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Trapped. She was trapped. She thrust her elbow back into the hollow of his belly, and he grunted in pain as she swooped out from under his arm.
"You must calm yourself, Katherine," he said, his tone soothing as he followed her to the bed.
Slipping a hand beneath the pillow, she grasped the butt of the pistol and withdrew it from its hiding place. Cocking it, she thrust it squarely into his groin.
"We are not doing this." Her voice sounded husky around the knot of smothering rage lodged in her throat. "How long have you known we could not annul the marriage?"
His gaze slid downward to the gun then moved back up to her face. With studied care, he eased back from her. "I suspected it from the beginning."
Resolve hardened within her. She would not be his wife. She would not be anyone's wife. She kept the gun steady in its position. "Move back."
"My father always told me never to point a loaded pistol at anyone lest you were prepared to fire it." He stepped back, his movements slow and measured, his hands palm out.
"My brother once told me so as well." She struggled not to allow her gaze to waver. "Back up." When he hesitated she added, "I should hate to give you a lead ball for a wedding gift."