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

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?”