Page 95 of Her Reluctant Hero
“Yeah, well, you have to stay tonight. I don’t want anyone in the jungle in the dark.” He flicked his gaze over her. “You’re probably hungry.”
He turned away, his body loose limbed, relaxed, the opposite of the tension that ran through her own body.
“Dinner should be almost ready. Let’s hit the mess tent.”
She fell into step beside him, unwilling to give him the slightest edge. “Let me guess. Chili and beans.”
“The digestive tract’s best friend.” He looked over his shoulder at the Land Cruiser. “You going to leave your bag in the truck?”
She flushed. Over the past few years she’d gotten accustomed to being waited on by bellboys, waiters, valets, but Adrian’s gentle prodding reminded her of his rule—everyone carried their own weight in his camp. She backtracked the few steps to the Land Cruiser for her duffel and turned to see Adrian’s smirk as he recognized the worn bag.
She swung the strap over her shoulder as they crossed the short distance to the mess tent.
“You’re early, as usual,” the young woman in the tent told him.
The smirk turned into a full-blown smile, complete with dimples and white teeth. Mallory was glad she wasn’t the recipient. It had too much power, and after her long trip, she wouldn’t have any resistance. As it was, it sparked a hum low in her belly. The girl behind the table seemed immune.
“Linda, this is Mallory.”
He didn’t add any more, but the hardness in Linda’s eyes told Mallory he’d mentioned her name before. Well, what did she expect, that he’d have glowing things to say about her after Tunisia? Thank heavens she would be out of here tomorrow.
“Mallory. Welcome to our camp.”
Mallory wondered if her imagination put Linda’s emphasis on the word “our”. Linda’s smile was tight as she served up a bowl of chili that ordinarily wouldn’t have looked appetizing, but after the cardboard burger she’d had on the flight, Mallory’s mouth watered.
Adrian motioned her out to the benches set around a campfire. The evening was already cooling. She suppressed a shiver as she stepped gingerly around the crude wood. Facing the flames with her left side away from him, she balanced her bowl on her lap.
“You did bring a sweatshirt?” Adrian gestured to the goose bumps on her arms.
She inclined her head toward the duffel she’d dropped at her feet. She wasn’t exactly sure why she didn’t want him to see her engagement ring; she fully intended to explain why she was anxious for this divorce. The very thought of that conversation tightened her throat. “I’ll get it in a minute.”
She took a bite of chili. Either she was hungry or had spent years away from camp food, but she found the lumpy brown glop delicious.
Adrian watched her, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.
She looked down to see she’d cleaned her bowl. Embarrassed, she set her bowl aside. When she did, her ring glinted in the firelight.
Adrian stilled beside her.
Funny how she was so tuned to him after all these years.
“What’s that?” he asked, his voice flat.
Damn his eagle eyes. She straightened. If she had to choose, she would have waited to talk about this. “My engagement ring.”
His lips thinned. “You’re engaged.” So matter-of-fact, when it couldn’t be easy to learn.
Needing something to do, she bent down and unzipped her duffel. She pulled out her sweatshirt, though she was no longer cold. “You had to know there was a reason I came here to get the papers signed.”
“When’s the wedding?” His eyes didn’t leave the ring, but the muscle in his jaw jumped.
“July 21.”
“That’s—” He calculated, his brow furrowed. “What? Five weeks away?”
“Not quite.” She barely restrained herself from squirming under his inquisition.
He set his full bowl aside with athunkthat showed his emotions were barely constrained. “Who’s the guy?”
