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Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement / Tempted Into the Tycoon's Trap: Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement
Emily McKay

Leanne Banks


Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement Leanne Banks Years after she’d fled Hollywood, former actress Gwen and film industry big shot Luc – a man she had never met before – announced that they were engaged! Forced into the charade, Gwen will be swept into Luc’s world of movie premieres and celebrity power plays. Tempted Into the Tycoon’s Trap Emily McKay Somehow the tabloids had discovered Cece’s passionate history with Jack and his connection to her dark-haired little boy. Now Jack is forcing her into a lavish Tinseltown wedding with none of the marital benefits…THE HUDSONS OF BEVERLY HILLS Privilege and passion…all in the public eye!










Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement by Leanne Banks


“Put this on,” he said. Lifting the large solitaire with a diamond-studded band, he caught her left hand and pushed the ring onto her finger.

Gwen gaped at the ring, shocked at how well it fitted. “How did you know –” “Pretend you’re madly in love with me,” he said and tugged her towards the front door. “But what –”



“The paparazzi,” he said and opened the door.



Gwen immediately heard a dozen clicks from the camera. Luc slid his arm around her waist. “Gotta give you guys credit. You’re the first. You make it damn hard to keep a relationship private.”



He turned towards Gwen and dipped his head. “I think they’ve caught us, sweetheart,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.



Don’t miss an exclusive in-book short story by Maureen Child, following Tempted Into the Tycoon’s Trap by Emily McKay.




Tempted Into the Tycoon’s Trap by Emily McKay


“Come on, Jack, let’s not make more of this than it is. Old habits die hard.”

“Old habits die hard?” Bitterness tinged his voice. “And here I thought this was consolation sex. How many excuses do you think you need to sleep with me?”



“You think these are excuses to sleep with you? They’re reasons not to get involved with you again.”



The absolute conviction of her words stung. “I don’t recall asking you to get involved.”



“Oh, no,” she scoffed. “That would be way too much commitment for you. You haven’t changed one bit.”



“No. I haven’t changed. And neither has this attraction between us. All I want is for you to admit it.”





Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement


by




Leanne Banks

Tempted Into the Tycoon’s Trap


by




Emily McKay









MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/)





Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement


by



Leanne Banks


Leanne Banks is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author who is surprised every time she realises how many books she has written. Leanne loves chocolate, the beach and new adventures. To name a few, Leanne has ridden on an elephant, stood on an ostrich egg (no, it didn’t break), gone parasailing and indoor skydiving. Leanne loves writing romance because she believes in the power and magic of love. She lives in Virginia with her family and her four-and-a-half-pound Pomeranian, named Bijou.


Dear Reader,



I’m so thrilled to launch this exciting, juicy series, THE HUDSONS OF BEVERLY HILLS! There’s money and scandal and, most importantly, great men. In my story, Gwen McCord has left Hollywood eating her dust and she has no desire to return. She’s happy where she is, but a family emergency and Luc Hudson force her to change plans. Luc turns her peaceful life upside down. We all want a man like that in our lives, yes?

Writing for Desire™ is a dream come true. Every day I’m privileged to weave a story featuring a heart-stopping, all-man hero and the lucky, deserving heroine who teaches him the importance of love.



Here’s to Mills & Boon, for all the excitement and pleasure you continue to bring us all!



Leanne Banks


This book is dedicated to all the readers and lovers of Mills & Boon and Desire™




Prologue


“I bet my Ferrari,” Devlin Hudson said to Luc in a room filled with cigar smoke, brotherly rivalries and the aroma of expensive alcohol.

“You sold your Ferrari,” Luc said, calmly arranging the cards in his hand. “I bet my twenty-five-year-old scotch.”

“Technicality,” Devlin said, clamping his mouth over the cigar. “Check.”

“Your cards must smell like your feet,” Luc said.

Max Hudson took a swallow of his scotch. “I’m holding.”

Jack Hudson, their cousin, swore. “He’s not saying much. That means he’s got a killer hand.”

Jack was an excellent judge of character, but Luc knew that Max could bluff with the best of them, even if he did it quietly. “That’s what he wants you to believe.”

Max slid Luc a sideways glance. “Your PR psychology has gone to your head.”

“You wish,” Luc said. “I see the dirty underbelly, and I usually know when someone is taking me for a ride.”

Jack looked from Luc to Max. “I’ll see your scotch and add my Patrón,” he said.

“You’re toast,” Luc said.

“Shut up,” Max said.

Devlin just growled.

Luc’s cell phone rang, interrupting the game.

“Oh, no. Is this another of your young girlfriends?” Jack asked.

“He always goes for the young ones,” Max said in agreement.

“The older ones know better,” Dev added.

“Luc Hudson,” he said into the phone.

“This is Officer Walker with the L.A.P.D. I’m calling on behalf of Miss Nicki McCord. She’s being charged with driving under the influence and asked that we call you.” The man cleared his throat. “She’s not in the best shape at the moment.”

Luc rose to his feet. “Where are you taking her?”

The officer gave the location. “Sir, she was driving the wrong way down a one-way street and narrowly missed hitting a family returning from a trip to Disneyland.”

Luc raked his hand through his hair and shook his head. “I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he said and turned off the phone. “Sorry. Nicki McCord. I have to go.”

“DUI, right?” Devlin said.

Luc nodded.

“Damn,” Max said. “What are we going to do about the prepublicity for The Waiting Room? Nicki was supposed to start the PR jaunt next week.”

“If only you were dealing with her sister Gwen instead,” Jack said. “I hear she was a complete professional.”

“Except when she left her ex-husband high and dry during their last movie,” Devlin said.

“With Peter Horrigan, you don’t know how much of that was spin or not.”

Luc felt his mood turn grim. “I’m going to have to do some spinning of my own.”

“You’re the family problem solver,” Devlin said. “Go do what you do best.”




One


“I’m Luc Hudson. There’s been an emergency with your sister, Nicki.”

Gwen McCord’s heart plunged into her stomach as she looked at the tall, handsome man with the watchful blue eyes standing on her front porch. She barely noticed her yellow Lab’s barks over the panic racing through her. “Is she okay? Is she—” The worst possible thought stole the rest of her words and breath.

“She’s alive,” he said and nodded toward the door. “May I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Gwen said, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, stepping aside and pulling June, her dog, away from the doorway. Lost in her concern for Nicki, some part of her noticed the man’s height and broad shoulders as he passed by her. He smelled of rich leather and just a hint of a spicy male scent. She glanced past him, spotting the SUV he’d driven to her ranch. For a member of one of Hollywood’s most powerful families, the Hudsons, to make a personal visit to her in Montana, something terrible must have happened.

Gwen’s stomach clenched in fear. “Please go ahead and tell me. Is she in the hospital?”

“No, we put her in rehab,” Luc said, resting his hands on his hips. “She was arrested for driving drunk. Driving the wrong way on a one-way street. The police clocked her speeding thirty miles over the speed limit. She narrowly missed a head-on collision with a family of four returning from Disneyland.”

“Oh my God,” Gwen said, feeling her blood drop to her feet. A sick dizziness rolled over her, and she felt her knees dip. Luc’s strong arms caught her, drawing her against his hard chest.

His eyes searched hers. “Do you need to sit down?”

She nodded. “I think so,” she said as he guided her toward the overstuffed sofa in the sitting area at the front of her ranch cabin.

“Where’s the kitchen? I’ll get some water for you,” he said.

“Straight down the hallway,” she said, resting her head in her hands, castigating herself. If only she could have made Nicki listen! She’d repeatedly begged Nicki to get out of the fast lane, but Nicki had ignored her. Her younger sister had been determined to make a name for herself one way or another, and lately there’d been much more attention paid to Nicki’s partying than to her acting abilities.

Luc returned with a glass of water and shook his head when she started to rise. “You’re still pale,” he said.

She took a sip of water and inhaled a shallow breath. “I should go to her.”

“You can’t,” he said. “No one is allowed to see her during the detox phase.”

She stared at him. “Not even a family member?”

“No one,” he said. “It was a condition of getting her into this rehabilitation center. It has an excellent success rate.”

Unable to sit any longer, Gwen rose to her feet. “I tried to get her to stop. I was able to persuade her to come out to the ranch for a few days. I hoped the fresh air and peace and just being away from the party scene would help. But her friends were always calling and sending her text messages. She got antsy and left early. I made her promise she would be more careful.”

“She’ll get the help she needs now.”

Gwen fought the tears that filled her eyes. “I feel like such a failure. I should have—”

Luc put his hand over her shoulder. “She’s an adult, free to make her own choices, right or wrong. You couldn’t control her.”

Intellectually, she knew he was right. She would have said the same thing to someone else in these circumstances, but it didn’t stop the combination of guilt and helplessness gnawing at her.

Taking a deep breath, she felt a rush of gratitude for the Hudsons. They had gotten her sister to a safe place. “Thank you so much for taking care of her. I would have liked to have been the one to have been there for her, but at least she’s getting help. It could have turned out so much worse.”

He replied with a slow nod and gave her a long considering glance. “Everyone wants Nicki to get better. The problem is that this has happened at a critical time for Hudson Pictures. Nicki was supposed to be preparing to do promotion for The Waiting Room. Her stint in rehab could damage the way this movie is perceived by the press and the public.”

Gwen remembered the PR routine from her years of acting. Although she’d left a promising acting career and Hollywood behind, she would have to have had amnesia to forget the promotional sprint required for movies—interviews with magazines, entertainment and news shows, public appearances.

“That is difficult,” she acknowledged, then shrugged. “But with Nicki in rehab, there’s really nothing that can be done.”

Luc met her gaze with a resolution that made her uneasy. “I disagree,” he said in a velvet voice with an underlay of steel. “In this case, the press needs a distraction. After taking care of Nicki last night, we held an emergency meeting and came up with a solution.”

Gwen shrugged again, not sure why she needed to know this information. Her concern was Nicki, not Hudson Pictures. “I’m glad.”

His lips rose in a crooked grin of irony. “We’ll see.” His amusement faded as quickly as a flash. “In order to keep the focus off Nicki, an announcement was made to the press last night. The announcement was that you and I are engaged.”

Shock slammed through her. Gwen stared at him in disbelief. She blinked, shaking her head. She couldn’t have heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

“As far as the press is concerned, you and I are engaged to be married.”

Gwen shook her head faster. “Oh, absolutely not. I don’t even know you. I don’t want to know you,” she added to underscore her refusal. “Part of the reason I left Hollywood was to get away from the public relations racket that never stopped. No—”

“It’s already done,” he said in a firm voice. “If you don’t want your sister’s reputation to go down the toilet, then you’ll cooperate.”

The coolness in his voice dug at her. She took a second look into his eyes and glimpsed a ruthlessness that made her shudder. “This almost sounds like blackmail, ” she said.

“Call it what you want,” he said. “I’m good, but I can’t perform miracles. Your sister has made a huge mess, and someone’s got to clean it up. Allowing The Waiting Room to tank because of her lack of maturity and discipline isn’t going to help anyone, including her.”

Gwen couldn’t fight the urge to defend her sister. “You know nothing about the hurt Nicki has gone through. When my parents divorced it was at a very critical time for her, and she might as well have been orphaned for all the attention they gave her. She’s been struggling with the damage ever since.”

“That’s what therapy is for,” Luc said. “No one’s life is perfect. At some point you have to grow up and take responsibility for who you are and what you want. Nicki is overdue.”

Even if there was a bit of truth to his words, Gwen couldn’t forgive his lack of compassion. “Easy for you to say that no one’s life is perfect. I suspect yours has been pretty damn close. The perfect powerful Hudsons.”

He shot her a wry smile. “The reason you think we’re perfect and powerful is because I’ve done my job with the press. Just as I’m now doing my job for this movie and your sister.”

Her sister was an afterthought, of course. His attitude infuriated her. “Nice try, but I can’t believe it will work. I can’t imagine that anyone would be interested in me anymore,” she said. “I’m no longer in the Hollywood scene. As far as the paparazzi are concerned, I lead a quiet, boring life rescuing horses on my uncle’s ranch. And that’s they way I intend to keep it.”

“Again, that’s where you’re wrong. You were a darling. Women wanted your combination of beauty and strength. Men just wanted you. Your last film came out a year ago, and when the DVD comes out in two weeks, it’s projected to be a top seller.”

Gwen swore under her breath. “So in PR terms, I’m one of the flavors of the moment,” she said and felt the prospect of participating in Luc’s scheme tighten around her like a straitjacket. “It still won’t work. I have the ranch.”

