Project Seduction (11 page)

At lane four, he laid the cases on the ledge at the end and flipped them open. “I'll start you with the semi-automatic.” He spoke loudly to overcome the constant popping of gunfire that filled the air. “It's faster to load. I've already filled the clips."

Georgina craned to look past him. “Which bits are the clips?"

He made an effort not to grit his teeth. “What do you know about guns?"

"That they are used to kill people."

He turned and eyed her with an open lack of patience. “Do you really want to do this?"

"Yes."

"Then cut out the stupid remarks."

She gave him a defiant look. “As I know absolutely nothing about guns, most of my remarks are bound to be stupid."

He picked up the Springfield. “This is a semi-automatic. The ammo goes into a clip, and the clip goes into the grip.” He pulled the slider, picked up a clip, slotted it in. “You press this button to engage the weapon.” He stopped to demonstrate, then moved to stand a few steps down the lane and talked over his shoulder. “When the weapon is loaded and ready to fire, you never point it at people, or at your feet. You either point it at the target, or to the ground in front of you, well away from your feet."

He raised his arm and lined the weapon with the target. “When you pull the trigger, the spent cartridge is ejected automatically, and a new round is inserted into the chamber.” He lowered his arm and with a deft turn of his hands removed the clip. “You got that?"

She frowned at him. “You've got to explain most of those words to me."

"All you need to do is aim and pull the trigger."

"If I'm going to learn, I want to do it properly. How do I insert the clip?"

He glanced up, surprised. “I only paid for an hour, in case it got too hot. Why don't you just go ahead and fire a few rounds now, to get the feel of it? I'll show you later how everything works."

"All right. I want to put these on.” Georgina picked up the ear protection. “Will I be able to hear you?"

"Let me know if you can't."

"Why the goggles?"

He'd already slipped his earmuffs on. Her voice was muted, and he raised his own to make sure she would hear him. “The spent cartridges. They fly up."

Georgina dropped her goggles on the floor. When she picked them up, the pants stretched taut over her firm round buttocks. Rick felt his throat go dry. Damn it to hell and back. He shouldn't have let Angelina talk him into this.

"Here. Hold the grip tight.” He passed the Springfield into her hands and stood behind her. Sweat began to trickle down his chest. Christ, if she stepped back even a fraction, she would realize he had a hard-on.

"You have to pull the slider before you can insert the clip,” he said, hoping that the ear protection would disguise the sudden hoarseness in his voice.

She grappled with the gun. “I can't do it. It's too stiff."

He did it for her, taking the opportunity to put more space between their bodies.

"How do I insert the clip?"

He instructed her. She fumbled with the clip, dropped it, then quickly picked it up again. He watched, mesmerized by the way she moved. Her knees hardly bent at all. She simply folded her body gracefully at the waist and swooped down with one arm. The sight of her rounded butt straining against the fabric was driving him insane, and a small suspicion began to form in his mind that she was doing it on purpose. He'd never got the impression that Georgina was clumsy.

He clicked the clip into place. “Press this button,” he told her.

The slider moved, and the weapon was engaged.

"Switch the safety to ‘off’ position, and you're ready to fire."

"I don't like this gun,” Georgina complained.

He stared at her, fighting to keep his temper in check. “What is there to like or dislike?"

"I don't like the way it bucked in my hand when I pressed the button, and I don't like the way it looks. All black and lethal. Can I try the other one?"

"You haven't even fired a single shot yet."

"I don't have to fire it to know that I don't like it."

"Jesus.” He yanked the weapon from her hand, pushed the safety on, and ejected the clip. Then he thought better of it. “Stand back. Stay behind me.” He rammed the clip back, engaged it, turned off the safety and blasted thirteen rounds into the head of the cardboard man at the end of the lane.

"Way to go, buddy,” someone shouted from the next lane. “They should make the targets woman-shaped."

Georgina glared at the partition that stood between them and the lane on their left. The dividing wall didn't go all the way up to the ceiling. She wanted to toss something over the top, something dirty and smelly and slimy. Then she shrieked and jumped in the air, because the loud-mouthed man in the next lane had tossed something over the wall at her.

