Читать книгу Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement / Tempted Into the Tycoon's Trap - Emily McKay - Страница 11

Within minutes of when Gwen and Luc had arrived at the rescue site, Gwen knew she’d underestimated Luc Hudson. Standing at the edge of the pond with freezing water rising to the tops of his boots, he used a chainsaw to break up the ice that covered most of the pond.

Gwen’s apprehension rose with each passing second. As soon as the chill overtook the mare, the horse would lose a lot of her fight and the job of rescuing her would grow more difficult than ever. Colored chestnut-brown, with a white star on her forehead, the horse was drenched, her eyes wide with fear and distress. She wanted out, but she was afraid of the men.

The men looped a rope over the mare’s head. She fought the rope for a couple of minutes. Since she was wild, she didn’t understand that they were trying to help her. Luc helped spread a tarp over the ice he had pulverized.

When one of the men waded into the water wearing an orange suit and carrying another rope for the horse’s hindquarters, Gwen rushed to grab one of the ropes from the shore.

Luc shook his head. “You don’t need to be out here. Get the trailer ready.”

“The trailer’s ready,” she retorted.

“He has a point,” said Dan, the fireman holding the rope next to her. “This is a job for someone with more upper-body strength.”

Frustration twisted inside her, and she passed the rope to one of the other firemen. “I’ll back the trailer a few feet closer.”

“Good idea,” Dan said. “We’re going to need to get her inside as soon as possible.”

The wind sliced like a vicious whip, and sleet pelted her down jacket like tiny needles of ice. Gwen climbed into the truck and started the engine, then backed up a few feet until she heard one of the men yell. She exited the truck and checked the trailer again.

Luc waved for her to come to him. “Here,” he said, taking a digital camera from his pocket.

“What?” she asked in dismay. “You want me to take pictures?”

“No, I want you to shoot video,” he said. “Stand over there,” he said. “The light will be better.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“No,” he said. “Trust me. You’ll thank me later. Shoot the video. Press this button when I tell you to start.”

“This is ridiculous. I need to be helping that horse the second she gets out of the pond.”

“We’re going to take her straight into the trailer. There’s nothing else you can do. This will be great PR for your cause.”

She tasted the bitter flavor of cynicism in the back of her throat. “PR,” she said in disgust. “I should have known. You have a one-track mind.”

His eyes turned cold as the ice surrounding them. “PR is what will bring in the donations you need if you’re going to continue to rescue these horses.” He shrugged. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Hoo,” the man in the water called. “She’s on the move. This could be it.”

Conflicted by Luc’s comments, Gwen stepped aside, watching the mare thrash toward shore.

“Now,” Luc called and Gwen pushed the button for recording video. With her heart pounding at the mare’s distress, it took everything inside her to focus on the drama unfolding before her.

The mare stumbled and the men struggled to get her back on her feet. Her mouth dipped into the freezing water, and Gwen’s heart stopped.

Luc gently tugged the rope and spoke to the mare in a deep coaxing voice. “C’mon, baby, you can do it. Just a little more. We’re gonna take care of you.”

The mare dipped her mouth into the water again, then lifted it and shook her head. With a surge of energy and a synergy that was nearly mystical, the horse moved forward, Luc pulled and the fireman in the water pushed.

The mare stumbled up the tarp onto land, and Luc and the others immediately led her into the trailer. “You can stop now,” he yelled to Gwen.

Gwen blinked, automatically following his command. She’d been so tense she could barely move. She forced her feet to move toward the trailer. Luc snapped the back of the trailer closed and looked up at her.

His gaze met hers, and she felt a click that reverberated all the way down to her feet. In that instant, she understood what Luc Hudson was about. He would go to the wall for what he considered important. As far as the press was concerned, he would play them like a concert pianist to produce exactly the music he wanted. Power and passion emanated from him.

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?”

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.”