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