“The plan is for me to stay here at the ranch for a while. Then we’ll make a big public splash in L.A. in a few weeks.”

Her stomach turned. “I cannot fathom pretending to be your adoring fiancée for three seconds.”

“You won a Golden Globe and were nominated for an Oscar. This will be cake.”

“Cake,” she echoed in disbelief. “I might as well be engaged to the devil. I was married to a man who only wanted me for—” She broke off. The memory of all that had taken place between her and her husband was still too painful. “I can’t pretend that way again.”

“You can for your sister,” he countered.

Gwen stomped to the front closet and grabbed her boots. She felt so trapped, so impotent that she could scream. This would be a fine time to muck out the stalls. Heaven knew, she needed to work off some of her extra energy threatening to erupt any second. She kicked off her shoes and shoved her feet into the boots, trying to ignore the tall, imposing figure of Luc Hudson standing three feet away from her.

“Where do you want me to stay while I’m here? You have a guest room?”

A few searing, scathing responses kicked through her brain about exactly where she would like Luc to go, but she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying them.

He gave a wry chuckle. “I realize you’d prefer I stay in the barn,” he said.

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to punish the horses,” she said. “Go down the hallway and take the second door on the right. It has a brass bed and a sheepskin rug on the floor beside it. You can have that room,” she said and left the house with a small sense of satisfaction. Although putting Luc in that bedroom meant he would be sleeping next door to her, entirely too close for her comfort, she loved the idea that he would be living in a pink room for the time he was here. She’d decorated the room with Nicki in mind, so the walls were pink, the balloon shades fashioned from a French floral sateen of pink and blue that matched the floral quilt on the bed. A lace bedskirt coordinated with lace pillows on the bed and a cozy pastel blue upholstered rocker sat beside the bed.

All that pink would drive Luc, a man dripping with masculinity, out of his mind. And if she were lucky, out of her house and life.



Luc carried his suitcase into his assigned room and surveyed his new digs. He wiped his hand over his eyes and face. The girly room was a far cry from the clean, cool lines of his contemporary home decorated in black and white. Glancing at the puffy window treatments, he felt his skin begin to itch as if he were having an allergic reaction.

How was he supposed to get any work done in this room? The dresser was covered with girly knickknacks. Luc couldn’t stand clutter. His job was to fix the clutter and chaos that other people created. That was the reason he was here.

His mind wandered to the woman who would help him carry off the charade. She was even more potent in person than she’d been onscreen. With each change of emotion, her expressive eyes and face grabbed and held his attention. Luc was good at reading people within the first thirty seconds of a personal meeting, but Gwen was too complex.

It hadn’t been necessary to read her dossier. Her history had been splashed on every magazine and newspaper. Rumors had swirled that her affair with a costar had caused the demise of her high-profile marriage to one of Hollywood’s top producers. Then she’d disappeared.

Her beauty and talent obviously had not disappeared. Neither had the simmering sensuality that boiled beneath her composed surface. If Luc hadn’t learned his lesson about getting involved with actresses, he would be tempted to learn Gwen’s secrets in and out of bed, but he knew better.

His cell phone rang, and he immediately identified the ring that belonged to his brother Max. “Hey, I made it.”

“I decided I should check, since I hadn’t heard from you.”

“It took me longer than I expected to rent the SUV. Gwen’s ranch is dead center in the middle of nowhere. You can tell she wanted to leave the ‘City of Angels’ far behind.”

“How did she respond to the news?”

“Depends on which news,” Luc said, moving closer to the window and studying how to disconnect the curtains. “She was upset about Nicki, wanted to go see her.”

“You nixed that,” his brother said.

“Yeah.”

“And how did the lovely lady feel about your impending nuptials?” his brother cracked.

Luc frowned and shook his head. “The things I do for the family business. Let’s just put it this way—I’m glad she didn’t have any sharp instruments close by when I told her.”

Max gave a low chuckle. “You mean she wasn’t dying to get involved with one of the town’s most sought-after bachelors?”

“You’re having a little too much fun with this.”

“Maybe you could have some fun too if you play your cards right. Gwen McCord was damn hot. Didn’t she make the sexiest females list of some magazine years ago?”

Several magazines. Luc recalled one particularly memorable shot of her from one of her movies where she was dressed in a man’s unbuttoned shirt and nothing else. The photograph had exposed a generous amount of creamy cleavage, hinted at dusky nipples beneath and revealed shapely legs that went on forever. The tip of her tongue touching her upper lip and long bangs covering one of her eyes was the stuff to fuel the fantasies of millions of men young and old. Luc pushed the arousing image from his mind. “The only way Gwen is hot right now is how furious she is with me and the Hudsons.”

“Oh, she’s lost her looks already?”

“No,” Luc said in exasperation. “She’s still beautiful, but she’s angry that she’s been forced into this engagement.”

“She ought to be grateful we got her crazy sister in rehab so quickly,” Max said.

“She is. She just doesn’t want to be dragged into the public eye again.” Opening the closet door, he found it mostly empty. Relief oozed through him. Thank God. He could stuff the knickknacks and lacy crap in there.

“You think she’ll go along with it?” his brother asked.

“She doesn’t have a choice. That’s why she’s so pissed,” Luc said. “Her frustration isn’t important as long as she cooperates.”

“I’ve heard that take-no-prisoners tone from you before,” Max said. “I don’t know whether to feel sorry for you or her.”

“I don’t need any pity,” Luc said, glancing at the pink walls and grinding his teeth. “I can take care of myself.”



After Gwen mucked out the stalls and fed the horses, she returned to the house, still bothered, but under control. She temporarily left her boots at the front door and made her way toward her bedroom. The smell of something delicious wafted from the kitchen. The door to the room where Luc Hudson would be sleeping was open. When she glanced inside, she nearly got whiplash.

Luc sat in the blue chair working on his laptop, but the curtains were gone, along with all the pillows, the collection of figurines and porcelain jewelry boxes and every picture on the wall. A dark comforter she suspected he’d found in the hall linen closet covered the bed. The windows were bare.

She stepped inside. “Where are—”

“In the closet,” he said before she could finish. He stood. “I did some temporary redecorating. I’ll put it all back before I leave. Although the furnishings were—” he paused a half beat “—lovely, they were distracting. I have to be able to concentrate on my work.”

She glanced at the bare windows and nodded. “Okay,” she said. He would be waking up at the crack of dawn, but that wasn’t her problem. “No problem. “What do I sme—”

“My chef prepared a couple of meals before I left,” Luc said. “When I told her I was leaving for Montana, she was convinced I was going to be stuck in the wilderness in a blizzard.” He glanced outside the window at the falling snow. “She was half-right. Are you hungry?”

Her instinct was to say no. After all, she didn’t want him here. He was uninvited and he was interrupting the peaceful world she’d worked so hard to build for herself. Her stomach rumbled silently, and Gwen decided it didn’t have to mean anything if she ate some of his food. Otherwise she would be facing her own cooking, which left a lot to be desired.

“A little,” she conceded.

“You’re welcome to it,” he said. “Roast chicken and some vegetables. And homemade bread,” he added in a warning tone. “No woman in L.A. will touch bread.”

Homemade bread. Gwen tried to conceal her excitement as her feet moved of their own accord to the kitchen. “I’m not in L.A.,” she said, hearing him follow her. She saw a box with handles on the counter. “They let you bring that on the plane?” she asked.

“I chartered a jet,” he said.

“Oh, right,” Gwen said, remembering the occasional times when she’d also flown on a chartered flight. Those days were over since she’d left her film career behind. She rarely regretted the loss of the perks from her glamorous career. One exception was the service of a chef. Cooking had never been her forte.

She glanced inside the box and inhaled the scent of fresh bread. Heaven. She reluctantly met Luc’s gaze. “You’re sure you don’t mind sharing?”

“Not at all,” he said, amusement tugging at his sensual mouth. “I would have never dreamed you’d be so enthusiastic about carbs.”

She shouldn’t like him. He was powerful, oozed confidence and probably always got his way. She couldn’t help smiling in commiseration. “One of the top-ten wonderful things about leaving Hollywood is being able to indulge myself with forbidden foods more often. Thank you,” she said and took a bite of the fresh bread.

He pulled some containers from the refrigerator. “I noticed your refrigerator’s bare except for frozen dinners. Where’s your staff?”

“My uncle, who owns the ranch, offered to share his housekeeper with me, but I don’t want to cause any extra expense during the transition phase,” she said and put the food on a plate, then placed it into the microwave.

“So my chef wasn’t far off the mark,” he said, resting his hands on his hips.

“My focus right now is getting up to speed on managing the rescue operations of the ranch. I eventually want to add a summer camp for disadvantaged children. Cooking for myself isn’t a big priority. If you’re concerned about food, you can always stay in town. There’s a diner and fast-food restaurant, a motel and—”

He shook his head. “You and I have to be together in order to sell the story.”

The microwave alarm dinged and Gwen removed the food. Her mouth watered in anticipation. Just as she pulled a knife and fork from a drawer, her cell phone rang. Glancing at the Caller ID, she immediately picked up. “Hello?”

“Gwen, this is Robert Williams with the fire department. We have a report of a mare stuck in an icy pond on the McAllister property. If we can get her out alive, do you want to rescue her?”

The image of the trapped horse flashed through her mind, and her heart tightened. “She doesn’t belong to any of the ranchers who live close by?”

“No. They’re pretty sure she’s wild.”

“Wow,” Gwen said, adrenaline rushing through her veins. “Yes. I’ll call Dennis and the vet and bring over the trailer. Thanks.” She pushed the off button and speed-dialed Dennis, the operations manager for the entire ranch, but it went straight to voice mail. “Darn,” she muttered, remembering that Dennis had taken his wife into town to celebrate their anniversary. He’d probably turned off his cell.

“What’s wrong?” Luc asked.

“I need to go pick up a horse for rescue. Dennis usually goes with me.”

“I can help you,” he said.

She shot him a look of disbelief. “This is a wild horse. If the fire department can get her out of the freezing pond, she still may not be cooperative.”

“A close friend of my parents owns a ranch. I spent summers there when I was a kid and teenager. I worked with the trainer when he broke a couple wild ponies.”

“Really?” she said, surprised. As one of the privileged Hudsons, Luc struck her as the kind of man who would demand and receive only the best and most cutting-edge conveniences in his life. She would have bet money that the only physical challenges he faced were conducted in a temperature-controlled gym…or perhaps the bedroom. She immediately pushed that thought aside. Where had it come from anyway?

“Yes, really. Shouldn’t we be going?” he asked. “I’ll grab my coat, hat and gloves.”

Rattled by the intensity in his expression, she nodded. Without Dennis around, she would be a fool to reject Luc’s offer of assistance. “Okay,” she said and pulled out plastic wrap to cover the food and put it in the refrigerator.

“Bring that plate with you?” he asked over his shoulder as he walked toward the room where he was staying.

“I can’t eat and drive,” she called after him, but he didn’t appear to be listening.

Less than a minute later, he appeared in the hallway dressed for the outdoors. “I’ll drive. You can navigate in between bites.”

“That truck has a stick shift and an ornery clutch.”

“I can handle it,” he said with a level gaze that let her know he could handle a lot more than she’d suspected he could. He moved his athletic body with a sensual confidence that went deeper than skin, leaving no doubt that he could take care of a woman in every possible way.

Looking at him reminded her that it had been eons since she’d been held by a man, even longer since she’d made love. She’d told herself she didn’t miss having a man in her life. She didn’t miss having someone take her breath away with just a look, someone who could make her heart stop and start just by saying her name. She sure as heck didn’t miss the pain that followed when she made herself vulnerable.

She suspected he was a master seducer and lover, the kind of man to leave a woman begging for more. Gwen resolved not to be that woman.




Two


Within minutes of when Gwen and Luc had arrived at the rescue site, Gwen knew she’d underestimated Luc Hudson. Standing at the edge of the pond with freezing water rising to the tops of his boots, he used a chainsaw to break up the ice that covered most of the pond.

Gwen’s apprehension rose with each passing second. As soon as the chill overtook the mare, the horse would lose a lot of her fight and the job of rescuing her would grow more difficult than ever. Colored chestnut-brown, with a white star on her forehead, the horse was drenched, her eyes wide with fear and distress. She wanted out, but she was afraid of the men.

The men looped a rope over the mare’s head. She fought the rope for a couple of minutes. Since she was wild, she didn’t understand that they were trying to help her. Luc helped spread a tarp over the ice he had pulverized.

