An unsettling tremor shook through his chest.
He cleared his throat. “Are you ready for target practice, Pandora? Or should we reschedule? I hate to interrupt you ladies, especially since you rarely are granted time with Lady Felicity.”
“Yes, we’re ready! Felicity is very excited. She has never shot a pistol before. But I told her you are the best of instructors.”
His body went still, his daughter’s words registering. Lady Felicity’s words from earlier came flittering back.I never thought I’d desire shooting a pistol. But I am quite excited to try now with you.
Ballocks. He hadn’t intended for Lady Felicity to join them. It was to be a reprieve from her tempting presence, a welcome distraction until dinner. But there was no way to politely uninvite her, nor for him to back out now.
It looked like he would have to brave Lady Felicity’s allure again sooner than he’d hoped. And—instruct her to shoot? His arms wrapped around her? His body pressed against hers?
Hades send him strength, because it was clear he needed to pray to the devil with how he was destined for hell.
10
Felicity
Thereportofapistol rent the air. Felicity’s lips tugged up at the serious mask hardening Pandora’s features. Such determination in a girl nearly fifteen. Felicity looked at the target, squinting. A large hole was ripped through the third line of the bullseye. Impressive. Well, Felicity assumed it was impressive. She wasn’t exactly an expert, given she had shot a gun a total of zero times in her life.
The Duke walked up to her, a freshly loaded pistol in his hand. Time to find out how difficult a task it was.
He motioned for her to step in front of him—silently, of course. Actually, he did make somewhat of a grunt. She rolled her lips in to prevent her smile, though she could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that she wasn’t successful in hiding her amusement. Grunts and growls weren’t going to deter her. It only made her that much more determined.
She sidled up to him, deliberately pressing her back into his chest. He sucked in a breath. Heat rippled over her skin, a fission sparking in her veins. She let out a long, slow breath. But so did he. And bugger her, because the sharp scent of his toothpowder surrounded her and made it nearly impossible to form a single rational thought.
He cleared his throat. “You will want to grip it here with your shooting hand. Be sure to avoid the trigger as you set up your positioning.”
Focus, Fliss, pistols. She was about to shoot a gun. She should probably have her wits about her. She took the gun and replicated his grip, her hand wrapping high up around the handle.
“Excellent.” His low murmur whispered over the back of her neck, warm and wicked. Egads, she very much liked him praising her. “That’ll ensure you have the most control over the recoil. If you choke up too high, you’ll feel the full force against your palm, but just below the butt there and you hold the control.”
She shivered against him, and he stilled, the rise and fall of his chest suddenly absent. What the Duke didn’t know was, she couldn’t have prevented that slight tremble if she tried. Control was a heady thing for Felicity. It was something she lacked entirely. And even in this, in shooting a pistol, having full control sent a thrill coursing through her.
“Where do I put my other hand,” she prodded.
“Right,” he said roughly, his words drifting over her neck like coarse gravel, her hair prickling in its wake. “Line up your thumbs and curl your fingers around the handle. Be sure to have the heel of your palm as tight to your lead hand as possible. The tighter your hands are together, the more command you’ll have over your shot.”
She slid her left hand into position.
“Now straighten your arms, line yourself up with the target.” His arms curled around her, his hands resting on either side of hers on the gun.
Her heart rate kicked up. He was so solid. So warm. Bloody hell, he smelled like fresh soap and lemons. And Felicity loved lemons.
“The key is to think of the gun as an extension of yourself.” His rich timbre reverberated through her, and she couldn’t prevent herself from leaning back into him. Shewashere for seduction after all.
“Now plant your feet,” he said, his voice lower than before. “Toes pointing toward your target. Remember what I said, the gun is an extension of you. Everything you do should lead to your target, point to your target.”
She shifted in his arms, stepping away from him slightly, squaring her shoulders. Her eyes homed in on the target, narrowed.
“Slight bend in the knees. Stabilize yourself. Prepare for the recoil.”
She loosened her stance, letting her knees soften.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
Heat arced to her core.
Fuck.Fuck, fuck, fuck.
