Page 37 of The Russian's Kidnapped Bride
She glances between me and the pistol on the counter with apprehension surrounding her, then she pushes one earmuff back.
“You’re serious.”
“I am. You should know that by now.”
To start, I lift the gun, pop out the magazine, and show her every step—every part that she should know. I run her through it, and she at least seems to listen. Then, I offer it to her to handle first.
But she doesn’t take it.
“Is handing me a weapon really in your best interest?” She asks, lifting a brow at me.
I can’t help but huff my amusement, gesturing with the gun. “Attempting jokes now? That was actually funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
“And I’m not either. If you were planning on assassinating me here and now, then you’ve just blown your cover,” I say, letting my words come out a bit more serious. “I want you to stop assuming you’re too delicate for this world.”
Her lips part as if preparing some kind of retort, but no words come out, and it almost looks like I’ve slapped her.
Then, a stubborn glint shines through, and a rare but appealing heat follows.
“I’m studying to heal people, not injure them.”
“Shooting guns doesn’t require hurting anyone. Now take it before I start assuming you don’t have any balls.”
Lily glares at me, then snatches the pistol before I can say anything else to get beneath her skin. She steps closer to the lane with a clumsy grip on it.
I let her fumble with it while she gets familiar with the weight, and despite her attempts to act indifferent, I know it makes her nervous.
But beneath it, I can see a different kind of fear.
She’s afraid of liking it.
When she lets go of an uncertain breath, I step in behind her, wrapping a hand around hers to adjust her grip. “Hold it tighter.”
My chest brushes against her back, and I swear I feel the shiver that moves through her.
Lily doesn’t say anything, but she moves her fingers as I guide them, tightening her hold.
“Good, that’s better,” I murmur close to her ear, feeling the tension as it ripples through her.
Now, it seems less attributed to fear, and more so thatsomething elseis simmering between us.
“Stand here…feet shoulder-width apart,” I direct her, lightly nudging her closer to the lane.
With the gun slightly raised, she glances over her shoulder at me with a slight scowl on her face. “Do you get off on this or something?”
I hum at the accusation with a small grin. “I’ll admit, seeing my innocent wife with a gun does something for me.”
Lily scoffs and half-heartedly rolls her eyes before focusing on the pistol in her grasp.
My amusement lingers for another moment while I look her over and adjust her earmuff, and then I slowly guide her arms up. “Find your aim and keep it steady. Finger on the trigger, take a breath, then squeeze when you’re ready. Got it?”
She doesn’t say anything. Instead, she inhales and holds the gun in place while her gaze narrows at the target at the far end.
A moment later, she pulls the trigger, and the crack of it echoes throughout the space with a satisfying sound.
Lily jolts from the unfamiliar recoil, but my hands instinctively fall to her waist to keep her steady.