When one of the men waded into the water wearing an orange suit and carrying another rope for the horse’s hindquarters, Gwen rushed to grab one of the ropes from the shore.

Luc shook his head. “You don’t need to be out here. Get the trailer ready.”

“The trailer’s ready,” she retorted.

“He has a point,” said Dan, the fireman holding the rope next to her. “This is a job for someone with more upper-body strength.”

Frustration twisted inside her, and she passed the rope to one of the other firemen. “I’ll back the trailer a few feet closer.”

“Good idea,” Dan said. “We’re going to need to get her inside as soon as possible.”

The wind sliced like a vicious whip, and sleet pelted her down jacket like tiny needles of ice. Gwen climbed into the truck and started the engine, then backed up a few feet until she heard one of the men yell. She exited the truck and checked the trailer again.

Luc waved for her to come to him. “Here,” he said, taking a digital camera from his pocket.

“What?” she asked in dismay. “You want me to take pictures?”

“No, I want you to shoot video,” he said. “Stand over there,” he said. “The light will be better.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“No,” he said. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later. Shoot the video. Press this button when I tell you to start.”

“This is ridiculous. I need to be helping that horse the second she gets out of the pond.”

“We’re going to take her straight into the trailer. There’s nothing else you can do. This will be great PR for your cause.”

She tasted the bitter flavor of cynicism in the back of her throat. “PR,” she said in disgust. “I should have known. You have a one-track mind.”

His eyes turned cold as the ice surrounding them. “PR is what will bring in the donations you need if you’re going to continue to rescue these horses.” He shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Hoo,” the man in the water called. “She’s on the move. This could be it.”

Conflicted by Luc’s comments, Gwen stepped aside, watching the mare thrash toward shore.

“Now,” Luc called and Gwen pushed the button for recording video. With her heart pounding at the mare’s distress, it took everything inside her to focus on the drama unfolding before her.

The mare stumbled and the men struggled to get her back on her feet. Her mouth dipped into the freezing water, and Gwen’s heart stopped.

Luc gently tugged the rope and spoke to the mare in a deep coaxing voice. “C’mon, baby, you can do it. Just a little more. We’re gonna take care of you.”

The mare dipped her mouth into the water again, then lifted it and shook her head. With a surge of energy and a synergy that was nearly mystical, the horse moved forward, Luc pulled and the fireman in the water pushed.

The mare stumbled up the tarp onto land, and Luc and the others immediately led her into the trailer. “You can stop now,” he yelled to Gwen.

Gwen blinked, automatically following his command. She’d been so tense she could barely move. She forced her feet to move toward the trailer. Luc snapped the back of the trailer closed and looked up at her.

His gaze met hers, and she felt a click that reverberated all the way down to her feet. In that instant, she understood what Luc Hudson was about. He would go to the wall for what he considered important. As far as the press was concerned, he would play them like a concert pianist to produce exactly the music he wanted. Power and passion emanated from him.

She fought a breathtaking combination of attraction and terror. Gwen realized she’d never met a man quite like him before.

“Ready?” he said.

Gwen nodded, hoping her strange feelings were like lightning, here for one second and gone the next.



Luc pulled the truck to a stop outside a large barn. Two men rushed outside to greet them.

“Good,” Gwen murmured and glanced at him. “The vet and ranch manager.”

Nodding, Luc got out of the car. Gwen exited from her side at the same time. “Carl, Dennis, this is Luc Hudson. He’s visiting and he helped with the rescue.”

Luc extended his hand to the two men. “I hope you have access to some warmers,” he said.

“Already set up,” Carl said. “I talked to the fire department while you two were in transit. They said you were a big help.”

“Glad to pitch in,” he said.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your anniversary,” Gwen said to Dennis.

The ruddy-faced man smiled and nodded. “Hey, at least we got a meal out.” He winked. “More if I get back early enough.”A thump sounded from the trailer. “This one sounds impatient. We’d better get her inside.”

It required quite a bit of coaxing and maneuvering, but the four of them managed to get the mare into a large stall. She didn’t appear happy with her confinement, but she readily drank the water available for her.

The more Luc studied the horse, the more suspicious he became. He glanced at Gwen, and she looked up at him at the same moment.

“She’s pregnant,” they both said at the same time.

Gwen gave a breathless laugh and blinked, meeting his gaze as if she was curious about him but didn’t want to be.

Her expression made something in his gut tie into a knot. She reminded him a bit of the mare—strong, with a wild streak, but skittish as the day was long.

She looked away. “Carl, do you think the baby will be okay?”

“Give me time to examine her,” the vet said, nudging his shoulder against the horse and talking softly to her.

Luc watched Gwen cross her arms over her chest and bite her lush lip. She was a complex woman, different from any he’d met lately, if ever. When she’d been in the Hollywood scene, her hair color had been a brighter blonde and she’d always looked cool and polished.

Luc liked her current look better. With honey-colored hair, a face scrubbed free of cosmetics and fingernails without polish, she looked warmer, more real. More touchable.

In another circumstance, he would wonder if her curly dark eyelashes were false and if the bright color of her green eyes came courtesy of tinted contact lenses, but he knew better. She was one of the rare actresses whose beauty easily conquered the unforgiving scrutiny of Hi-Def.

Watching her fidget, he moved closer. “What are you going to name her?”

She glanced up at him with a blank expression. “I have no idea.”

“She’s strong. I’d bet on her survival.”

“You would?” she asked, her gaze straying to the mare.

“Sure. Wouldn’t you?”

She looked at him and slowly nodded. “Thank you for helping. I didn’t expect—”

He lifted his hand to cut her off. “My pleasure. Really.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied him for a moment. “I can’t quite figure you out. One minute, I’m sure your defining character quality is operating the PR machine. The next minute…”

He raised his eyebrows. “The next minute?” he prompted.

“The next minute you’re insisting I eat your food or helping to rescue a horse.”

“Trust your first instinct,” he couldn’t resist saying in a dry tone. “I’m completely one-dimensional. A cynical, heartless prick.”

She blinked, surprise widening her eyes for a full moment before she did a double take. Then she shook her head and laughed. “Okay, thanks for the warning.”

“I think she’s gonna be okay,” the vet called from inside the stall. “You’re going to have a tougher time with her when she gets the rest of her strength back, which will be soon, so be prepared.”

Gwen walked closer to the stall. “What about those scrapes from the ice?”

“She didn’t like my cleaning them, but I did it anyway. I was able to give her an antibiotic without her killing me. Her temperature’s close to normal, so that’s good.”

“What about the baby?”

The vet nodded. “So far, so good. Keep the monitor on tonight, and I’ll drop by tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming out,” Dennis said. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to head back to my wife. Call my cell if you need me. Otherwise, I’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

“You go on home. I’ll stay here for a while,” Gwen said.

“Okay, g’night,” Dennis said, tipping his head. “Thanks for your help, Luc.”

“You’re welcome,” Luc said.

The two men left and Gwen turned to Luc. “You can go back to the house now. I’ll be okay.”

Luc shrugged. “I’ll stay.”

“It’s really not necessary,” she said. “I don’t need—”

“You never know,” he said. “I came in handy before.”

She gave a reluctant nod. “Okay,” she said and went to the tack room. Luc wandered around the barn, looking at the horses in their stalls and taking in the layout. Inhaling the scents of hay and horseflesh, he was taken back to the summers he’d spent at his father’s friend’s ranch. Not many people knew it, but there’d been a time when Luc had secretly considered becoming a rancher. Before he’d graduated from high school, though, it had become clear that Hudson Pictures would need him.

He moved back to the stall belonging to the pregnant mare and watched Gwen hang a bridle just inside the mare’s stall.

“Good move,” he said. “You want her to get used to the idea of the bridle, so you put it where she can see it and smell it.”

“One of the many things my uncle and Dennis have taught me. Look at how tired she is,” Gwen said in a soft voice. “Her head’s drooping.”

“She’s fighting sleep. It could be days before she really rests. Horses won’t truly rest unless they feel safe, but it’s probably best for her lungs for her to wait awhile anyway.”

She glanced at him in surprise. “That’s more than passing knowledge about horses.”

“I told you I spent several summers on the ranch of a family friend.”

She studied him for a moment. Her curiosity emanated from her like air from a fan. “You’re a Hudson. You’ve got the connections and the background. Why didn’t you go into acting?”

He laughed. “Not my forte and never my secret desire. I’m great in front of the media for fifteen minutes, thirty minutes max.”

“Then what?”

“The real me comes out,” he said.

Her lips curved upward in humor. “How scary is that?”

“Pretty damn scary,” he said.

“Then why did you choose PR?”

“More of a case of it choosing me. Hudson Pictures is bigger than me. I may have played with the idea of doing something else, but I always knew I would be a part of it. Family, heritage, destiny,” he added in a mock melodramatic tone.

“That’s the way I feel about this ranch. About rescuing horses. It’s bigger than me.”

“Making movies wasn’t?” he asked.

“This is real,” she said. “Movies are make-believe.”

He stepped closer to her. “But you have to admit that pictures serve a purpose. They make people laugh when they’re depressed. They entertain and educate.”

“True, but I’m more at peace now than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

“Some would call it hiding.”

She tossed her head. “Some can call it whatever they want. It’s most important what I call it.” She shot him a sideways glance. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back to the house?”

He laughed at her obvious effort to get rid of him. “I would have thought you were a woman who likes a challenge.”

“Depends whether the challenge is worth my time,” she said in a cool voice as she met his gaze again. Her voice might be cool, but her eyes were hot.

The combination was seductive for Luc. A forbidden image of Gwen, naked and hot in his bed, sliced through his brain. The woman made him curious. He took another tack and nodded toward the mare. “How’s the mom-to-be looking?”

She turned her attention to the horse and sighed. “Resting as well as she can,” she said, weariness creeping into her tone.

“You sound tired. You’ve had a rough day. Why don’t you go back to the house?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ll fall asleep as soon as I get there and I should stay awake.”

“Don’t you have cameras you can watch from the house?”

“Yes, but—”

“I could watch while you rest,” he said.

“Why would you do that?”

“I’m not as tired as you are. Besides,” he said, shooting her a wicked grin, “what kind of man would I be if I didn’t look after my fiancée?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t remind me. I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“You’ll get reminders soon enough. I wouldn’t be surprised if the paparazzi didn’t show up on your doorstep.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she said. “I just usually try to bore them with politeness before I tell them I don’t give interviews anymore.”

“That’s a mistake,” he said. “At some point, you’re going to need financial support in order to maintain your rescue operation. You could get a lot of mileage out of your film background.”

“I’m not interested in that kind of mileage,” she said as she took a seat in the chair opposite the mare’s stall. “You can still leave…”

“No. Someone needs to catch you when you fall off that chair,” he said, leaning against the wall.

She raised her chin in mute protest but didn’t engage him further.

Surprisingly enough, the silence was peaceful instead of hostile. The moments passed and Luc drank in the quiet, wondering how long it had been since he’d experienced such a lack of sound. Either his cell was ringing or he was creating the next spin or taking care of the latest crisis.

He drew in a deep breath of the cool air. Hmm. Maybe Gwen had a point. As busy as he’d been today, the atmosphere at the ranch made him feel less cluttered, more calm. Glancing at her to make a comment, he stopped before he swallowed a chuckle at the sight of her with her head rolled back against the wall and her eyes closed, her breath slow and even.

Watching her for the next few moments, he didn’t make a move until her head began to slide downward. He caught her shoulders just as her eyes fluttered open, but he held her right where she was.

She blinked. “What are you doing?”

His gut tightened like a vise. He inhaled her sexy, spicy scent, so at odds with the earthy smell of the barn. Her skin bare of makeup looked as smooth as satin with the slightest bloom of pink in her cheeks. And her mouth, Lord help him. Lush puffy lips the color of roses would haunt his dreams for nights.

“What are you doing?” she repeated, her voice husky.

“Catching you,” he said, flexing his hands. “Catching you before you fall.”




Three


Gwen’s breath stopped in her chest. Excitement whipped through her, shocking her with its intensity. She shook her head and deliberately pushed Luc away. “I’m not falling,” she said and stood, irritated that she felt a little wobbly. “I’m fine,” she said, determined to be exactly that.

Watching her, he slowly rose and nodded. “Good.”

Hating that he seemed to be able to see beneath her skin, she walked to the stall and watched the mare for a few moments. Feeling Luc’s presence just behind her, Gwen glanced at her watch. She would need to rise early in the morning. “I’m going back to the house. Tomorrow will be a busy day.”