Rick's hand came down soothingly over her arm. “It was just an empty shell,” he told her. “They bounce around a bit.” He ejected the clip and handed it to her. “Can you put that on the table next to the case?"

"There's a trashcan in the corner,” she said. “We can dump it there."

He gave her grin. “The clips are not disposable. They are thirty bucks apiece. They are refilled, and used over and over again."

"Oh? On the telly they just chuck them over their shoulder."

He pointed at the empty clip. “That's on TV. Anyway, you couldn't chuck this. It's a police clip."

"What does that mean?"

"It holds thirteen rounds. Civilian clips hold ten. In most states it's illegal to possess a police clip unless you're in law enforcement."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"It's nice if the good guys have a few shots left after the bad guys have run out."

Georgina found the smile that accompanied the explanation somewhat condescending, but she allowed him his little jibe. “Can I see the other gun?” she asked.

She could tell that Rick was about to roll his eyes, but thought better of it and stopped himself just in time. “Sure,” he said through clenched teeth. “Let's find out if you like that one better."

Georgina watched Rick as he went over to the shelf at the end of the lane and put the first gun away in the plastic case. His movements were smooth and confident. Today he wore dark grey combat pants rather than jeans. The pockets on the side of his thighs were dragged down with the weight of the boxes of bullets.

When he strode back, he held a slightly larger gun. It was in shiny silver, instead of matte black.

"Oh yes,” she said breezily. “This one is a lot better."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, but refrained from commenting. “This one is a revolver. A Smith and Wesson 357 Magnum, to be precise.” He opened his fist to reveal a palm covered in bullets. “There's no clip. The ammo goes into the cylinder."

"Are those the bullets?” She peered into his hand. “My, they're pretty."

"Pretty.” Rick looked down at his hand and pulled a face. “Haven't heard that before."

"They are. The way they are all golden, with a copper tip. Just like jewelry made out of two-tone yellow and red gold."

"It's not gold, it's composite, but the tip is copper. You can get lead-tipped cartridges as well, but people who work in law enforcement use these, or hollow-tips. These are called full metal jackets."

"Oh? She smiled up at him. I thought that's something you wear."

"Nope.” He smiled back at her. “It's ammo."

"Why do you prefer these? Is it just because they're pretty, or are they better in some way?” She picked up one of the bullets and held it between her thumb and forefinger, admiring the sleek design.

"Lead is poisonous. It can seep in through your skin. If you handle a lot of ammo, like cops do, you want to avoid lead."

Georgina dropped the bullet back in his palm and reached over to run her finger along the barrel of the gun. “I like this one. Show me how to put in the bullets."

His eyes followed her finger and there was a moment of silence. Then he cleared his throat and carried on talking. “The proper term is cartridges, or rounds. Just the tip is the bullet. The rest is the shell casing. It holds the charge and the primer. Those explode and make the bullet fly off at an enormous speed."

"Was that the stuff that was raining over the wall?"

"Yeah. That was the empty shells. A semi-automatic needs to eject them to get the next round into the chamber. With the revolver, the used shells stay inside and you have to eject them afterward."

"I want to try this one. Show me."

With a flick of his wrist, Rick flipped out the cylinder. He showed her how to slot the cartridges in one by one. Then he showed her how to twist the cylinder back in place.

"This is a double action revolver. That means that when you pull the trigger, it will first cock the hammer, and then fire the round. You have to pull the trigger quite hard."

"Will I have to spin the cylinder for the next shot?"

"No. That happens automatically."

"Is the safety on?"

"It's on.” He stepped close behind her, and moved her arms to point at the ground in front of her. “Remember not to point at your feet.” He reached out to the weapon she was holding and pushed the safety catch off. “You're ready to fire."

Georgina held the gun in both hands and raised her arms. Rick stood right behind her, just as she'd imagined. She could feel the heat of his body against hers. The noise of the steady little explosions from the other lanes appeared to fade away.

"Can you see the little raised sight at the far end of the barrel? There's a little notch in it?"

She nodded. Her hair caught the side of his face, that's how close he was.

