Unexpected Oasis by Cd Hussey Read Free Book Online

green. Set off by thick black lashes, the color is positively gorgeous.
    "You aren't like the women we usually see here," he suddenly says. His voice is low, thick.
    I choke down another swallow. God, that voice… "What do you mean?"
    "You're pretty." The matter-of-fact way he says it makes the words even more shocking.
    My expression must give away my surprise because he quickly adds, "I mean, you just don't look like…" His throat clears. "See, engineers tend to have a certain look, especially women." He pauses, grimacing. "Shit. My mouth isn't big enough to fit my entire foot in it."
    I push aside my shock and offer him a sympathetic smile. For a man who has been nothing but in complete control every time I've seen him, he's adorably flustered. "No, it's okay. I understand. And thank you—for the pretty comment."
    His expression softens a little but remains serious. "Anytime."
    I shift from one foot to another suddenly feeling awkward about the attention. I don't feel very pretty. I haven't felt pretty in months. And the attention I'm receiving from men who have only been exposed to frumpy, engineer types, or women in burkas, doesn't make me feel any prettier. It might as well be two a.m. and I'm the only girl left in the bar. They aren't wearing beer goggles, though, more like sand goggles.
    No matter how uncomfortable his praise makes me, I'm not ready to end the conversation. Not yet. He's just so…nice to be around.
    "So, what's Frank's story?"
    Trey seems almost as relieved by the change in conversation as I am. He stoops to scratch the dog's head. "Frank was rescued when this compound was first built. He wandered into camp, half starving, and covered with open wounds. The Brits took him and nursed him back to health. He's been here since." He scratches the dog's head again. The stump wiggles so hard, Frank's butt shimmies with it. "Judging from his scars, we're pretty sure he was a fighting dog. But he's been a great camp dog. Loves expats and hates locals. Makes it hard for the cleaning staff sometimes, but the security he offers more than makes up for it."
    "Well, remind him I'm an expat will you?"
    "Gladly. Here, I'll make the introduction now." Kneeling, he clasps Frank's collar and then gestures for me to join them. I do. Hesitantly.
    I ease my hand tentatively forward. Frank glances at Trey in question, whose nod is combined with a reassuring pat, and then Frank just as tentatively sniffs my outstretched hand. I swear the dog seems surprised. But he looks once more at Trey and then licks my hand. I must smell Western enough. I'm guessing it's the Victoria Secret Vanilla Lace lotion I'm wearing.
    Assured I'm not going to lose any fingers, I run them lightly over Frank's head. His short black fur is deceptively soft, sleek even, the scars on his skull rough road bumps. I try to ignore them and not think about the horrible conditions he must've been subjected to before being rescued.
    Frank's tail nub begins to wiggle and Trey smiles. The expression lights up his ruggedly handsome face, making him GQ model handsome. "See, I knew you'd be friends."
    Suddenly feeling self-conscious about my lack of mascara, I focus my attention solely on Frank, increasing my petting energy just as the dog's nub wiggle becomes almost spastic. "Did I find an itchy spot?" I ask as one hind leg begins to thump the ground. "Between you and the horse…"
    I can feel Trey watching us and try to ignore it. My body refuses to though, my heart rate increasing and my entire body warming even more, especially my cheeks. Once again, I can't believe how immaturely I'm responding. It's quite possible the most ridiculous thing that's happened since I got here. More ridiculous than an American bootlegger delivering Pakistani liquor all over the Afghan countryside. More ridiculous than the security team's silly nicknames.
    "There it is," Trey says out of the blue, scooping up a tennis ball I hadn't noticed earlier. Frank immediately forgets about