insistently, informing her that embarrassment was no reason to starve to death. People never died of humiliation – they just wished they had. Lack of food, however, could definitely be lethal.
Too bad starving takes so long, Mandy thought wryly. No matter how much my stomach growls, I’ll still be alive and kicking wretchedly when Sutter comes back here to sleep.
The thought of Sutter sleeping within reach of her mattress made Mandy’s stomach do an odd little flip. How would she manage it in the small tent? How would she be able to fall asleep listening to him breathe? How would she undress without bumping into him?
As a matter of fact, how had she managed to undress last night?
No matter how hard Mandy tried, she couldn’t remember anything after an angry, disgusted Sutter had left her and strode off to who knows where. She had fallen asleep within moments, and she had been fully clothed at the time. She was sure of it. She couldn’t remember awakening to undress herself, either. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember awakening at all except for this morning.
If it was morning.
Mandy went over every instant that she remembered since being manhandled into the tiny plane. Gradually she was forced to acknowledge that Sutter must have undressed her after she had fallen asleep. The evidence of it was everywhere. Skirt and blouse set aside haphazardly, panty hose in a tangle on the floor, shoes kicked down to the end of the mattress. She wasn’t the most tidy creature on earth, but she wasn’t in the habit of shedding clothes at random and leaving them where they dropped.
With a sinking feeling Mandy looked down at the two bands of blue lace that were all that stood between her and complete nakedness. Staunchly she told herself there was no reason to be embarrassed; women all over the world went swimming in public with suits that covered less flesh than her underwear. Besides, it wasn’t as though Sutter would have taken any pleasure in undressing her. His contempt for her couldn’t have been clearer.
Locked up in a tent for three weeks with an amateur comedian who’s afraid of her own shadow. And then, even worse, With luck, you’ll be safe in your little burrow at home before the last of the pills wear off.
Her mouth turned down in a wry curve as she acknowledged the aptness of Sutter’s description; she was a silly little rabbit afraid of its own shadow. It had been two years since the accident, yet all she could do was take shallow baths and fly on 747s. Well, not quite all. The second plane she had flown on had been about a quarter the size of the big jumbo jets, and she hadn’t disgraced herself on that one. She hadn’t panicked or screamed or wept or thrown up, and she had been fully capable of walking off the plane under her own power at the end of the flight.
When you got right down to it, she hadn’t disgraced herself on the little plane, either; at least, not right away. She had shut down rather than come apart in hysterics, and if the effort of keeping herself together had exhausted her so much that she had fainted at Sutter’s feet at the end of the flight, well, that could be endured. The bottom line was that she had flown in a small plane.
And she had survived it.
Mandy’s breath came out in a long sigh. Despite all the fears and humiliations she had endured since she had left California on her totally unexpected vacation, she felt more at peace with herself than she had since the instant she had walked into a tent halfway around the world and had seen her husband topping off a sand bunny.
Smiling wryly, Mandy reached for the garish backpack, hoping Anthea had managed to pack some cool clothing for her most recent project. The first handful Mandy pulled out was promising – underwear of an extraordinary silky lace. Black, deep rose, cream, the underwear was as thin as a whisper and twice as soft. The second handful yielded two pairs of khaki shorts and several pairs of
Too bad starving takes so long, Mandy thought wryly. No matter how much my stomach growls, I’ll still be alive and kicking wretchedly when Sutter comes back here to sleep.
The thought of Sutter sleeping within reach of her mattress made Mandy’s stomach do an odd little flip. How would she manage it in the small tent? How would she be able to fall asleep listening to him breathe? How would she undress without bumping into him?
As a matter of fact, how had she managed to undress last night?
No matter how hard Mandy tried, she couldn’t remember anything after an angry, disgusted Sutter had left her and strode off to who knows where. She had fallen asleep within moments, and she had been fully clothed at the time. She was sure of it. She couldn’t remember awakening to undress herself, either. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember awakening at all except for this morning.
If it was morning.
Mandy went over every instant that she remembered since being manhandled into the tiny plane. Gradually she was forced to acknowledge that Sutter must have undressed her after she had fallen asleep. The evidence of it was everywhere. Skirt and blouse set aside haphazardly, panty hose in a tangle on the floor, shoes kicked down to the end of the mattress. She wasn’t the most tidy creature on earth, but she wasn’t in the habit of shedding clothes at random and leaving them where they dropped.
With a sinking feeling Mandy looked down at the two bands of blue lace that were all that stood between her and complete nakedness. Staunchly she told herself there was no reason to be embarrassed; women all over the world went swimming in public with suits that covered less flesh than her underwear. Besides, it wasn’t as though Sutter would have taken any pleasure in undressing her. His contempt for her couldn’t have been clearer.
Locked up in a tent for three weeks with an amateur comedian who’s afraid of her own shadow. And then, even worse, With luck, you’ll be safe in your little burrow at home before the last of the pills wear off.
Her mouth turned down in a wry curve as she acknowledged the aptness of Sutter’s description; she was a silly little rabbit afraid of its own shadow. It had been two years since the accident, yet all she could do was take shallow baths and fly on 747s. Well, not quite all. The second plane she had flown on had been about a quarter the size of the big jumbo jets, and she hadn’t disgraced herself on that one. She hadn’t panicked or screamed or wept or thrown up, and she had been fully capable of walking off the plane under her own power at the end of the flight.
When you got right down to it, she hadn’t disgraced herself on the little plane, either; at least, not right away. She had shut down rather than come apart in hysterics, and if the effort of keeping herself together had exhausted her so much that she had fainted at Sutter’s feet at the end of the flight, well, that could be endured. The bottom line was that she had flown in a small plane.
And she had survived it.
Mandy’s breath came out in a long sigh. Despite all the fears and humiliations she had endured since she had left California on her totally unexpected vacation, she felt more at peace with herself than she had since the instant she had walked into a tent halfway around the world and had seen her husband topping off a sand bunny.
Smiling wryly, Mandy reached for the garish backpack, hoping Anthea had managed to pack some cool clothing for her most recent project. The first handful Mandy pulled out was promising – underwear of an extraordinary silky lace. Black, deep rose, cream, the underwear was as thin as a whisper and twice as soft. The second handful yielded two pairs of khaki shorts and several pairs of
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