“I’ll go with you,” he said and walked beside her as she closed up the barn.

During the last two years, Gwen had spent a lot of time by herself, and that time had been good for her. She’d had the chance to mourn her losses in private. Every once in a while, she’d wished for human companionship but not enough to do anything about it. As for romantic relationships, by the time her divorce from Peter had been final, she’d felt as cold as a frozen lake, and there’d been no thawing.

Snow and sleet pelted her head and shoulders.

“Wicked weather,” Luc said. “How does a California girl stand the cold?”

“I’m not a California girl anymore. I love the snow. There’s nothing like that peaceful quiet after a freshly fallen snow. It’s almost as if the acoustics of the earth change for that bit of time.”

He nodded. “I never thought of it that way, but I guess they do,” he said. “The same way they change during a thunderstorm, or an earthquake. Do you feel the same way about sleet and ice?”

“It’s more dangerous,” she admitted. “But I’m lucky. My uncle installed backup generators for my cabin and the rescue barns.”

“And you don’t ever miss the ocean or warm weather,” he said, his voice full of disbelief. “Especially during winter.”

She pursed her lips together, wanting to refute him, but knowing it was a lie. “Every now and then, I miss the warmth. It’s a trade-off.” She chuckled to herself. “Plus it keeps the paparazzi away. Only a desperate fool is going to show up in this kind of weather to get a photograph of a has-been actress.”

“Has-been,” he echoed, stopping in front of her so that she also was forced to stop. His expression was incredulous. “Is that the way you see yourself? Because you could damn well name your price and part if—”

She shook her head and smiled. “I’m a happy has-been.” His intense gaze seemed to delve inside her as if he could glimpse her secrets. Uneasy, she stepped to the side to move around him, but her foot hit an icy patch and she began to slide. “Damn—”

He caught her and pulled her against his hard chest, making her instantly aware of his strength, stealing her breath away again. She bit her lip. “I’m okay. I don’t need—”

“Maybe not, but I was raised to try to prevent women from falling on the ground. That’s three times today.”

His eyes were full of curiosity and a too-appealing blend of humor and irony. She felt a pop of her own curiosity. A reluctant knight. Who would have thought it? What other secrets lay beneath the Hudson PR exterior?

She pushed away from him. “I’ll tell you a secret. No one’s looking. You could have let me fall on my—self, and no one would have noticed.”

He shrugged. “I would have. Besides, you’ve had a rough day. Your sister, your engagement to me, the horse.”

“You can fix one of those,” she said, growing increasingly uncomfortable with his invasion of her little universe.

“Which one?”

“The engagement. You could make it go away. You could go away.”

He chuckled. “No chance. We’re both stuck for the duration. If you don’t like it, just think of it the same way you do the weather. It’s a trade-off.” He rested his hands on his hips. “So go on to the cabin before I’m struck with a sudden obligation to carry you.”

“God forbid,” Gwen muttered and trudged forward. She would nap in the office tonight so she could watch the monitors of the rescue barn. Every step she took, she heard the crunch of Luc’s boots just behind hers. She heard his breath. Right there behind her, watching her, he was waiting to catch her if necessary. The notion made her stomach turn a flip, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in years. She didn’t like it.



Hours later, she awakened to the sound of a knock at the front door. She sat up in bed, confused, realizing she was still dressed in the same jeans and flannel shirt she’d worn the day before. What? How? She brushed her hair from her eyes, trying to blink away her drowsiness.

Mentally backtracking, she recalled coming into the cabin and settling into the office so she could steal a few naps in between watching the mare from the remote camera feed. How had she ended up in her bed?

Another knock sounded at the door. She heard a low male voice. Luc Hudson, she remembered and pushed her quilt aside. She glanced at the clock and cringed. Seven a.m. She should have been up by five! Dashing to the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth, then rushed down the hall. She took a turn toward the office.

“Gwen, dear,” Luc called.

She stopped midstep, frowning at the dear. She swung around to look at him. He stood in the doorway backlit and looking wide-eyed and perfectly awake. She tried not to snarl.

A man she’d never seen before craned around him and lifted a camera, taking a half-dozen shots as she stared in surprise. Luc shoved the door closed and strode toward her.

“They’re already here,” he said.

“Who?” she asked, craving a cup or ten of coffee. “And how did I end up—”

“We don’t have time. We’ll have to talk later.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “Put this on,” he said, pulling a jeweler’s box from his pocket and opening it. Lifting the large solitaire with a diamond-studded band, he caught her left hand and pushed the ring onto her finger.

Gwen gaped at the ring, shocked at how well it fit. “How did you know—”

“Pretend you’re madly in love with me,” he said and tugged her toward the front door.

“But what—”

“The paparazzi,” he said and opened the door.

Gwen immediately heard a dozen clicks from the camera. “When did you and Luc Hudson get involved?” another man asked. “And what’s going on with your sister, Nicki?”

Luc slid his arm around her waist. “Gotta give you guys credit. You’re the first. You make it damn hard to keep a relationship private.” He turned toward Gwen and dipped his head. “I think they’ve caught us, sweetheart, ” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

Gwen blinked in surprise at the sensation of his lips on hers. Hearing the click of the camera reminded her of her role, Luc’s adoring fiancée. She deliberately melted against him and lifted her hand to his bicep. His kiss felt both foreign and natural. His body was warm and strong, his hand at her back firm and persuasive. His mouth lingered, catching her off guard, but she recovered, ducking her head into his shoulder.

“So shy. Listen, why don’t you come back later? We can show you the horse we rescued yesterday. She’s pregnant.”

“Gwen’s pregnant?” the reporter asked.

Gwen felt as if she’d been slapped. “No,” she said immediately in a sharp voice. “The horse is pregnant. Not me.”

“Okay,” the reporter said, sounding disappointed. “Let me get a shot of the rock. Everyone likes to see the ring.”

Gwen raised her hand and stared at the unfamiliar ring on her finger.

“Cool, you look like you can’t believe it,” the reporter said.

The man had no idea, Gwen thought and plastered a pleasant expression on her face.

He glanced at Luc. “You’ll let us shoot some film?”

“It’ll make you understand even more why I fell for her.”

The photographer glanced at Gwen. “As if you needed a reason,” he said. “Hollywood misses you, Gwen.”

Gwen smiled, amused by how glamorous she didn’t look with zero makeup, hair that hadn’t been brushed and sleepy eyes. Good thing she didn’t give a rip. “You’re too kind.” She wrapped her hand around Luc’s bicep. “There’s a diner in town if you’re hungry.”

“Okay,” the reporter said. “You promise you won’t go anywhere?”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Luc assured the man.

The reporter nodded. “This is gonna be great. So, I’m Tripp and this is Gordon.” Both men exchanged hand-shakes with her and Luc. “See you in an hour.”

“Two would be better,” Luc said.

“Okay,” Tripp said reluctantly. “Two hours, but not one minute more.”

The two men ran to their car and exchanged a high five before getting in and leaving. Disgusted, Gwen shut the front door and immediately rounded on Luc. “Why did you invite the paparazzi to hang around and shoot film? I don’t want them on the ranch.”

“They won’t be here that long,” he said. “This is perfect. They won’t be focusing their full attention on us.”

“I don’t want this ranch exploited for the almighty sake of Hudson Pictures. This is a beautiful, peaceful, safe place for the horses and—”

“And for you,” Luc interjected. “A safe place for you to hide from the rest of the world.”

Something inside her twisted. His words were like a hot poker fresh from the fire, stabbing at her most vulnerable point. “You have no right to criticize the life I’ve chosen. You have no right to invite these—” she broke off, her frustration growing by the millisecond “—these parasites onto my uncle’s property just because it serves your purpose. After years of working non-stop, my uncle is finally taking that three-week cruise he deserves. I hate to see his reaction when he returns to this mess. Have you thought about what will happen after this? How many more reporters will show up once our photos hit the rag sheets? And after this charade is over, how am I supposed to handle the reporters who keep showing up, asking for an explanation of why you and I broke up?”

Luc met her gaze with infuriating calm. “You can trust me. I’ll handle this.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard that before. Trust me are the two most deadly words in Hollywood.”

“Like you said yesterday, we’re not in Hollywood. I’ve been handling the press for years, Gwen. I can handle them this time, too. If it gets too intense, I’ll bring in some security.”

“Great,” she said, her voice full of sarcasm. “Exactly what I wanted. Security.”

“It’s temporary. And you shouldn’t knock the publicity you’ll get. You’ll get a flood of donations for horse rescue after this airs.”

She sighed, hating that he was right. “I need to get a shower. I don’t know how I ended up in my bed with my clothes still on. Last thing I remembered I was in my office watching the mare on the monitor and—” She stopped, seeing the knowing expression on his face. “Oh, don’t tell me you carried me to bed.”

“I did it for myself. Your head was cradled in your hands. You were going to end up with a helluva neck ache. You’re already difficult enough without anything else added.”

She opened her mouth to retort but couldn’t think of a suitable response. Was she supposed to thank him for his thoughtfulness or rip him to shreds for daring to touch her while she was asleep? She wasn’t accustomed to having anyone watch over her, especially a man such as Luc Hudson.

“I need to know how long this is going to last,” she said. “And don’t tell me ‘however long it takes.’ You know better. I bet you have this planned down to the minute. How long?”

“Barring complications with your sister, thirty to forty-five days,” he said.

Gwen told herself it was just another shoot. Her last shoot.



Two hours later, Luc watched Gwen engage both the reporter and the photographer as she showed them the rescued pregnant horse. “She’s still skittish and afraid, so you’ll need to keep your distance. Isn’t she a beauty?”

Tripp, the reporter, nodded. “She is. Did you know she was pregnant when you rescued her?”

Gwen shook her head. “We didn’t find out until we moved her back to the ranch. Luc stepped right up and helped the firemen with the rescue.”

“Really?” the reporter said, looking at Luc. “Never knew you were a horse lover.”

“You never asked,” Luc said in a deliberately cryptic voice and slid his arm around Gwen’s waist.

Tripp gave a knowing nod. “Trying to impress your lady.”

“It worked,” Gwen said, playing her role well. “But I was impressed before.”

“How did the two of you get involved?”

“We met at an industry function years ago and were reintroduced when Gwen made a trip to L.A. a few months ago. I wasn’t going to let her get away this time.”

“The commute is rough, though. How do you handle it?”

“I have access to a jet. I can get here just about anytime I want.”

“Any chance you’ll lure her back into the movies?” Gordon asked.

Luc immediately felt Gwen stiffen. “I’m a lot more interested in luring her down the aisle.”

“Have you set a date for the big day?” Tripp asked.

“We just got engaged,” Gwen chided, nestling against Luc and looking up at him with such adoration he could understand every one of her nominations. The woman was damn convincing. “We’ve waited a long time to find each other, and we want to enjoy every minute.” She paused a half beat. “Speaking of minutes, I have that appointment in town this afternoon,” she said. “So, you’ll have to excuse us. I really need to be going.”

The photographer began to click photographs at a machine-gun speed. Gwen rose on tiptoe and skimmed her lush lips over his cheek then slid her mouth next to his ear. “Please get rid of them,” she whispered, then nuzzled him again.

“That will be all,” he said to the reporter and photographer. “Gwen and I have other things we need to do.” He slid his hand down Gwen’s arm to catch her hand. “I know you appreciate getting this exclusive scoop.”

“More than you know, man. More than you know,” Tripp said and extended his hand. “Thanks for working with us. You won’t be sorry. And good luck with the horse, Gwen. What are you going to name her?”

“I hadn’t—”

“Pyrrha,” Luc said, looking at Gwen as she whipped around to meet his gaze.

“Pyrrha?” she echoed.

“Greek mythology. She was a queen.”

“A survivor of the great flood,” she said, her lips curving in a slow but genuine smile as she nodded. He felt a sizzle of connection resonate between them. “I like that.”

Luc heard the rapid-fire click of the camera and felt a surge of annoyance. The media had worn out their welcome. He shook hands with Tripp. “Have a safe trip back to L.A.,” he said and ushered everyone outdoors. He walked Gwen to the cabin.

“Did you manufacture the appointment to get rid of the reporters, or is it real?” he asked.

“It’s real,” she said over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs. “But I was ready for them to leave. In fact, it would have been fine with me if they’d never shown up in the first place.”

“You’ll be glad when you see the donations pouring in for your rescue operation,” he said, wishing he could get a look at her long, lean legs without the benefit of denim covering them.

