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Bex nodded, assuming Duncan was going to hand her the ear defenders, but instead, he moved closer towards her, raised his hands and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ears.

‘Hopefully these fit okay,’ he said, the gravelly tone in his voice resonating all the way through her. Once again, she nodded, having apparently lost the ability to speak. ‘So before we fire the clays, we need to work on your position and mounting the gun. Now, be careful not to pull the trigger. I’ve just loaded.’

A flurry of nerves cascaded through her. She’d never considered herself clumsy before. But then, she’d never been given a loaded shotgun to hold before, either.

‘So, place your left hand here,’ Duncan said. His voice was a gentle, warm whisper in her ear as he rested his palm on the back of her hand. Bex tried to ignore the tingle that was spreading on that side of her face and focus on listening to what he was saying. But it wasn’t easy. She just seemed to dissolve into his lilting accent. ‘Great, and now you’re going to lift it up, so that your cheek bone is lying flat against it there, that’s it. You don’t need to tilt your head. You’ve got it.’

Bex wasn’t aware she had tilted her head. Actually, she wasn’t aware of any movements her body was doing at all, and she sure as hell wasn’t in control of them. It was taking all her willpower not to be distracted by the constant shivers running down her spine as Duncan’s chest pressed up against her back.

‘Sorry, but I need to get this close to do it properly,’ he said, as if he was reading her mind.

‘Really?’

‘Well, it’s definitely the easiest way of doing it, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t picked something that meant I’d get to be close to you. Just tell me if you want to move.’

He was giving her a way out, but more than that, he was reading her. Seeing if she wanted him close to her the same way he did.

‘If this is the best way to learn, then I’ll just have to cope,’ she said, trying to stop the smile from flickering on her lips.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll only hold you like this until you’ve got the hang of it. You need to be able to feel the recoil and allow your body to move without losing control.’

‘Right,’ Bex said, wishing her voice didn’t sound quite so breathy. ‘Of course.’

‘Now, just squeeze there. That’s all you’re doing, squeezing gently.’

‘There’s nothing to shoot at,’ she said, forcing herself to swallow. It may have been summer, but even so the heat was stifling.

‘Don’t worry, we’ll get the hang of this first, then I’ll do the clays,’ Duncan said, still holding her close. ‘Just squeeze a little more.’

Finally, Bex did as instructed and pulled the trigger.

The force with which the gun recoiled was far stronger than she’d expected, and she found herself pushed back into Duncan’s chest. A rush of adrenaline bolted through her, though she didn’t know if it was from firing a gun or the fact that his body was so close.

‘How did that feel?’ Duncan asked.

‘How did…?’ She took a second to realise he was talking about the gun, and not his arms around her. ‘Good,’ she said, her pulse still pounding against her ears. ‘I mean, yes, yes, that was… yes, good.’

‘Okay, right, well, I’m going to try letting a clay go now.’

In her flustered state, she had stepped away from Duncan, yet it was only as he moved across to the trap that she felt that distance between them.

‘The key is to make sure you keep the gun mounted like I showed you,’ he said. ‘The clay’s going to go up in the air, and you’re going to follow it with your eyes and your gun. Keep moving them together, and when you feel ready, squeeze that trigger again. Ready?’

‘Probably not,’ she replied truthfully.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

The first shot was a bust. As the small disk rose through the air, Bex continued following it, keeping the gun in the position Duncan had shown her, waiting for the moment she felt comfortable enough to pull the trigger. Only just when she thought she was ready, the clay slowed and began its descent, and suddenly she was all off balance. In a rash attempt to save herself from failure, she swung the shotgun down, losing sight of the clay as she finally pulled the trigger.

‘I think it’s safe to say I’m not a natural at this,’ she said.

‘That was your first attempt,’ he said. ‘You just need to go for it sooner. Let’s reload and go again.’

Bex followed every instruction Duncan gave her to a tee, and after twenty minutes of hit and misses, she struck three clays in a row. After that, they paused to eat the sandwiches he had brought with him, then they started again.

Straight off the bat, Bex hit four shots, but then it started going downhill.

‘I think this is where we have to end it,’ she said, having missed her third consecutive clay. ‘I think I’ve peaked.’