Page 14 of Princess's Revenge
Andrea picks it up, “Can someone at least show me how to work this thing? I’ve never used one before.”
I stand back, fold my arms and watch Franky explain things to her. He ejects the magazine, shows her where the bullets go, shows her the safety, the hammer, the sights, the ejection port. He’s not bad.
The whole time, I’m watching her like a hawk, ready to draw on her if she makes one false move. The blood of a tiger runs in her veins…even if she doesn’t know it.
She could turn that gun on my brother in a heartbeat—kill him without a second thought.
When Franky’s instruction about how the gun works is over, he starts explaining how to shoot. “Left foot a little bit forward. Knees bent. Square your shoulders,” he gets behind her, both hands on her upper arms.
He’s flirting his ass off. He’s clearly into her…but so am I.
“Elbows bent too,” he goes on. “Keep the gun cupped firmly in your left hand. You’ll use the right to guide you when you’re aiming and to squeeze the trigger. And remember, you don’t yank or tug at it, you squeeze.”
Andrea looks like she’s feeling out of her depth, “Okay. Got it.”
Does she though?
I can see how nervous she is. It’s written all over her face.
Franky points out the sights, “So you line up the back sights here with the notch at the tip of the barrel, that’s how you know you’re shooting straight.”
“Okay,” Andrea looks even more confused.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, go for it,” Franky gives her an encouraging smile. I’ve never seen him do that with anyone before.
Andrea does everything that Franky explained to her, she takes her time like she’s a deadeye marksman…plants her feet, gets her stance right, lines up her shot and then…BAM!
The gun jumps out of her hand and she lets out a smallshriekas it clatters to the floor. She leaps out of the way, “I can’t do this! I can’t do this!”
I grab her as she runs for the door in a mild panic—arms flailing.“Hey,” I take her hand, “relax!”
“I’m not a gun person, okay?”
“You most definitelyarea gun person,” I give her my most charming smile—which probably means I’m grinning like a shark looking at its lunch.“You just need the right motivation.” Then I turn to Franky, “Or a better teacher.”
He rolls his eyes at me.
“Come on,” I put my arm around her and guide her back.She smells great.If Frank wasn’t here, I’d be trying my luck, but fornow…I’ll settle for a little flirting of my own. Maybe some mind games.
Everyone’s been treating the new heir to the throne with kid gloves.Ithink she needs a reality check.
Sure, she’s a princess, but she’s not going to be visiting sick children in hospitals and waving to crowds with her pinky jutting out. This princess was bred for war, she needs to be tested through blood and fire.
I let my hand drift down from her shoulders to her waist as we walk back. She gives me a curious sideways glace for my effort. I’m a second away from grabbing a handful of her ass—it looks great in her jeans—but decide against it…for now.
We get to the table with the firearms and I push Francis away with two fingers to his chest, “Watch and learn.”
He shoots his brow—I love screwing with him too.
I point to the Beretta she was using, “This is too much for you. You can’t start learning on a gun that’s bigger than you are.” I move the gun aside and point to something more appropriate. “The SIG Sauer P238, that’s more your style. Pick it up and feel the weight.”
She tests the heft in her palm and nods. “Yeah, this is better.”
Frank’s phone rings. He answers, “What?”