“What do you plan to do with that little .22 pop gun?” the black bearded man in the tuxedo asks as he takes a step closer to Sunni De La Croix.
“Take another step closer and you’ll find out.” Sunni aims her small .22 caliber pistol at his heart.
“You’d better be accurate with that thing or you’re liable to just make me mad.”
“If you’re willing to test my marksmanship, take that next step.”
The corners of the broad shouldered, handsome man’s lips turn up slightly as he slowly raises his hands and slides his front foot backwards parallel to his other.
“You were willing to send me to Hell, I guess, then.”
“Heaven or Hell, that’s between you and God, but you came within one step of finding out.”
The young, blonde debutant keeps her sparkling blue eyes and pistol fixed on Mark Masters. She waves her free hand toward a large leather high back chair in the library of her family’s mansion without disturbing the point of the gun barrel fixed on his heart.
“That’s very polite of you, Sunni,” Mark eases slowly and carefully toward the chair.
Mark’s eyes watch as the gun barrel seems to be mysteriously and amazingly fixed on his chest all the way to the chair.
“What are you doing in the library? Don’t try to tell me you were lost,” Sunni doesn’t move.
“I assure you that the reason doesn’t call for the need of a gun.”
“I’ll decide that when I hear the reason.”
Mark slowly raises his left arm without taking his eyes off the barrel of the gun. He points in the direction of the bookshelf.
“I was in here to take a look at the book selections.”
“Did you have a certain book in mind?”
“No, … I mean, yes, … well, sort of,” for the first time, Mark shows signs of fear.
“I’m glad you made that so perfectly clear. You need practice on making up a good alibi.”
“Alibi? Pistol? As far as I know Sunni, this is a library. You’re acting like one of these books was murdered.”
“Look, Mark, this is my house. There’s a party which you are obviously dressed for on the other end of this large home. What are you doing in the library?” Sunni’s voice crescendos a decibel with each word.
“So, what? What are you protecting that your afraid I’m going to harm in here?”
Sunni lowers her gun as she ponders how to answer his question and not reveal her purpose. When Mark sees the gun barrel drop, he starts to get up.
“Sit back down and answer my question.”
The gun barrel raises and Mark falls with in the chair disgusted.
“It’s your library. I’ve been here a dozen times. Sometimes with you. I came as usual to get a book.”
“There’s a party going on way over there,” Sunni unconsciously points to the other end of the mansion with the gun.
Mark starts to get up out of the chair. Sunni drops the barrel of the gun back down toward Mark. He falls back, again, slapping the arm of the chair.
“I’m not much of a party-goer. I love books,” With this confession. Mark almost wishes Sunni will shoot him.
“Why do I not believe you?” Sunni begins to wave the gun up and down making Mark even more nervous and retracting his death wish.
“Look at the evidence. I’m in the library. I’m awkward at parties. I’m not exactly a ladies’ man. Case closed,” Mark throws up his hands and crosses his legs.
“I always thought…,” Sunni stops short and lowers the pistol.
Mark uncrosses his legs realizing Sunni’s more relaxed state, “You always thought what?”
“I never noticed that you are awkward at any of the parties where I’ve been.”
“That’s because you probably saw me at some point early at the party and then thought no more of me after that.”
Sunni thinks back on some of those parties, “OK, so what? You looked like you were having a good time.”
“That’s the way it looked to you, huh,” Mark manages to creep out of the chair and within arms length of Sunni.
Mark lunges for the gun and without any real struggle snatches it away from Sunni.
In dead pan expression, Sunni declares, “Don’t worry. It isn’t loaded.”
Mark doesn’t know whether to be relieved or upset.
“So, tell me what was all this drama about?” Mark asks laying the pistol down on a large desk resting within arms length from where the two stand facing each other.
Sunni looks up into Mark’s dark brown eyes. She notices how his forehead forms a deep little dimple as he frowns down at her. Mark notices her noticing and his countenance relaxes.
“I guess you’re not super hyped on parties, either,” Mark, now more comforted, has time to assess.
“No, but you startled me when I heard you coming down the hall.”
“So, what were you planning to do in here?”
“Read a book.”
Mark looks around and scratches his head,”In the dark?”
“Well, I was going to turn that light on and sit in one of those chairs and read this book,” Sunni reveals a book that she has had in her hand the whole time.
“So, why pull a gun on me?”
“Nowadays a girl cannot be too careful, especially alone in the dark, even for a plain Jane like me.”
Mark starts to comment, hesitates, then decides to declare, “You think you’re plain?”
“Well, I meant to say misshapen.”
“That’s not the way all us guys describe your body,” Mark feels his face turn hot with embarrassment.
“What do they say? Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“All I’m going to say is that you are… are….”
“Are what? Come on, I want to know.”
Mark draws closer. Sunni doesn’t resist or tense up when he does.
“You’re beautiful,” Mark extends his hand barely touching the hand that once held the gun.
“Is that what they all say?” Sunni clasps the hand that grazes hers.
“It’s what I say, too.”
Sunni presses up next to Mark. Although the room is dark, there is enough light filtering in from the hallway for each to detect the others pleasure in this moment. Sunni realizes she still holds a book in her hand. She gently leads Mark by the hand toward the desk where Mark laid the gun. She places the book on the desk next to the small revolver freeing her hand.
Sunni reaches around and touches the small of Mark’s back. Mark wraps his arms around Sunni placing one hand on the middle of and the other between the shoulder blades of her back.
As Sunni’s lips pull one sweet breath away from Mark’s, he whispers, “Were you through reading?”
“Mmmm,” Sunni replies as their lips press together.
I write about what I'm thinking or what I've imagined in an effort to regain that childhood imagination and marry with my many years of real experiences. I'm getting better at it the more I write.I am a published author of two romantic intrigue novels.My books can be found at Amazon.com or if you want a personalized copy, by emailing me at firstname.lastname@example.org.