sound. She lifted Sutter’s hand and smoothed it against her cheek, then pressed a kiss into his hard palm.

“Hey,“ he said, tilting her face up to his. “I didn’t mean for you to feel sorry for me. Being beaten like that taught me fear. Up to a point, fear is a very healthy thing. It has saved my life more than once. I just have to make sure that fear doesn’t
rule
my life.“

Mandy couldn’t speak. She simply watched Sutter with wide amber eyes, aching for all that he had suffered, not knowing why his past pain should matter so deeply to her, but knowing that it did.

“Damon,“ she whispered, “I…“

The sound of high, childish laughter drew closer as the Townehome kids raced each other to the plane. Slowly Mandy released Sutter’s hand but was unable to keep herself from skimming one more kiss across his fingers before she turned toward Di and Clint and held out her arms. Instants later she was buried in exuberant hugs. Both children began talking at once, issuing explicit instructions for the continued construction of the coral castle. Finally the parents boosted their offspring into the plane, shaking hands all around and thanking Mandy for the extra dive time her baby-sitting had permitted.

Suddenly the engine of the plane ripped up the scale of sound as the pilot pulled back on the throttle. Instinctively Mandy reached for Sutter’s hand. An instant later his fingers were interlaced with hers. He said nothing despite the painful tightness of her grip. The plane taxied down to the end of the runway, then accelerated hard up the crushed coral strip. The little aircraft leaped into the sky well short of the half of the runway that had been preempted by nesting terns. When the plane circled, gained altitude and vanished in the direction of the mainland, Mandy let out a long breath of relief.

“Have you always been afraid of flying?“ Sutter asked casually as they turned away from the strip.

“I’ve never liked small planes,“ Mandy said in a flat tone.

Sutter sensed that Mandy’s answer was only half the truth, and probably the less important half at that. He said nothing, however. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to talk about her fear; he hadn’t talked about his brutal experience in a South American jail since he had been debriefed at the American embassy after he had been freed. Even Anthea had been rather curtly told to satisfy her curiosity through the embassy report. In truth, Sutter was rather surprised that he had brought it up to Mandy. She hardly had the experience to comprehend what it meant to be beaten until you were held upright only by the same chains that had rendered you utterly helpless in the first place.

Yet Mandy had not only understood, she hadn’t pitied him. She had been appalled that he had had to endure such an experience, but she hadn’t made the mistake of trying to mother him as several of the women at the embassy had. Mandy had given him compassion, not pity. Empathy, not sympathy. She had offered no easy words because she had known there was nothing she could say to alleviate the brutality of his experience. There was no magic motherly act that would make it all better. He hadn’t been a boy when he had been chained and beaten. He had been a man and he had suffered as a man, and no amount of mothering could change that. Mandy knew that and respected it.

“Thank you,“ Sutter said quietly.

Startled, Mandy looked up, only to be held captive by his clear green eyes.

“Some of the women at the embassy tried to mother me after I was freed,’’ Sutter explained. * ‘They meant well, I suppose, but they had the effect of reducing everything to the level of skinned knees on the rugby field. I was ‘poor Damon’ and ‘dearie this’ and ‘sweetums that’ until I blew up and told the women if they wanted to mother something so damned bad, there were thousands of orphans out in the streets who would benefit from it a hell of a lot more than I would.“ Sutter smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid I really put a high gloss on my reputation as an evil-tempered S.O.B. It was worth it, though. The women finally figured out that I wasn’t a boy to be cuddled and petted and coaxed into giving mummy a tearful smile.“

Mandy’s own answering smile was almost sad. “Don’t be too hard on them, Sutter. They were just trying to make a place for you in their world, a nice place where nothing happens that can’t be cured by a mother’s kiss and a red lollipop.“

Sutter grunted. “I’m not a boy and I don’t want to be one.” “A lot of men don’t feel that way.“

“Good. There are a lot of would-be mothers out there waiting to take the poor little dears to their maternal bosoms,“ Sutter retorted. “Why the hell women like that don’t just have kids of their own…“ He shrugged.

“Oh, sometimes they do. It’s usually a disaster. The ‘boy’ they’re married to has to grow up and share mummy with a squalling, helpless stranger who has first call on mummy’s time and attention. How many boys do you know who like sharing the limelight?“

Sutter’s teeth flashed in a sardonic smile. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.“ His smile gentled as he looked down at Mandy. “I’m glad you save your motherly instincts for kids like the Townehomes. You performed a small miracle with them, by the way. Both parents told me that Clint is a real handful.“

“No disagreement here,“ Mandy said wryly. “He’s also very, very bright So is Di. When you get their attention, it’s like being the focus of searchlights. Do the Townehomes know that both kids have taught themselves to read?“

“I made sure to pass on that tidbit, along with your suggestion about turning Clint loose in a library.“

“Thanks. I was never with either parent long enough to find the right moment for telling them. For you, that was no problem.“

“Are you hinting that I’m blunt?“

Mandy had only meant that Sutter had spent more time with the older Townehomes than she had. On the other hand, it was true that Sutter could be breathtakingly outspoken at times.

“How do you define blunt?“ she asked blandly. “Is a baseball bat blunt? Is a torpedo blunt? Is a fifty-megaton – “

“That did it,“ Sutter interrupted, his threatening tone belied by the humorous line of his mouth. He grabbed Mandy’s bare shoulders and shook her very gently. “I always knew your smart mouth would get you into trouble someday. Well, golden eyes, this is the day.“

“I’m terrified. I take it all back. Sutter, you’re the very soul of subtlety,“ Mandy said dramatically, putting a hand over her heart to show her earnestness.

“Convince me,“ he murmured, flexing his fingers, enjoying the sleek feminine resilience of her flesh.

“No one,“ she said instantly, “and I mean no one, has ever curled his eyebrow, lip and index finger at me with such incredible arroga – er, deftness as you did at the auction. Finesse, even. Yes, finesse. It was a stellar display of fine coordination,“ she said, struggling not to smile.

“My lip, too?“

“Your lip most definitely!“ she shot back.

Sutter laughed and wondered why he had been avoiding Mandy for the past week. The answer came in an unwelcome avalanche of common sense.

Because she feels too damn good between my hands, that’s why! Because she isn’t into casual love affairs and I don’t want anything more, that’s why I Because awake or asleep I dream about what it would be like to slide into her and watch those beautiful golden eyes get smoky with passion. Because right now 1 want to cherish her in a very special way, with my words and my hands and my mouth, with my body, all of it, so deep that neither one of us will ever be the same again, always joined no matter how far apart….