The Unlikely Wife by Cassandra Austin Page A

Clark’s tent ahead. He had hung the mirror on a tent post and stood before it mixing soap in a cup. His back was to her, but she easily recognized the breadth of his bare shoulders and the dark hair curling to the base of his neck.
    Rebecca eased forward slowly, ignoring a soldier’sapology when he brushed against her as she passed a tent. She was going to do it again. She was going to watch Clark shave. Her stomach shivered with anticipation.
    He adjusted the mirror, and she caught the glimpse of his eyes before he turned around. She stood-stock still for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might catch her.
    Smiling, she tried to pull herself together. “I didn’t want to disturb you,” she said.
    “That’s quite all right. What can I do for you, Rebecca?”
    There was the barest pause before he said her name. He set the cup aside and reached for his uniform blouse. Rebecca came forward trying not to look at the broad chest that was quickly disappearing beneath the shirt.
    “I need to talk to you,” she said.
    “Of course. Can I get you a chair?”
    “No thanks,” she said. “This will only take a moment.”
    She hoped she was right. She was feeling a need to escape before she gave in to the temptation to test the texture of a day’s worth of stubble on his cheek. This was the first time a decision to end a flirtation had resulted in the man in question becoming more attractive. Before, the man’s flaws had become more apparent In Clark’s case even his military bearingwhich had seemed alternately irritating and humorous now seemed endearing.
    “Ma’am?”
    Rebecca blinked. Lord, she’d been staring. For a second she forgot what she had come to say.
    He spoke again. “I hope I didn’t worry you and the other ladies with my message last night. I merely wanted to take every precaution for your safety.”
    “Message?” The only message she remembered was the one canceling their chess game. Then she recalled his warning to stay in camp. “No.” She shook her head, hoping to clear it. She had to get this over with. “It’s about my cousin. And our driver.”
    One eyebrow shot up, and she felt herself start to smile. “Yes, it’s Alicia this time instead of me.”
    “What has happened?”
    His expression was back to its usual unreadable calm. He could be sympathizing or condemning; she had no way of knowing. She told herself it didn’t matter. “Would it be possible to assign us another driver?”
    “Of course. But I need to know why.”
    “He and Alicia have become…too friendly.”
    “And that bothers you?”
    Did she detect the barest note of sarcasm in his voice? She half turned and stepped away from him, her eyes studying the cloudless sky. “I recognize the irony of the situation. But I have reason to be leery of Brooks.”
    He moved to stand in front of her. There was a hint of concern in his voice as he asked, “What reason?”
    “Never mind,” she began, finding herself gazing into his gray eyes again. “The point is Alicia doesn’t know what she’s getting into.”
    He spoke just above a whisper. “Are you jealous?”
    Rebecca sighed, swallowing the humiliation. “Look, I know this is my fault. I’m trying to take responsibility for my actions. I’ll talk to Alicia, but I would like to have Brooks farther away from her. Would you arrange that, Lieutenant?”
    He nodded. “Sergeant Whiting will be along in a few minutes, and I’ll tell him to make the appropriate reassignments.”
    “Thanks,” she murmured, turning quickly away.
    She felt the barest touch on her arm. “Rebecca?”
    Even before she turned back, his arm had dropped to his side.
    “I didn’t want to cancel our game last night. I wonder if we could reschedule for this evening.”
    No. That would be foolish. That would be crazy! She opened her mouth to refuse when she caught a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. It startled her into agreeing.
    As she headed toward the ambulance, she considered