the wall.
Pulling an apple from his pocket, Luc offered the fruit to Pyrrha. She tentatively walked forward, sniffing. Gwen watched in amazement as the horse took the apple from his hand. He’d known exactly how to handle the wild, frightened horse. She couldn’t help wondering if his instincts extended to human women, specifically her. Luc tossed the rope over Pyrrha’s head.
Relief gushed through Gwen like a waterfall. Even though she knew they still had to get Pyrrha safely back to the barn, she had a strong sense that the horse would be okay.
An hour later they had settled Pyrrha into her stall with fresh hay, fresh water and a warming light. Maybe it was crazy how she continued to identify with the pregnant horse, but Gwen felt more protective of Pyrrha and her baby than ever.
Luc moved beside her. “Dennis says the vet will visit in the morning. You should go back to the house and get some rest.”
She shook her head. “I’m sleeping right here tonight. I’ve got a cot.”
“You’re crazy. I bet you’re dehydrated. You’re just setting yourself up to get sick.”
“I’ll be okay. I’m stronger than I look,” she said and smiled. “My teeth stopped chattering within five minutes of when we arrived at the barn.”
He gave a sigh of disapproval. “Okay, have it your way. I’ll stay, too.”
Strange feelings trickled through her. Gwen had been counting on some time away from Luc to regain her sense and defenses. At the moment, she was overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions—gratitude, vulnerability…and a craving to be close to him that she knew she should ignore.
“That’s not necessary,” she said. “Besides, there’s only one cot and I’m using it.”
He shrugged. “I know you have some extra blankets and sleeping bags because I saw them in the storage room.”
Her energy seeping out of her with each passing moment, she raised her hands. “Okay, but don’t blame me when you end up with a backache.”
Luc grabbed the cot, along with a couple of sleeping bags and blankets, and brought them next to Pyrrha’s stall. He joined Gwen at the stall door. She was leaning against the side, her head already bobbing from fatigue. “You’re doing it again,” he said in a low voice, skimming his finger underneath her chin.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and she jerked her head upward. “I’m fine. I’m not—”
“Let’s take turns. You rest, I’ll watch.”
She rubbed her eyes with a weary motion. “I should say no. She’s not your responsibility.”
Luc couldn’t explain why he felt protective of both Gwen and Pyrrha, but their combination of defiance and vulnerability got under his skin. “Just rest.”
Hesitant, she glanced at Pyrrha, then back at him. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
Her eyes softened, making his gut do strange things. “Thanks,” she said. “For everything.”
“No problem,” he said and locked gazes with her for a moment. The hint of longing in her eyes echoed inside him.
Deliberately looking away, she turned to the cot, spread out a sleeping bag on top and crawled inside it. Her moan sounded sensual even though he knew she was dead tired and she wasn’t making the sound from sexual pleasure.
Within seconds, he heard her breathing soften to the rhythm of sweet sleep. He took the opportunity to study her while she slept and felt like a thief.
He looked at her stubborn chin and wondered if her marriage to Peter Horrigan was what had made her so independent minded. She resisted his help at nearly every turn. He wondered what it would be like to have her trust. Luc sensed that Gwen’s trust would be a precious thing, her love even more so.
Love? Where had that thought come from? Frowning, he looked away, glancing at Pyrrha. The horse’s head dipped as she snoozed. “I bet you’re tired,” he murmured. “You caused some excitement tonight.”
Her eyes flickered open and she looked around, then gazed at Luc; then she closed her eyes again. Luc had the odd sense that the horse trusted him, and it gave him an even odder sense of satisfaction that he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He glanced at Gwen again. She was easy to watch. She would be easy to hold, but holding wouldn’t be enough. Luc wanted her in the most primitive way possible, and soon enough he would have her in his bed.
Gwen felt as if she were trying to swim up from deep in the ocean. She could see the surface, but something kept her from breaking through. She blinked her eyes and finally awakened, fighting a spurt of panic. It took her a full moment to figure out where she was and why. The barn, she realized, inhaling the fresh scent of hay.
She glanced toward Pyrrha’s stall and saw Luc keeping watch, a half-empty bottle of water propped on top of the door. From this angle, his broad shoulders and height were more emphasized than ever. Something inside her calmed as she looked at him.
Inhaling deeply, she slid out of her sleeping bag. Luc turned toward her and raised his finger to his mouth in a signal for her to remain silent, then extended his hand to her. Curious, she accepted his hand, quietly moved beside him and looked inside the stall.
Pyrrha was sleeping on her side in the stall.
Gwen stared at the horse in amazement. She knew that horses wouldn’t lie down unless they felt safe or one of the other horses from the herd was watching over them.
She met Luc’s gaze and moved her lips in a silent Wow. He nodded with a slight smile on his face. She pointed to her watch and mouthed, How long?
“About thirty minutes,” he whispered.
Gwen watched the horse giving in to total rest and drank in the moment of pure peace. Luc slid his arm around her, inviting her to lean against him, and she did. Rubbing her cheek against his jacket, nestled in his embrace, she couldn’t remember a time when everything in the world had felt more right.
As if they both knew how extraordinary this moment was, she and Luc stood in silence for the next quarter of an hour. Pyrrha finally stirred and rose to her feet. She looked in Luc’s direction, as if to make sure he’d kept watch over her, then strolled around her stall.
“Amazing,” Gwen said.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “I’m starting to understand why you like it here.”
“Totally different from L.A.”
“It’s all boiled down to the basics,” he said, turning toward her and sifting his fingers through her hair.
His gaze wrapped around her with a primitive possessiveness, and she felt an echoing need inside her. Her heart pounded against her rib cage and she spread her hands over his hard chest, relishing his strength. She knew his strength went deeper than sinewy muscle and bone. There was something in his manner, in his spirit.
He slowly lowered his head, giving her every opportunity