He closed the door behind them, and she turned to face him. “Why do you care about my rescue operation?”

He shrugged. “It’s a good cause. If you and I are forced into this little charade, you may as well benefit from it.”

She sighed, her eyes full of misgivings. “I just wonder how many donors will be asking for their money back after our so-called engagement is over.”

“We don’t have to give the engagement a dramatic ending. Unlike your—” He broke off when he saw her gaze turn chilly.

“Comments like that are exactly why I hate dealing with the press. If they can’t twist it to suit their purposes, they’ll make something up. Trust me, you know nothing about the reason my marriage broke up.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to go. I don’t want to be late for the kids.”

“Kids,” he echoed.

She raised her hand. “None of your business. You’ve exploited me enough.”

Her accusation jabbed him. He shot out his hand to catch her arm and pulled her back toward him. “Have you forgotten why we’re doing this in the first place?”

She took a deep breath and bit her lip. “Nicki.”

“Yes, Nicki. Do you want the press to crucify her?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “No. The more I think about it, the more I agree with you. I just find the whole paparazzi thing vile.”

“So, it’s not personal,” he said in a wry voice.

“No,” she said. “It’s not personal. You’re actually—” She broke off and shrugged. “Maybe we should start over. Hi, I’m Gwen McCord. It’s nice to meet you.”

He closed his hand over hers. “My pleasure,” he said, playing along. “I’m Luc Hudson. You’re even more enchanting in person than on the big screen.”

She smiled. “Thank you. You’re more helpful than I would have expected one of the Hudsons to be. I realize neither of us is thrilled with our assignment, but starting now I’ll try not to make it more difficult than it already is. Who knows? By the end of this, we may even be friends.”

Nodding, he lifted her hand to his lips, seeing in her eyes a spark of surprise mixed with something else. “To friendship,” he said, but at that moment he decided they would be more than friends.




Four


Whenever Gwen returned from working with the after-school program in drama therapy, she struggled with a clashing sense of satisfaction and grief. If things had turned out differently, her own child would be in preschool now. Peter had demanded, however, that she finish filming before her pregnancy was visible. He’d been unhappy when she’d told him she was pregnant, even going so far as to suggest that she get an abortion so it wouldn’t interrupt the shooting of his movie.

Gwen remembered that moment as if it had happened yesterday. That was when she’d no longer been able to deny that her relationship with Peter was crumbling.

Standing in the foyer of the cabin, she felt her keys slip through her trembling fingers to the floor. She glanced down at her shaking hands, spotting the engagement ring, and took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Food, she needed food. That was the reason she had the shakes, she told herself. She hadn’t eaten anything since morning.

The sound of Luc’s voice was muffled by the closed guest bedroom door. Relieved he wouldn’t see her in her current state, she picked up her keys, shrugged out of her jacket, hung it in the hall closet and went to the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat.

Soup, she decided, pulling a can from the shelves. And peanut butter and honey sandwiches. Not exactly gourmet, but it would fill her up. She would have to toast the bread because it was frozen.

Trying to think about anything except the baby she’d lost years ago, she heated the soup and made two sandwiches just in case Luc was desperate for nourishment.

Her mind flashed back to that day on the set when she’d fallen. The private emergency room, emergency surgery, Peter insisting on complete privacy and secrecy regarding the loss of her pregnancy. Waking up and feeling empty.

“Smells good,” Luc said just steps behind her.

His voice startled her, and she accidentally touched the hot pan with her fingers. Scalding pain singed her fingers, and she drew back, gasping. “Oh, no,” she said.

Luc swore under his breath. “Put your hand under the water,” he said, pulling her to the sink and plunging her hand under cool running water. “Damn, I didn’t mean to surprise you that much,” he said.

Overwhelmed by the combination of pain from her hand and the comfort of his chest at her back, she shook her head. “It’s not your fault. I was thinking about too many things at once. It’s just a little accident.”

“Does this happen often? Burning yourself while cooking?”

“Why?” she asked. “It’s usually food I burn, not myself.”

He nodded. “You get distracted.”

“Yes. There are more important things than food.”

“That’s why you have so many frozen meals ready for the microwave.”

She grimaced. “Okay, you know my secret. Well, one of them,” she amended. She started to pull her hand away from the faucet. “I think I’m better—”

He shook his head. “No. Keep it submerged for another few minutes. I’ll take care of the soup.”

Gwen glanced over her shoulder at Luc as he removed the pot from the burner and poured soup into the two bowls she’d set on the counter. There was a total sense of unreality to this picture. She would have never imagined seeing one of the powerful Hudsons in her kitchen serving soup.

Luc looked up and met her gaze. “You’re staring. Why?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t on my calendar to have Luc Hudson in my kitchen this week, or any other week.”

His lips curved in a half grin. “Just lucky, I guess.”

“Which one of us is lucky?” she shot back. “You or me?”

“Excellent point. On the surface, most men would give an arm or leg or both to be in my position.”

“I hear a but coming.”

“Who wouldn’t want to be stuck in a cabin with the sexiest woman of 2004?”

She groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“Just curious,” he said, his gaze sliding over her sweater. “Do you still have that shirt?”

Feeling his gaze like a touch, she bit her lip. “No, it was just a man’s shirt. Nothing special.”

“Do you know how many men had fantasies about that shirt?”

She felt her cheeks heat. “No, and I don’t want to know.”

“Of course, the fantasies were about removing the shirt,” he continued.

“Which didn’t happen. So you can put that in the unfulfilled-fantasy column.” She turned off the faucet.

“A lot of reality is about unfulfilled fantasy,” he said.

“It can be,” she agreed and glanced at him. “How did you learn that?”

“My position. My brothers call me a PR wizard, but I know the truth. It’s all spin and semantics.” He moved the bowls to the small dining room table and gestured for her to sit.

“Just a minute,” she said and impulsively grabbed a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and scooped a couple of wineglasses from the cabinet. After pulling a corkscrew from a drawer, she brought the sandwiches to the table. She sat down, thinking for a flash of a moment that his gentlemanly manners made her feel more feminine than she had in a long time. “That’s part of the reason I like living here. Not much spin at all. People say what they think. I’ve never felt more at peace.”

He nodded. “How come I haven’t seen a man around to help you enjoy your newfound peace? You must have had some contenders.”

She put the corkscrew on the wine bottle, and he took it from her hands. “Maybe that’s part of the secret to my peace. I could ask you the same question. Isn’t there a woman—” she paused and shot him a sideways glance, unable to conceal a ghost of a smile “—or women back in L.A. who will be devastated by the announcement of your engagement?”

He shot her his version of a sideways glance and shook his head, pulling off the cork and pouring the wine. “I haven’t had a serious relationship in two years. I almost made a big mistake.”

She watched him take a sip. “I bought that wine at the drugstore. The vintage is uncertain at best. But you mentioned mistakes. We all make them. How did you avoid making yours?”

“I don’t run from the truth when it smacks me in the face,” he said, his own face hard with cynicism. “I don’t run from much of anything.”

She could see that his strength was more than skindeep. The knowledge gave her a shiver of awareness she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He aroused her curiosity and made her aware of herself as a woman.

“So, how did the ‘almost’ part happen?” she asked, taking a bite of her sandwich and sipping her soup.

“My brothers say I suffer from rescuing-damsel-in-distress syndrome.”

She smiled. “Pregnant horses included?”

He gave a rough chuckle and met her gaze. She felt something sizzle and hum between them and glanced away. Where was this breathless feeling coming from?

“I met a woman whose car had broken down. One thing led to another. We started seeing each other. She was a part-time actress. I introduced her to some people. I was going to propose,” he said. “Until I found out she’d gotten involved on the sly with a producer I’d introduced to her at a party.”

Gwen grimaced. “Sorry. At least you found out before you got married. That’s more than I can say. I was so young and naive, and Peter gave me the big rush. I was pretty unfocused at that point. I’d done a few commercials and some small parts. He was the exact opposite. He knew exactly what he was going to do and how to get there. He seemed to know exactly what I should do, too.”

“You eventually disagreed.”

Gwen thought of her pregnancy and nodded. “He was willing to sacrifice something I couldn’t.”

“Must have been pretty big to turn you off acting, L.A. and men.”

“It was,” she said, but her discomfort drove her to her feet even though she hadn’t finished eating. “Um, do you want some more soup? Another sandwich?”

He circled her wrist with his fingers as she tried to step away from the table, compelling her to look at him. “I’m good, but you need to eat more. Sit down and finish.”

Gwen took a deep breath, exasperated with herself. During her acting days, she had kissed major movie stars. Why did Luc Hudson bother her so much? She sank into her seat and sipped her soup and ate her sandwich, determined to finish as soon as possible.

“When we took Nicki to rehab, she told us not to call her parents. She said to call you instead,” Luc said.

Gwen stopped midbite then swallowed and nodded. “My father moved to Arizona and hasn’t been in touch. My mother remarried and lives in Malibu. She would be upset by the negative publicity. If it isn’t good news, she doesn’t want to hear it.”

“Life doesn’t always give you roses,” he said.

“Even though you can spin it that way,” she said.

“Right,” he said. “Part of the reason I can spin it is because I face the hard facts head on. Our family has dealt with some tragedy. The death of my grandfather is still difficult. He was the heart, breath and soul of Hudson Pictures. We all want to live up to what he created.”

“Tall order?”

“In more than business,” Luc said. “He was the kind of man who could fill up a room with his personality. He had a huge passion for the business, but he also had a huge passion for my grandmother, and it never seemed to wane. He met and secretly married her during World War II in France. He founded the studio to bring her talents to the big screen. In a strange way, I think all of us are striving to find a love that matches what he and my grandmother had. Hell,” he said, “he may be gone, but my grandmother still loves him.”

“That’s an amazing story,” she said.

“Yeah, and if I weren’t so damn cynical, I might believe the same kind of thing could happen to me. Lightning that lasts.”

She nodded, understanding. “Lightning that lasts,” she echoed. “Maybe it’s harder to be cynical when you see someone who actually had that. Then it’s not a myth.”

He reached his hand toward her hair and pushed a strand away from her face. “Yeah.” He gazed into her eyes for a few seconds, which made her lose her breath.

“You have any cards?” he finally asked.

She glanced away so she could think. “Uh, yes, I do.”

“Let’s play,” he said.

“What?”

“Poker. Strip poker if you’re inclined,” he joked in a deep voice.

“In your dreams,” she said, but she had this terrifying but exhilarating sense that Luc Hudson just might have the ability to talk her out of her clothes. “I need to keep an eye on the mare via the camera.”

“The same way you did last night?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

Nice of him to remind her that she’d fallen asleep so soundly that she hadn’t remembered his carrying her to bed. “I’m not as exhausted tonight.”

“You don’t really plan to stay up all night, do you?”

“No, but—”

“We can play in your office. It’ll make the time pass more quickly.”

He made a good point and Gwen liked card games. She had since she was a child. “Okay, but my clothes are staying on.”

“Does that mean you want me to take mine off?”

The mix of humor and sensuality slipped past her defenses and sent a shimmer of awareness all the way through her body. “No,” she said, although an image of Luc, naked, immediately shot through her mind, making her feel singed. “I’ll get the cards.”

“I’ll bring the wine.”

“I’ll fix some coffee,” she countered, thinking the combination of wine and Luc Hudson could be dangerous. She grabbed the cards and led the way into the small office. She looked at the monitor and saw the mare moving around the stall.

“She’s getting stronger,” Luc said from behind her.

“Yes. That means we’ll probably have to let her out into the paddock soon.” Gwen shuffled the cards and dealt them.

Distracted by the sight of his hands cradling his hand of cards and his long legs stretched out across from hers, she tried to concentrate on her own cards.

“Maximum bet is twenty-five cents. Maximum raise fifty cents. I bet fifteen cents. What’s your favorite color?” he asked, drawing a card from the pile.

“Um, periwinkle. Why do you ask?” She looked at her cards and tried not to reveal her disappointment. “I’ll see your fifteen cents.”

“Because the media showing up tomorrow have decided it would be cute to give each of us a quiz about the other.”

Gwen glanced away from her cards. “Media tomorrow? We just did that today. I thought the other interviews would be over the phone.”

He shook his head, discarded two cards and drew two from the pile. “I need to know everything about you, and you need to know everything about me. I’ll bet twenty-five cents.”

She sighed in frustration. “Okay, so blue is your favorite color,” she began.

“What makes you say that?”

“When asked to name his favorite color, almost every man on the planet will say blue.”

