“Now, one last point of advice. A strong, firm grip is essential.”
Oh God. Did hewanther to drag him back to the castle and have her wicked way with him?
“If your grip is too loose, it’ll jerk and fire off-target. The recoil will hit you harder. Let’s practice once before you shoot. Show me your grip.”
Oh, how she’d love to show him. She blew out a small breath. Target. Focus on the target. She stretched her neck from side to side and let the competitiveness that ran rampant in the Jennings bloodline spread through her, clear her mind and body of the effect this man had on her.
She squeezed the pistol tight, a slight tremor shaking through her hands and arms.
The Duke leaned forward, his cheek brushing ever so slightly against hers. “See that? There?” He let his forefinger trace over the barrel of the gun. “See how it tilts to the side? That means your grip isn’t straight. It means when you pull the trigger, your bullet is going to pull wide.”
Her brows pinched. Well, that wouldn’t do. She needed to hit the bullseye. All of a sudden, showing this man she was a crack shot took on the utmost importance. She wanted to seduce him, yes. But now, for reasons she didn’t quite understand, she also wanted to impress him.
“Loosen your fingers, readjust, and squeeze again.”
She let out a frustrated snort. He needed to stop saying such suggestive things or she was never going to get this right. She pushed her shoulders back against his chest, and he stumbled away from her.
“Yes, I understand, Duke. Thank you.”
She let out a long breath, finally able to fill and empty her lungs fully. She readjusted her grip and squeezed. The pistol stayed straight.
“Now, be sure you are prepared for the recoil,” he was saying from a few feet behind her.
Felicity narrowed her eyes, her gaze lining up over the barrel of the gun directly with the bullseye.
“…it is forceful, but I’ll be…”
Knees loose, legs slightly bend.
“…catch you…”
Hands together, grip firm.
“…don’t worry…”
She pulled the trigger.
The recoil hit her like sharp kick to the chest. But she was ready for it. She held steady, mouth set in a firm line, gaze never leaving the target, and let her knees absorb the shock.
And then shock hit her.
Her mouth dropped open.
Pandora whooped from where she stood off to the right of Felicity. “A bullseye! Felicity, on yourfirstshot!”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the Duke whispered.
11
Ash
Ashcouldn’tbelievehiseyes. It was luck. It had to be luck. He glanced back at Lady Felicity, and his lungs went on holiday. She grinned at him, achild who had found the cook’s freshly made treaclegrin. Her eyes glowed amber-sun bright. Oh, she was very proud of herself. Pride looked beautiful on her.
Not thinking those thoughts, Ash.
“Excellent shot, Lady Felicity,” he said with a polite nod.
“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” she said, a saucy lilt in her tone. Her gaze dropped to the pistol, her fingers tracing over the barrel. Then she glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “Some might say, better than a Duke.”
