“Looks like you were wrong.”
He surveyed the target, seeing that the hole had just barely found the haystack.
“How do I know you didn’t do that on purpose?”
She shrugged. “Shall we put forth a wager?”
“I’m a gentleman. I don’t place bets with ladies.”
MARGARET’S EYES NARROWED. She wished her eyes were pistols and she could prove her abilities aiming at an apple on his head this very moment.
Was he not going to compete with her based on her gender?He didn’t place bets with ladies, did he? How many wagers had he placed and won over the years? Collecting every bloody time. This was assuredly not the same Jonathan.
She pushed aside the niggling thought that he had instantaneously called her earlier bluff the way no one else seemed to be able to do.
Jonathan extended his arm, palm up. She placed the gun in his hand, being sure not to touch him this time. Last time the jolt running through her had almost made her lose her balance. Perhaps that’s why her shot went so wide.
BANG! She looked up at a perfect shot.
“Give me that.” She wasn’t sure if she heard a low chuckle, but she wouldn’t have paid any heed to it anyways.
BANG! “Damn.” Wide again.
She stopped to reload. BANG! “Bloody hell,” she muttered, and this time she was sure of the chuckle.
“What the blazes is so funny?” she demanded.
He straightened his face looking a tad shocked. Maybe that was too harsh. But it wasn’t too harsh. This was Jonathan. She could just be whoever she was or wanted to be in the moment and he had always accepted her. Where the hell had that Jonathan gone, and who the devil was here now?
She knew she had to soften her approach. That’s what ladies did. She should have more control over her demeanor and not allow others to rile her up. But she didn’t dare utter an apology. In fact, she hardened her gaze and repeated, “Well?”
Jonathan hardened his gaze right back. “Well,” he took two paces toward her, decreasing the space between them to a handful of inches. “For starters, you need to make a few tweaks.”
“Tweaks?” She didn’t mean to squeak the word, but he was so close she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks.
And then he placed his hand on her lower back, turning her square to the target. She commanded her body to remain solid and upright while her legs threatened to mutiny her. She didn’t remember the other adjustments he made, only that with each touch she instructed her body to stay still.Do not turn toward him. Do not lean into him. Do not. Do not. Do not.
He took a step back and cleared his throat. “Yes, that looks better.” He motioned toward the target. “Go ahead.”
BANG! Still wide.
“Hmmm…” As he eyed her up and down, she shivered. And then prayed to God that he didn’t see that. That perhaps God took mercy and temporarily blinded him for the fraction of a second the shiver took to run up and down her spine. Or more realistically the sun blinded him. Yes, the sun. She resolved that the sun was in fact in cahoots with her.
“Upon closer inspection…I see something I missed.” He tapped his finger against his chin. “The raised gooseflesh. You’re cold.”
Damn you, sun.
He shrugged out of his jacket and stepped behind her to help her slip into it. The intimacy of the moment nearly shattered her. The warmth of the jacket seeped into her skin, and, in spite of her best intentions, her soul. She wanted to lift her shoulder to her ears and pull the jacket tightly around her. She wanted to back into him and let his arms wrap around her as they once had.
But she couldn’t. He didn't remember. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to.
So instead of wallowing, she raised her arm and took aim.
BANG! Dead center.
***
THAT NIGHT JONATHAN NEEDED to take his mind off of the enticing woman he’d spent his afternoon with, so he sat in his guest bedchamber rereading a letter from Dr. Walker.