"There's a little bead at the near end. Look down the barrel and line up the two."

"Okay.” She could see what he meant.

"Now aim at the target. Aim a little higher than you want to hit, because gravity will drop the bullet a fraction during flight."

She looked down the barrel of the gun at the cardboard man. “I can't do it,” she said, lowering the gun. “I can't shoot at a target shaped like a human."

His arm flashed out and pulled hers up. “I told you not to point at your feet."

"Sorry.” She shifted her stance and looked at him over her shoulder. “I want one of those targets with concentric circles."

"It's going to take at least ten minutes for me to go and find you one."

"Will you do it? Please?"

A shout came from the next lane. “I've got a spare. If you take the weapon out of her hands, I'll bring it over."

"All right, buddy,” Rick yelled back. He took the revolver from Georgina's hands and pushed the safety back on.

"How can he eavesdrop?” Georgina fumed. “Why isn't he wearing ear mufflers?"

A wiry man with thinning brown hair appeared through the back. “Darlin', I'm eavesdropping because every now and then I need a reminder why I'm a bachelor."

Rick laughed. Georgina glared at them both. The man from the neighboring lane handed a cardboard target to Rick.

"Perhaps I've changed my mind,” Georgina said, staring at the man. “Perhaps I'd prefer a human shaped target after all."

The man ignored her and shook his head at Rick. “Good luck, pal. I bet she's a handful."

"There are compensations,” Rick said.

The man turned his attention to Georgina. She felt her blood boil at the way his eyes roamed up and down her body. Then he winked at Rick. “I bet,” he said.

She was just about to make her move, when Rick's arm shot out to block her way. The wiry man saluted them and walked off.

"You traitor,” Georgina fumed at Rick. “You were collaborating."

"Simmer down. The guy did us a favor. It would take me ten minutes to walk out to the reception and get you a different target,” Rick said as he released her. Georgina spent the few moments that it took for him to switch the targets trying to calm down.

"Ready?” Rick said. He handed the revolver to her.

She snatched it out of his hands.

"Remember not to point at your feet after you take the safety off."

Ignoring him, she switched the safety catch to ‘off’ position. She lined up the barrel, aiming a little higher than the black circle at the centre of the target. Then she squeezed the trigger. Her grip flinched a little when the hammer cocked. She aimed again and continued to press the trigger, until the gun exploded in her hands with a deafening noise.

"Let's see what you got,” Rick said. Georgina hadn't even realized that he hadn't resumed his intimate stance behind her. Instead, he stood a little to one side, looking through a pair of binoculars.

"I'll be damned,” he said. He stared at her in amazement as he lowered the binoculars. “You scored a bull's eye."

"I was aiming at the bull's eye,” Georgina said in a frosty tone. “Why should it be such a surprise that I managed to do exactly what I intended to do."

"A handful, pal. No question about it,” shouted the man over the wall.

"Oh, shut up,” Georgina yelled.

Rick leapt forward and grabbed her arm. “For God's sake, Georgina. I told you not to point a loaded gun at your feet."

She rammed her elbow into his abdomen until he let go. Then she raised her arms and fired another five shots into the little black circle at the centre of the target.

Three hours later they set off on their way home. Georgina leaned back in the passenger seat and sulked. Why, why, why was she such a slave to her obsessive nature? The instant Rick had started lecturing to her about weapons and shooting, her brain had switched gears. She had ignored him as a man, instead concentrating on soaking up information. Listening and absorbing, like a dry sponge.

And Rick had been no help at all. After he witnessed her unexpected talent for marksmanship, he accepted her interest as genuine. He poured out facts and data, until her head reeled.

Her secret agenda had collapsed. In the beginning, she had dropped a few things on the floor and bent over to pick them up. Then she forgot to keep doing it.

Rick's reaction when she ran her fingers along the barrel of the gun had been like she'd pressed a magic button. Heat had flooded into those dark eyes, and his body had stiffened. Georgina shook her head in disbelief. Did every elongated object represent a phallic symbol to a man? Were there no limits to the male vanity that identified everything potent with personal virility?