“In spite of the fact it was a cold and blustery day, typical of New Zealand’s autumn, sweat was trickling down her torso inside her cream blouse and her palm had felt appallingly slippery on the single, stout wooden rail that had been the only barrier between her and the rock-strewn, sea-green oblivion below. She shuddered faintly as she watched the two men far below, unloading the cargo from the hold of the squat little ferry-boat. Reaction hit and Vivian swallowed, her dry mouth sudde...nly thick with moisture. Her legs felt like jelly and she swayed, fighting the urge to sink weakly to the ground. She pressed a hand to her abdomen, trying to control the unpleasant churning feeling as she turned away and followed the sharply rising, stony path up through the low, scrubby trees. She had to get a grip on herself before she reached her destination. She smoothed down her neat dark green skirt and adjusted the matching blazer as she went, nervously switching the soft-sided leather satchel from one sweaty hand to the other as she tried to calm herself by projecting a mental aura of professionalism.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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