Unexpectedly Expecting the Sheik's Baby - Elizabeth Lennox Page 0,31
She saw everything from pistols to rifles to automatic weapons and other items that she didn’t recognize.
“What in the world?” she asked, horrified and, at the same time, fascinated. “Why do you have so many weapons?”
He laughed softly as he selected two pistols, checking the magazines for bullets. He took several boxes of bullets from one of the drawers below. “It isn’t what you’re thinking.”
She stepped back when he turned around, handing her a pair of safety glasses. “I think that you have an illegal stash of arms in your house.”
He chuckled. “Not illegal, but yes, a significant number of weapons. My security team keeps all of the weapons cleaned and ready for immediate use in case of an emergency.”
He led her down a short hallway and opened another door. That’s when Cassy realized that the man didn’t just have a weapons cabinet in his house, but also a shooting range. “You practice in here?” she asked, amazed.
“Of course,” he replied and handed her a pair of ear protection. “My whole team, including myself, practice often.”
She didn’t understand that, but then again, she didn’t need to. Cassy would only be in this house for another twenty-four hours, maybe less.
She looked at the ear protection in her hands, tilting them from one side to another. “Why did you hand me these?’ she asked, suddenly reluctant.
“Because I’m going to teach you how to fire a pistol,” he replied as if it was the most obvious answer.
“This way,” he urged and led her to one of the shooting aisles. He placed both pistols on a small counter in front of them, with the muzzle pointed towards the target end.
“First, you’re going to check the safety,” he explained, pointing to the switch at one end of the pistol grip. “Always make sure that your weapon’s safety is in place before you pick it up.”
Cassy eyed the sinister-looking black gun, her mind running in a thousand different directions. Yes, she’d always wanted to learn to shoot, but…uh…not like this! Not with a man who could probably shoot the whiskers off a dragon!
She didn’t have time to wonder if dragons actually had whiskers because he put his hands on her hips and turned her so that she was facing the target. The heat coming through the two layers of their clothing was more than a little disconcerting. Nasir shifted, moving so that her back was practically braced against his chest, his hands still resting on her hips.
“You can touch it,” he told her softly, his breath tickling her ear.
Cassy started to turn around, to tell him that this was a bad idea, but his hands on her hips stopped her. “Don’t wimp out on me now, Cassandra. Pick up the pistol. Let me see your grip.”
She faced the target and took a deep breath.
So she reached out and gingerly picked up the weapon. Actually, she pinched it with her thumb and forefinger, afraid it might…explode or go off or do something horrible if she held it too tightly.
“You need to grip it like you mean it,” he told her. She could hear his amusement. She should have anticipated his next move. His arms wrapped around her as he showed her how to grip the gun. His body was literally surrounding her, almost hugging her as he demonstrated. Even his hands were covering hers as he adjusted her grip. “Like this,” he whispered, his voice husky.
She tried to hold it firmly in her hands, but his body was pressed against hers from her shoulders all the way down to her calves. Part of her wanted to drop the pistol, turn around and demand that he do the same thing that he’d done earlier. But the smarter half of her brain, the more sensible side, was screaming to just drop the gun and run away, get as far away from him as she could.
He must have understood the conflict going through her mind because he leaned forward, pressing his body more firmly against hers. “That’s better,” he told her, his lips dangerously close to the sensitive shell of her ear. “The safety is on, so nothing will happen. Try pulling the trigger. Just get a feel for the weapon, understand the weight, the heft.”
She shook her head, exasperated. “I can’t. Not while you’re so close to me.”
“Fine,” he stepped back. “Now, feel the weight. Hold the gun steady.”
She wanted to berate him, to demand an explanation on how to hold the stupid thing steady when he was nearby.