Masked by Janelle Stalder Page A

than the man who seemed to be occupying every stray thought she had. It was becoming an unhealthy addiction she seriously needed to kick. Her hands shook slightly as she looked down the barrel of the gun, the target in sight. Despite the fact that she hated guns, part of her wanted to make a good shot. It was the overachiever in her, she supposed.
    “You might want to take the safety off first,” Roman suggested with obvious amusement.
    Bridgette looked at the gun, wondering what on earth was the safety, and how did one release it? Eventually Roman walked back behind her, his chest brushing up against her back as he reached around and clicked something on the gun. Bridgette was too busy breathing in the scent of him like a crazy person to pay attention to what he’d done. He stepped back again, giving her some much needed space.
    Focusing again, Bridgette locked her eyes on the target and squeezed the trigger, squeezing her eyes shut as she did. The force of the shot ricochet down her arm and had her taking a step back. She opened her eyes to see how she’d done, but couldn’t see where the bullet had hit the target. Huh. Where did it go?
    Roman came up beside her chuckling. “That was the worst shot I’ve ever seen,” he said.
    Bridgette bristled indignantly. “It wasn’t that bad,” she argued.
    “Next time,” he said, leaning in close, “try shooting with your eyes open. You might hit something that way.”
    She sighed, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. “Clearly I’m not cut out for this,” she said. “The darn thing nearly took my arm off.” Her muscles were still aching from the recoil of the shot.
    Roman laughed again. “Let’s try again,” he said, stepping to the side so he was behind her once more. The feel of his arms coming around to encompass her was starting to become disturbingly familiar. He placed his hands over hers again, lining up the shot. This time he didn’t take them off as he steadied her hand, and flicked the safety off expertly with his thumb. “Ready?” he asked, his voice soft in her ear. She nodded. “Eyes open this time.”
    Bridgette braced herself, but the kickback wasn’t as bad with Roman’s muscled torso bracing her. She watched as a tiny hole appeared in the target at the other end of the room. It wasn’t in the middle, but at least it was close! Of course, she couldn’t accomplish the same thing on her own, but still, she was slightly pleased. She turned her head, smiling even though he couldn’t see it.
    “I did it,” she said proudly.
    When he turned to look at her, their faces were so close their noses almost touched. “You sure did,” he said, his eyes suddenly serious as he stared into hers. Slowly, Bridgette’s smile slipped away as tension built between them. Neither said a word, just looked at each other, Roman’s arms still wrapped around her.
    “What is it about you lately?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
    “What do you mean?” she replied, matching his tone.
    He shook his head slightly. “I don’t know, but you’re different somehow. I can’t explain it. It’s your eyes, I think.”
    “What about them?”
    “They’re just – different. They sparkle with so much energy and life…it’s captivating.”
    Bridgette floundered for a response, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. What could she say to that? Thankfully she was saved from a reply as the door to the range slammed open, the sound echoing.
    “There you are,” a female voice said, her heels clicking loudly on the floor as she made her way over to them.
    Roman hadn’t looked away, his face still searching for an answer he wasn’t about to get. Bridgette wanted to see who had entered, but was enthralled by the man standing so close to her. By all outward appearances, Roman Adamson was a hard, controlled man. But as Bridgette stared deeply into his eyes, she could see there was so much more to him, hidden beneath the image he’d