“Mine is green,” he said.

“You’re just being contrary,” she said.

“Romantic,” he countered. “Your eyes are green.”

“Borderline sappy,” she said, discarding and drawing.

“Where do you want to honeymoon?” he asked.

The question jolted her. “Honeymoon?”

“Tahiti or Bali?” he said, discarding and drawing.

“Somewhere more private,” she mused. “Peter took me to Hawaii. I found out later that he leaked our plans to the press so they would show up to take photos.”

Luc met her gaze. “Really?” he said in disbelief.

“Yeah,” she said. “All about the PR.”

“Not on your honeymoon,” he said.

“You can’t tell me that you’ve never exploited the honeymoon angle,” she said, discarding three of her sorry cards and drawing three more sorry cards. “Check.”

“Maybe, but the couples who are really in love just tell me to take a flying—” He broke off, suddenly reaching the conclusion that Gwen had reached for herself.

Silence fell between them.

“You have my sympathy,” he said.

Her pride stung, she raised her chin. “Don’t you dare pity me for what Peter—”

“Because you’re going to lose this hand,” he interjected, laying his full house on the table.

She stared at his cards then hers. One card shy of a full house, she scowled at him. “Beginner’s luck,” she said. “I’ll get you in the next game.”

He laughed. “In your dreams,” he said and scooped up the cards and shuffled them. “Now you owe me.”

“Owe you what?” she asked. “We were only playing for pennies.”

“Pennies translate into favors,” he said, shuffling again. “You wouldn’t play for clothing, so it’ll have to be favors.”

“Favors,” she echoed. “What do you call this fake engagement? Oh, wait, my mistake. That’s blackmail.”

“Exactly,” he said, presenting the deck for her to cut it. “So we’re playing for favors.”

“What if I win the same number of times you do? Doesn’t that just negate the winnings?”

“That won’t happen,” he said. “But if it did, you would get the same number of favors from me.”

“What if I don’t want any favors from you?”

“You will,” he said, meeting her gaze for a long moment that took her breath away.

“Deal,” she said, determined to teach him a lesson.

For the next two hours, they traded victories and secrets. She learned his favorite music, food, beer and pastimes, and he learned hers. It occurred to her that Luc would know more about her preferences after two days than her husband had known after three years.

“First crush?” she asked, preparing to rack up another win for herself.

“Sara Jameson, fourth grade,” he said.

Gwen stared at him in surprise. “You remember her name? I would have thought you’d have dated so many women that their names would run together.”

He shook his head. “If I’m the master of spin, then don’t you think I know how to create it for myself?”

“Are you telling me the playboy image isn’t real?”

“I create my image, then do what I want,” he said.

“You didn’t really answer my question,” she told him.

“I told you the name of my first crush. We didn’t break up until she moved away, freshman year in high school.”

“Wow, that’s longevity.”

“What about you?”

“I was shy, too tall. It took me a while.”

“You had to grow into those legs,” he said, his gaze sliding over her denim-clad figure.

“Tucker Martin,” she said with a sigh. “He had dimples and blue eyes. He was smart and funny.”

“How long did that last?”

“Oh, it never got off the ground. He didn’t notice me,” she said.

He gave a bark of laughter. “Poor sap. Bet he’s kicking himself down the street these days.” He placed his cards on the table. “Full house, again.”

She mentally swore. “You’re impossible.”

“I work at it,” he said. “You owe me another favor.”

She sighed and glanced at the monitor again. The horse had settled down. “I’ll think about that tomorrow,” she said quoting Scarlett O’Hara. “Time for me to go to bed.” She rose and he did too, standing mere inches from her. “Thanks for the amusement.”

“My pleasure. You need to give me one of my favors now,” he said.

A warning instinct flashed through her. “Why?”

“It’s something I need to know for the interview,” he said, moving closer to her.

She should step away from him, but for just a moment, his closeness felt good. “What?”

He lowered his head closer and closer, taking her breath with each corresponding invasion of her space. “I need to know how you taste.”

He gave her three agonizing seconds to protest or refuse, three seconds to turn back or pull away. But Gwen did none of those sensible things, because she wanted to know how he tasted, too.




Five


“You’ve already kissed me,” she said against his lips, distracted by the texture of his mouth, the sensation of his chest beneath her palm.

“That didn’t count,” he muttered.

Her mind scrambled like electrical circuits gone haywire as he rubbed his mouth over hers. Her body instantly heated and she craved more. She couldn’t remember when she’d felt this way before. Had she ever?

“You taste like honey,” he said in a low voice and slid his tongue over her lips.

Instinctively opening for him, she moved closer so that her breasts pressed against his hard chest. She couldn’t withhold a soft moan.

He slid his powerful thigh between hers, and she felt a shocking spike of need. Distantly, she felt him move her against the wall. It was cool against her back, but he was so warm, so strong, so male. And somehow she knew he could take care of her sexually, maybe in every way. Was that possible?

Her emotions ran from one end of the spectrum to the other. Should she stop? Should she go further?

Luc slid his hand underneath her sweater and wrapped his hand around her waist. The sensation of his hand on her bare skin sent her equilibrium in to a tailspin.

She slipped her hands up to his head, giving in to the urge to plunge her fingers through his hair. His groan was gratifying, and he brushed his hard masculinity against her. Sucking his tongue deeper into her mouth, she savored his taste, savored the sensation of him.

Luc slid one of his hands down to her bottom, guiding her against his hardness while he skimmed his other hand up her rib cage to just below her breasts.

She held her breath, dying for his touch. Her nipples strained against her bra. She fought the forbidden urge to pull off her sweater and feel her naked breasts against his bare chest. Her heart pounded against her ribs.

She felt his hand slide to her back and felt the catch of her bra release. One. Two. Three seconds later, she felt his palm cupping her breast.

Gwen sighed against his mouth.

His thumb brushed her nipple and she gasped.

“You feel so good. So good,” he said, French kissing her again.

He rocked inside the cradle of her thighs, sending a shower of sensations firing through her bloodstream. She was shocked by the carnal need he drew out of her. Images of their bodies, naked and hot, writhing together, singed her mind. She could taste his wanting, his need.

His hand slid underneath her jeans and panties, grasping her naked bottom at the same time she felt him caressing her breast.

“Oh, my—” He broke off and thrust his tongue into her mouth.

His heat pumped up her heat. She gave in to the urge to slide her hands beneath his sweater and feel his smooth, sleek skin.

“You make me so hot,” he said against her mouth and swore. “I haven’t gotten this worked up since I was a teenager.”

She rippled against him, desperately seeking more.

He slid one of his hands between them. Seconds passed and he guided her hand down to touch him intimately. He was large and hard. She stroked him, driven by his desire, by her desire to please him.

His breath caught, and she loved that he was just as affected as she was.

“Are you sure you want this?”

His voice whispered over her like a warm California breeze. Did she want this? Should she? How crazy was this?

“Too fast,” she said breathlessly when a drop of rational thinking trickled into her brain. She pushed away from him and shook her head. “Too crazy. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

He covered her mouth with his hand. “No apologies, ” he said, and she was compelled to look at him. She felt the searing connection with him again, and fought it, again.

“We’ll be lovers,” he said with a confidence that should have sounded arrogant but instead was just rock-hard certain. “It’s just a matter of time.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips over her cheek. “Sweet dreams, Gwen,” he said and walked away.

Gwen stood there for several breathless seconds. “Oh, wow,” she whispered and slid her fingers through her hair, clutching her head and closing her eyes. She racked her brain for when she’d felt this way before, but her brain would produce nothing.

She and Luc were from different worlds now. She should not give in to temptation, but she didn’t know if she could let him pass by. The combination of his honor and his pragmatic understanding of Hollywood that meshed with the masculinity and power he emanated fascinated her. Gwen had the feeling that once she gave herself to him, she would never be the same, and she wasn’t sure what her world would look like after she made love with him. Should she resist? Could she?



The next morning, Luc joined Gwen as she cared for the horses. She spent extra time with the expectant mare, now known as Pyrrha.

Pyrrha pricked up her ears when Luc stood at the door to her stall, and she walked toward him. “Hello, beautiful,” he said to her, holding out his palm.

Pyrrha whinnied and allowed him to stroke her. Feeling Gwen’s gaze on him, Luc looked at her. Irritation furrowed her lovely face. “Problem?” he asked.

“I can’t believe it,” she said.

“What?”

“Even the horse recognizes that whole alpha thing in you,” she said.

“Smart horse,” he said and grinned.

She met his gaze and clearly tried, very hard, not to smile. Her lips twitched and she began to laugh. “You’re terrible.”

“I can show you terrible,” he said, ready to show her.

She inhaled quickly and glanced away, looking at Pyrrha. “She’s looking much better. The vet says the baby’s heartbeat is strong. I just hope we can keep her happy during her confinement.”

“I’m sure you’ll have to name that foal, so you may as well start planning.”

Gwen sighed and met his gaze. “You make it seem possible.”

She made him want to make her believe in a lot of things. Himself. Herself. Luc wondered if his knight instinct was kicking in. It didn’t matter. He wanted her and was determined to have her.

Three hours later, a crew from Entertainment TV showed up with cameras and a reporter. The reporter, a brunette named Trina with big breasts and hair extensions, appeared torn between her awe of Gwen and her hopes of making an impression on Luc for career purposes.

After a few general questions, Trina gave a huge smile. “I’ve saved the best for last. I want to ask Gwen some questions about you and ask you some questions about Gwen. We’ll see who wins,” Trina said. “Mr. Hudson, go amuse yourself while I ask Gwen some questions.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen asked.

“I don’t want Mr. Hudson to hear your answers until he has answered the same questions. You can go out on the front porch,” Trina said. “This shouldn’t take long.”

Considering the temperature was hovering at nine degrees that day, he hoped it wouldn’t. For a second, he wondered if Gwen would be able to keep up their charade without his presence as a reminder.

She reached out to take his hand and pulled him toward her. Kissing his cheek, she smiled into his eyes as if she really meant it. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t reveal too many of your terrible secrets.”

His gut tightened at her playful, seductive expression, and he forced himself to remember that he was staring into the face of an Academy Award–nominated actress. Luc had learned that actress was another word for liar. Gwen would be fine with Trina.

Throwing on a jacket, hat and gloves, Luc wandered outside to brave the elements. Despite the cold temperature, the sun shone brightly. He walked down the steps of the porch into the yard. Snow crunched beneath his boots.

He inhaled a deep breath and felt the chilly air sweep throughout him. Although the temperature left a lot to be desired, the sound of complete quiet soothed him. No traffic, no office sounds, no senseless chatter. Just quiet and peace.

Gwen made a good point. This place offered something more rare than diamonds. He stood there for several moments and just soaked it in.

“Mr. Hudson?” one of the cameramen called from the doorway. “Trina is ready for you now.”

Struck by the contrast of the purity of Gwen’s surroundings and the lies they were fashioning inside her home, he felt a twist of the same resentment Gwen had expressed when he’d told her the press would be invading her house.

Returning to the house, he sat down and answered Trina’s mostly inane questions. Then the entertainment reporter ambushed him. “What made you fall in love with Gwen?”

He paused a half beat, since he hadn’t formed a prepared response for this question. Then he went with his gut. “You can look at her and see how beautiful she is. That’s obvious. But that’s attraction, not love. She has amazing depth and humility. At the same time she can make me laugh. When I’m with her, the world is better than I thought it could be.”

Complete silence followed for a full moment. Luc glanced at Gwen, standing just a few feet away. He caught an unguarded expression of surprise and longing on her face. He felt the same emotions echo inside him.

Trina put her hand to her chest and gave a big sigh. “How romantic,” she said, snapping him out of his weird emotional state.

He shook his head at himself. This was insane. Sex was one thing, but these other feelings were crazy. The desolation of his environment must be getting to him. Gwen joined him by his side, sliding her hand over his shoulder.

Luc stood, ready for the reporter and cameramen to leave. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “Let me know when it airs.”

Trina also stood and raised crossed fingers. “Tomorrow night if everything goes okay and we can’t scrounge up any emergency scandals.” She shot Luc a coy look. “There will be a little surprise for you, too,” she said.

“Really,” he said, cautious. Luc had learned not to like surprises when it came to the press.

Gwen squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry. She’s just teasing you.”

When Trina and the cameramen left, Gwen closed the door behind them and turned to meet Luc’s gaze. “I thought you said you weren’t much of an actor. You did pretty well with that last question Trina pulled on you.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice thinking on my feet,” he said. “I just answered the question as if I were a man who believed in real love for myself. As if I were a man who had fallen in love with you.”

