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

“It’s not my favorite thing either,” he said.

“How can we be involved? Having an affair in this situation? It’s insane. Is it just convenience?”

Luc gave a rough laugh. “I’d say my feelings for you are damn inconvenient. Maybe yours for me are, too. Do you really want to turn your back on them?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do.”

He stood there, looking at her, making her feel as if he could read her like a book, making her feel as if he knew the truth about how much she wanted him.

“I do want to turn my back on my feelings for you,” she admitted. “But I can’t.”

After the charity party, Luc and Gwen spent five days in near seclusion and Luc loved every minute of it. He was surprised at how much he liked being away from the insanity of L.A. Both he and Gwen knew, however, that the time was coming when they would need to go to L.A. and make appearances.

Luc conducted a conference call with his father and two brothers, along with his assistant so he wouldn’t need to duplicate his efforts. The call lasted until 6:00 p.m. He expected to find Gwen in the kitchen, thawing and reheating a meal his chef had sent, but she was nowhere around.

Pulling on his jacket, hat and gloves, he walked to the barn and found her in a stall with an elderly gelding. She stroked his neck and spoke to him in a soft, sweet voice.

He felt an overwhelming desire for more of her. He wanted more of her sex, more of her laughter, more of her trust. The strength of his passion seemed to ratchet upward with each passing day. At some point it would abate. It had to. Until then, he was determined to have her in every way possible.

Watching her pet the horse for a moment longer, he moved closer to the stall door.

She must have heard his movement because she looked over her shoulder at him. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi. Who do we have here?”

Gwen looked up at the black gelding. “Fred. I’ve spent more Friday and Saturday nights with this guy than any other since I moved to Montana. He was my first rescue, and he’d been so abused that the vet didn’t think he would survive. But he did.”

“Does he know all your secrets?” Luc asked.

She smiled. “Quite a few. Fred’s an excellent listener. No judgment, just nods and snorts every now and then.” She met Luc’s gaze. “We have to go to L.A. soon, don’t we?”

Hearing the note of dread in her voice, he nodded and entered the stall. “What are you afraid of?”

She bit her lip. “Being asked questions I don’t want to answer.”

“That’s easy,” he said. “You just practice a prepared response and change the subject to what you want to promote.”

She watched him silently as if she didn’t believe him.

“You’re worried about questions about your ex-husband and your marriage.”

“They keep digging. No matter what I tell them, they keep digging.”

He heard an undercurrent of pain, and his instincts went on alert. “Is there something I should know?”

“No,” she said quickly and turned away from him.

She was hiding something. “You should tell me,” he said. “It’s always better to be prepared.”

“It’s not that easy,” she said. “And it’s not something I discuss with anyone.”

He inclined his head toward the horse. “Including Fred?”

“Fred won’t tell,” she said, her lips twitching slightly. “And he always takes my side.”

He walked to her and pulled her against him. “Thank goodness Fred can’t do everything. You’ll enjoy this trip to L.A. Shopping, massages, spa rituals, all that girl stuff. Good food and most importantly…”

“The press junket,” she said miserably.

“No,” he said. “Me.”

She smiled. “Are all the Hudsons as insufferably secure as you are?”

“It helps when you’re born into the family,” he said, guiding her out of the stall. “You understand your place and purpose.”

“And yours is?”

“Problem solver,” he said.

She stopped, raising her hand to his jaw. “Mr. Fixit,” she said. “Do you ever want to take a break from it?”

“I’ve done that here,” he said. “For the first time in what feels like forever.”

“But you haven’t taken a break,” she said. “You rescued Pyrrha twice, and you’ve made appearances.”

“It didn’t feel the same,” he said, still figuring out what that meant for him.

“So maybe you’re not Mr. L.A. after all,” she teased.

“We’ll see,” he said. “You and I have one more night in no man’s land. Then it’s off to the ‘City of Angels’ and massages and great food. Tell me what you miss about the hood and I’ll make sure we hit everything.”

The following afternoon, they left for the airport and flew via private jet to L.A. Gwen had to admit that flying on a private jet was so civilized compared with commercial air travel. She sat across from Luc and ate fresh fruit and sandwiches. Chocolate truffles were waiting.

Luc worked on his laptop computer and chugged mineral water. “Our first appearance is two days from now,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “Charity for homelessness. Then the next day we’ve been asked to appear on a morning show.”

“If we’re not appearing for two days, why did we leave so early?”

He looked up from his computer. “So you can do a little shopping, get a massage and hopefully we can work in something else.”

“What?” she asked and ate another grape.

“I’ll tell you if I can make it happen.”

“What is it?” she demanded.

He shook his head. “I don’t want you to be disappointed. If I can pull it off, it will happen tonight.”

Gwen glanced down at her jeans, boots and sweater. “Should I be dressed differently?”

He shook his head again. “You’re dressed perfectly for this. When we land, be prepared for a shell game.”

She shook her head. “Oh, my. Luc Hudson, man of intrigue.”

He shot her a mocking look of threat. “This once, just trust me. If this works out, you’ll be pleased.”

“Now you’ve got me dying of curiosity.”

“Eat some chocolate.”

She ate several chocolates. After they landed at the private terminal, Luc told her to remain seated, and she watched the airline attendant and copilot get into a limo.

“Nice ride,” she murmured, watching as a hybrid vehicle approached the jet. “Who is riding in that?”

Luc shot her a mysterious grin. “We are.”

Before they descended the steps, Luc donned a pilot’s cap and the jet lights were dimmed. “Careful on the steps,” he said.

“A masquerade,” she said.

“Not totally,” he said. “I’m licensed to fly, but the car is borrowed. I don’t want it traced to either you or me.”

“Good grief,” she said as he helped her into the small car. Seconds later, he climbed in and pushed the driver’s seat back to allow him to stretch his legs. “Are you sure you haven’t ever worked for the CIA or FBI?”

“The CIA and FBI could take lessons from Hudson Pictures. Relax. This is going to take a while,” he said.

An hour and a half later, after a circuitous route through a residential Beverly Hills neighborhood, a drive down the freeway and another windy ride that seemed to backtrack, Luc pulled into a gated facility.

“New Beginnings,” she said, reading the sign. “Nicki is here. I get to see her!”

He gave his identification to security and nodded. “For a few minutes.”

Her heart squeezed tight in her chest. “Oh, Luc, I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I thought you said they wanted to keep the patients away from everyone, including family.”

“They do for the first week or so. She’s doing well, and her physicians agreed that a visit from you wouldn’t hurt her progress. In fact, they thought it would help. But for her protection and Hudson Pictures’, we didn’t want to publicize your visit.”