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
