Emily McKay - The Hudson's - Luc, Jack and Charlotte

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.