She gave a wry smile and walked toward him. “Sounds like acting to me.”

“It wasn’t that difficult,” he said, unable to take his eyes off her.

She visibly inhaled. “For some reason, it’s getting easier for me to pretend that I’m attracted to you.”

He chuckled. “That’s because you’re not pretending,” he said. “You are attracted to me just as I’m attracted to you. There’s something between us. I didn’t expect it, and I’m betting you didn’t either, but it doesn’t erase the fact that it’s there.”

“Lust, sex,” she said.

He gave in to the urge to pull her against him. “We’ll figure it out.”

The following day a delivery truck arrived while Luc was on the phone, arranging for publicity for another Hudson movie. He walked to the door and noticed Gwen returning from the barn to the house. She stared at the truck, then at him.

“Just a few things since I’m going to be here for another week and a half,” he said. The driver began to unload several large boxes.

Gwen scooted past the driver and looked at the boxes suspiciously. “What things?” she asked.

“While I’m beginning to appreciate the peacefulness of your surroundings, your technology is archaic,” he said. “That television is at least ten years old, and your Internet is too slow.” No sooner had the driver finished bringing in the boxes when Luc spotted a van turning into the long driveway.

“Roberts Satellite and Television Setup.” Gwen read the words on the side of the van, staring at him in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? We already have satellite TV.”

“This is better, more powerful, more stations.”

“I don’t need more stations,” she said.

“I do. Football, basketball,” he said.

“Oh, this is ridiculous. I’m afraid to ask the size of the dishes. You just need to remember to take all this stuff with you when you leave.”

“No problem,” he said. “But I bet you’ll want to keep them. Once you get used to having something good, you don’t want to give it up. Speaking of something good, two of those boxes contain food. Do you mind unpacking them while I deal with the satellite guy?”

“Food,” she said, her eyes rounding. She opened her mouth in protest and seemed to think better of it. She bit her lip. “Are you saying you don’t want peanut butter sandwiches and soup every night?”

“Do you?”

“Okay, okay,” she grumbled, and began to open the food boxes.



Hours later, with the new widescreen TV ready for action, Luc turned on the set just before Entertainment TV was scheduled. He would study the interview to see what adjustments he and Gwen would need to make for future appearances.

He glanced around for Gwen but didn’t see her. “Gwen,” he called. “We need to watch the interview.”

“I’m watching Pyrrha,” she called from her office. “She seems a little restless.”

Frowning, he walked to her office doorway. “Take a break from it. We need to study the interview to remember what’s been said and to plan for the next one.”

“I remember what I said,” she replied, her eyes glued to her computer screen.

“Yes, but you need to remember what I said, too,” he said, moving closer and glancing over her shoulder. “Pyrrha is eating. She looks fine.”

Kicking her foot in what looked like a case of nerves, she met his gaze. “I don’t like to watch my performances.”

He’d heard this before, but he wondered what the nerves were about. “This is different. It’s an interview.”

“Still a performance,” she said.

He spun her chair around and looped his hand around her wrist and dragged her out of the chair. “It won’t last that long.”

“I really don’t—”

An uneasy suspicion grew in Luc’s gut as he tugged her down on the couch in front of the television. “What exactly did you tell that reporter?”

She shrugged but evaded his gaze. “I just did my part to add a little kick to the proceedings.”

His suspicion roared. “What the hell—”

“She may not even use it,” Gwen said.

“Gwen?” he said in a quiet voice that he reserved as an unmistakable warning of his displeasure.

She bit her lip but shook her head. “If you’re going to make me sit here and watch it, then you’re just going to have to wait and see it for yourself.”

“I don’t like surprises,” he said.

“We’re even. I don’t like watching myself on the screen. Any screen.”

A photo of Luc and Gwen flashed across the screen, interrupting their discussion. “Stay tuned. Our very own Trina Troy braved the cold Montana mountains to get the hot lowdown on movie star turned horse rescuer Gwen McCord and Hudson Pictures’ hottest bachelor of the moment, Luc Hudson,” said the cheery host of Entertainment TV.

“Do you think Trina Troy is a real name?” Gwen asked.

“No chance,” he muttered and brooded for a long moment.

Both rose almost in unison.

“I’m getting a be—”

“I’m getting a glass of wine.”

They both spoke at once.

Gwen shot a quick, uneasy smile and squeezed past him to the refrigerator. He followed her to the fridge, and she pulled out a beer and thrust it into his hand. “Here.”

“You seem a little jumpy,” he said.

She grabbed a bottle of wine and poured a glass. “I’d forgotten how intense the paparazzi can be. Or maybe I just chose to forget.” She took a sip and licked her lips. “I’m also not used to having someone around the house all the time.”

Luc found his attention snagged by the sight of her pink tongue sliding over her lips. He pushed back a stray strand of her hair just because he wanted to touch her. “Am I bothering you?”

She took another quick sip. “Bother.” She rolled the word around her mouth as if to test it. “Yes,” she said. “And you should stop it right away.”

He chuckled. “Can’t do that. In fact, I plan to bother you more.”

She shot him a dark, sexy look that almost distracted him from the shrill voice of the Entertainment TV reporter.

“We’re back now with Trina Troy, who is going to tell us how Luc Hudson is keeping Gwen McCord hot under the covers during those cold Montana nights.”

Luc shot a quick glance at the screen, then looked at Gwen. “Hot under the covers?” he echoed, catching her hand and tugging her toward the sofa.

“Not my words,” she said.

“Entertainment TV paid a visit to Luc Hudson and Gwen McCord at her Montana ranch. The two lovebirds were willing to play a little game of favorite things with me.”

The tape played, showing Gwen smiling as she answered the reporter’s questions about Luc’s favorites. The camera, as usual, loved her, catching her expressions of delight and a tinge of shyness. Her hair shimmered and her skin glowed. She looked like a woman in love. She played the part so well he could almost believe her himself.

“This could be the real deal. Look at what Luc Hudson has to say about Gwen,” Trina said, introducing the shot of him talking about what had made him fall in love with Gwen.

He bought his line, surprised at the way the camera caught the chemistry between him and Gwen.

“We asked Gwen the same question, and she said Luc has a deep-seated sense of honor that won her over. But look at what else she said.”

“Here it comes,” Gwen murmured and took another sip of wine.

The film played. “What made me fall in love with Luc?” Gwen echoed and tilted her head to one side as if she were concentrating on the question. “Besides the obvious superficial things such as how hot he is and how his great body comes in handy for a lot of things including rescuing horses and picking me up when I fall.” She gave a sexy chuckle. “There’s the fact that he is amazing in bed,” she said. “Amazing.”

Shocked, Luc turned to look at Gwen. “What in hell—”

“I had to stall,” she said, shrugging helplessly. “That question wasn’t on the list. I wasn’t prepared for it. And you know what they say. Sex sells.”

His cell phone began to ring and he swore. “Do you realize how much heat I’m going to take for this? My family, my business associates.” He picked up the phone and spit out his name. “Luc Hudson.”

“Mr. Hudson, I’m with Hottie Magazine, and we wondered if you would consider doing a centerfold spread for—”

“No, but thank you very much,” he said and turned off the phone. He turned to Gwen as she attempted to ease her way out of the room. “Not so fast. You’ve just created my headache of the week.”

“Sorry,” she said with a slight wince. “But you did say you wanted a distraction from Nicki’s problems, and…” Her voice trailed off as he walked toward her.

“And?” he said.

She gave a nervous chuckle. “And better you than me.”




Six


Better you than me.

Seeing the light of challenge in Luc’s eyes, Gwen immediately got the uneasy feeling she’d made a big mistake.

“Maybe we’ll just have to make sure you know what you’re talking about when you describe me as ‘amazing in bed,’” he said, brushing his muscular body against her.

Gwen felt a ridiculous weakening in her knees and tried to stiffen them.

Luc met her gaze, then leisurely glanced down her body the same way she imagined he would move his hands over her. He made her burn, just by looking.

He raised his finger to her cheek, skimmed it down to her mouth and lingered there before he slid that same finger over her chin and down her throat to where her pulse raced.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” he asked in a low, mocking voice that made her nerve endings oversensitive. He dipped his finger still lower between her breasts. “You’re breathing fast, too. Signs of arousal?”

The way he touched her tempted her. She liked the feeling of his hand on her, the promise it made, the promise his eyes made. He was so solidly male, and he made her more sensually aware of herself than ever before. He made her aware of her femininity deeper than just in her skin, or even into her bones, it seemed to permeate to a cellular level.

How could this be anything but a big mistake? She took a deep breath. Fighting the urge to give in to her own urges, she grabbed his wrist and stared at it. His skin was darker than hers, his hands much larger. His muscles flexed beneath hers, but he didn’t pull away from her.

“I don’t want to be stupid,” she whispered.

“I will make you feel a lot of things, Gwen. Stupid isn’t one of them.”

She took another deep breath, willing the need to go further with him to lessen. It didn’t, but she was relieved that he wouldn’t use her weakness for him against her.

“I won’t take you until you’re ready, but soon enough, you will be,” he said.

That should have sounded arrogant as hell, but Gwen was too close to the edge, too full of wanting to deny the truth. She withdrew her hand from around his wrist and took a step back. She desperately needed the space. “I—uh—I should go check on Pyrrha.”

He nodded with a knowing expression on his face. “You know where to find me.”

Her heart still hammering in her chest, she felt as if she were looking her fate in the eye. She tore her gaze from his and fled to her office, closing the door behind her. She didn’t want this complication in her life right now. She didn’t want to feel this way for a man who was so much a part of the life she’d left behind.

Torn in opposing directions, she looked at the monitor and did a double take. She narrowed her eyes at the screen. “What—” she muttered under her breath, checking for a different view of Pyrrha’s stall, then another.

Her blood ran cold. Oh, no, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t—“Luc,” she yelled, frantic, bursting through the door. “She’s gone, Luc. Pyrrha is gone.”



She and Luc immediately started to search. Dennis instructed them to stay in touch and said he would bring the horse trailer as soon as they called him. It turned out that the barn help hadn’t completely closed the door to Pyrrha’s stall and the horse had literally walked out the door.

It was pitch-black, bitter cold, and snow fell sideways owing to the raging wind.

Luc decided to use an ATV to follow Gwen’s Lab, June, as the dog searched for Pyrrha’s scent. Gwen was worried out of her mind. “She wasn’t ready for this,” she said to Luc. “She hadn’t rested enough. Her scrapes hadn’t healed.”

“We’ll find her,” he said, focusing on the dark, icy terrain.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because we’re both too hardheaded not to find her,” he said and spared her a quick glance.

His confidence quieted her panic to a dull roar inside her. It felt as if they were crawling behind June. Every moment seemed to take forever.

After an hour, Luc gave June some water and put slippers on the dog to protect her paws. Their breath left visible vapor trails in the air. He turned to Gwen. “It’s too cold out here. I’ll call Dennis to take you back to the house.”

She shook her head vehemently. “No, I’m okay.”

“Gwen—”

She shook her head again. “Really, I’m okay. Being beside you is keeping me warm,” she admitted.

“Okay,” he conceded reluctantly. “A little longer.”

They continued on for another twenty-five minutes and Luc stopped the ATV. He touched her cold nose. “I can’t let you stay out here any longer.”

“I’m f-fi—” She broke off, appalled that her chattering teeth revealed how chilled she was.

“That’s it,” he said.

June raced ahead, barking loudly.

Gwen’s heart raced in hope. “She’s f-found something. We have to follow her.”

Luc followed the lab to a small wooded area and killed the engine. He helped Gwen out of the ATV and grabbed a rope and halter. “You sure you can do this?”

She nodded emphatically, but silently, because she didn’t want him to hear her teeth chattering again. Stepping into the footsteps he created in the snow, she followed him into the woods. June continued to bark, and she could hear a scrambling sound.

“Sounds like June has cornered something,” Luc said.

Less than a moment later, they heard a neigh. He stopped to listen, and another neigh sounded. Glancing back at Gwen, he nodded with a smile and offered her his hand. “That dog deserves a steak when we get back.”

“Sh-she’ll get it,” Gwen said, hanging on to Luc as he picked up his pace. Meandering through the trees, they stopped when they found Pyrrha trapped between two trees with a stone wall at her back and June guarding her escape. Gwen immediately called Dennis on her cell phone to give him their location.

“Ho,” Luc said and approached the horse.

