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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 handshakes 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 thought fulness 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.