Pyrrha pricked up her ears at the sound of his voice. Gwen held her breath, fearing the horse would bolt and run.

Talking in a soothing voice, Luc continued his steady approached and lifted the halter to her nose. Pyrrha backed away, but her hindquarters quickly encountered the wall.

Pulling an apple from his pocket, Luc offered the fruit to Pyrrha. She tentatively walked forward, sniffing. Gwen watched in amazement as the horse took the apple from his hand. He’d known exactly how to handle the wild, frightened horse. She couldn’t help wondering if his instincts extended to human women, specifically her. Luc tossed the rope over Pyrrha’s head.

Relief gushed through Gwen like a waterfall. Even though she knew they still had to get Pyrrha safely back to the barn, she had a strong sense that the horse would be okay.

An hour later they had settled Pyrrha into her stall with fresh hay, fresh water and a warming light. Maybe it was crazy how she continued to identify with the pregnant horse, but Gwen felt more protective of Pyrrha and her baby than ever.

Luc moved beside her. “Dennis says the vet will visit in the morning. You should go back to the house and get some rest.”

She shook her head. “I’m sleeping right here tonight. I’ve got a cot.”

“You’re crazy. I bet you’re dehydrated. You’re just setting yourself up to get sick.”

“I’ll be okay. I’m stronger than I look,” she said and smiled. “My teeth stopped chattering within five minutes of when we arrived at the barn.”

He gave a sigh of disapproval. “Okay, have it your way. I’ll stay, too.”

Strange feelings trickled through her. Gwen had been counting on some time away from Luc to regain her sense and defenses. At the moment, she was overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions—gratitude, vulnerability…and a craving to be close to him that she knew she should ignore.

“That’s not necessary,” she said. “Besides, there’s only one cot and I’m using it.”

He shrugged. “I know you have some extra blankets and sleeping bags because I saw them in the storage room.”

Her energy seeping out of her with each passing moment, she raised her hands. “Okay, but don’t blame me when you end up with a backache.”

Luc grabbed the cot, along with a couple of sleeping bags and blankets, and brought them next to Pyrrha’s stall. He joined Gwen at the stall door. She was leaning against the side, her head already bobbing from fatigue. “You’re doing it again,” he said in a low voice, skimming his finger underneath her chin.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she jerked her head upward. “I’m fine. I’m not—”

“Let’s take turns. You rest, I’ll watch.”

She rubbed her eyes with a weary motion. “I should say no. She’s not your responsibility.”

Luc couldn’t explain why he felt protective of both Gwen and Pyrrha, but their combination of defiance and vulnerability got under his skin. “Just rest.”

Hesitant, she glanced at Pyrrha, then back at him. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Her eyes softened, making his gut do strange things. “Thanks,” she said. “For everything.”

“No problem,” he said and locked gazes with her for a moment. The hint of longing in her eyes echoed inside him.

Deliberately looking away, she turned to the cot, spread out a sleeping bag on top and crawled inside it. Her moan sounded sensual even though he knew she was dead tired and she wasn’t making the sound from sexual pleasure.

Within seconds, he heard her breathing soften to the rhythm of sweet sleep. He took the opportunity to study her while she slept and felt like a thief.

He looked at her stubborn chin and wondered if her marriage to Peter Horrigan was what had made her so independent minded. She resisted his help at nearly every turn. He wondered what it would be like to have her trust. Luc sensed that Gwen’s trust would be a precious thing, her love even more so.

Love? Where had that thought come from? Frowning, he looked away, glancing at Pyrrha. The horse’s head dipped as she snoozed. “I bet you’re tired,” he murmured. “You caused some excitement tonight.”

Her eyes flickered open and she looked around, then gazed at Luc; then she closed her eyes again. Luc had the odd sense that the horse trusted him, and it gave him an even odder sense of satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He glanced at Gwen again. She was easy to watch. She would be easy to hold, but holding wouldn’t be enough. Luc wanted her in the most primitive way possible, and soon enough he would have her in his bed.



Gwen felt as if she were trying to swim up from deep in the ocean. She could see the surface, but something kept her from breaking through. She blinked her eyes and finally awakened, fighting a spurt of panic. It took her a full moment to figure out where she was and why. The barn, she realized, inhaling the fresh scent of hay.

She glanced toward Pyrrha’s stall and saw Luc keeping watch, a half-empty bottle of water propped on top of the door. From this angle, his broad shoulders and height were more emphasized than ever. Something inside her calmed as she looked at him.

Inhaling deeply, she slid out of her sleeping bag. Luc turned toward her and raised his finger to his mouth in a signal for her to remain silent, then extended his hand to her. Curious, she accepted his hand, quietly moved beside him and looked inside the stall.

Pyrrha was sleeping on her side in the stall.

Gwen stared at the horse in amazement. She knew that horses wouldn’t lie down unless they felt safe or one of the other horses from the herd was watching over them.

She met Luc’s gaze and moved her lips in a silent Wow. He nodded with a slight smile on his face. She pointed to her watch and mouthed, How long?

“About thirty minutes,” he whispered.

Gwen watched the horse giving in to total rest and drank in the moment of pure peace. Luc slid his arm around her, inviting her to lean against him, and she did. Rubbing her cheek against his jacket, nestled in his embrace, she couldn’t remember a time when everything in the world had felt more right.

As if they both knew how extraordinary this moment was, she and Luc stood in silence for the next quarter of an hour. Pyrrha finally stirred and rose to her feet. She looked in Luc’s direction, as if to make sure he’d kept watch over her, then strolled around her stall.

“Amazing,” Gwen said.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I’m starting to understand why you like it here.”

“Totally different from L.A.”

“It’s all boiled down to the basics,” he said, turning toward her and sifting his fingers through her hair.

His gaze wrapped around her with a primitive possessiveness, and she felt an echoing need inside her. Her heart pounded against her rib cage and she spread her hands over his hard chest, relishing his strength. She knew his strength went deeper than sinewy muscle and bone. There was something in his manner, in his spirit.

He slowly lowered his head, giving her every opportunity to turn away, and took her lips with his. Gwen sighed in relief at the sensation of his mouth on hers, firm yet sensual, taking yet giving. Three heartbeats later, she wanted more.

He pulled his mouth from hers and rubbed it over her hair. He slid one of his hands beneath her open jacket down to the small of her back and pulled her lower body against his. His arousal felt so right against her. He felt so right.

She felt a boundary inside her rip from one end to the other and raised her hands to cradle his head as she drew his mouth to hers.

He crushed her mouth with his, sliding his tongue inside, seeking and seducing. Wanting to feel all of him at once, she grasped for his back, pulling him closer. He made a barely audible growl that vibrated in her mouth.

Pulling back, he looked down at her, his nostrils flaring. “Don’t start anything you don’t want to finish,” he said.

She sucked in a shallow breath, waiting for her defenses to rise like stone walls. But the only thing she felt was pure want and need. She wanted him more than she feared his destruction of her.

“I’m not,” she finally said, then issued her own challenge. “What about you?”

His eyes widened slightly at her dare, and he lifted her in his arms. “I’m ready for everything you want to give me.”

Her mouth went desert-dry at the blatant sexual intent in his eyes.

Carrying her to the sleeping bag on the floor, he laid her down, then followed. Taking her mouth in a mind-blowing carnal kiss, he pulled off her jacket and sweater. Her bra seemed to dissolve beneath his hands. She felt a wisp of cool breeze, but he quickly covered her with his body and hands.

Desperate for the sensation of his naked skin, she pulled at his jacket and shirt. He helped her by shrugging off the layers. His golden skin was smoothly muscled and warm. He lowered his hard chest to her breasts, and a sigh of gratification sizzled from both their mouths.

He lowered his mouth to her breasts and an explosive need rocked through her. Undulating beneath him, she slipped her hands between them, tugging at his jeans.

He swore under his breath and rolled to the side so they could finish undressing each other. After he’d shoved down her jeans, he barely let a second pass before covering her again with his body.

“I want to touch you everywhere at once,” he muttered against her throat as he caressed his way down to her breasts. He drew one of her nipples into his mouth at the same time that he slid his fingers between her legs, immediately finding where she was wet and swollen for him.

“You feel so good. Got to have you,” he said and pushed her legs far apart. Lifting her hands above her head, he stared at her for a moment, and she felt as if lightning snapped between them.

Aching for all of him, she lifted her hips and he thrust inside her, filling her completely. She was still for a moment, absorbing the exquisite intimacy of his flesh encased in hers. She felt as if her very soul was entwined with his.

Then he began to rock in a delicious rhythm that took her higher and higher. The coil of excruciating tension inside her grew tighter with each breath she took. She moved in echoing counterpart to his thrusts. When he bent down and his chest meshed with hers and he took her mouth in a kiss, her heart and body were overwhelmed. She went up and over the edge, convulsing in waves of pleasure.

A heartbeat later, he took one last searing thrust and his release shook his powerful body, sending a vibration all the way to her core.

Their harsh breaths were the only sound in the quiet barn. Gwen’s heart and mind raced. No man had ever inspired such passion in her, not even her ex-husband. Neither had she ever felt such a bone-deep connection with another human being.

The reality thrilled her at the same time that it terrified her. Suddenly she was sure of nothing except the fact that Luc Hudson had blown her safe little world to smithereens.




Seven


Luc rolled to his side and pulled Gwen flush against him. His blood finally traveled from his crotch to his brain. That had been stupid as hell. Sure, he’d been determined to have her, but he hadn’t planned to take her without protection. A woman like Gwen, she had to be on the Pill, he thought. She was too beautiful, too sexual not to have a backup plan. Surely she’d had other men since her divorce…

The idea left a bitter taste in his mouth. Irrational, he told himself. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy the woman. She was different. Good different. He slid his fingers through her silky hair and relished the sensation of her breasts against his chest, her breath on his throat. He wanted her again.

He reined in his carnal urges. Barely. “As pleasurable as this was and as much as I want to repeat it immediately, I’d rather have you in a real bed.”

She gave a low husky chuckle that tickled his skin and wiggled against him. “Not a bad idea. I’m with you. A mattress is much better than the ground. Maybe it’s something about turning thirty.”

“Speak for yourself. I got over sleeping on the floor by the time I turned twenty-five.”

“That’s because you’re a spoiled Hudson,” she said, rubbing her face against his chest as if she couldn’t resist drowning herself in him.

Something in his gut twisted. “I’m not spoiled. I work my ass off.”

She slid her hand over his bottom. “Feels like it’s still there to me,” she said in a wicked voice.

He gave a short laugh and tilted her head up so he could look into her green gaze. “You are amazing.”

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Who, me?”

He shook his head. “How can you not know? You’ve been named sexiest woman of the year.”

She pulled back slightly. “Is that why you wanted me?”

“No,” he said without hesitation. “I want you—” He broke off and shook his head. “I can’t even say all the reasons. For a man who makes his living knowing the right things to say, that’s crazy, isn’t it?”

She exhaled and leaned against him as if she trusted him. “That sexiest woman of the year was wearing a ton of makeup and fake eyelashes for that photo shoot. They put highlighter on the tops of my boobs and positioned me so I squeezed my breasts together to create more cleavage. Fake tan and highlighter on my thighs. Fake me. This is the real me.”

“I like it,” he said. “I want more. If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll forget that we’re lying on sleeping bags in a barn and I’ll take you again.”

She ran her tongue over his lips in a provocative motion that made him grow harder. “Would that be so bad?”

Swearing under his breath, he pulled her on top of him and positioned her over his aching hardness. She slid down, taking him fully inside her.

He moaned in pleasure. Sliding his hands over her round derriere, he flexed his pelvis upward. She sank down and rose above him, then slid down again.

Her breasts brushed his chest. He wanted more, more more… She rose again, her breasts swaying inches from his face. Reaching upward, he took one of her nipples into his mouth. She tasted so sweet and felt like liquid sex, squeezing him, milking him.

He gave in to the erotic motion, devouring her shudders of pleasure, plunging into her. It didn’t take long before the tension inside him became almost painful.

She kept riding him, and it was as if she was determined to squeeze his release from him with her delicious velvet femininity. Luc arched against her in a mind-blowing climax. He should have been done. But he wanted more of her.



The next morning Gwen awakened from a short nap with gritty eyes and a sense of being alive that she hadn’t felt in forever. She turned over the care of Pyrrha to a trusted worker and arranged for a sign to be posted in-structing that the mare’s door remain shut. On the way back to the house, Luc’s cell phone began to ring. After listening to the caller, he shot Gwen a dark look.




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