Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement / Tempted Into the Tycoon's Trap: Blackmailed Into a Fake Engagement. Emily McKay
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 more dangerous,” she admitted. “But I’m lucky. My uncle installed backup generators for my cabin and the rescue barns.”
“And you don’t ever miss the ocean or warm weather,” he said, his voice full of disbelief. “Especially during winter.”
She pursed her lips together, wanting to refute him, but knowing it was a lie. “Every now and then, I miss the warmth. It’s a trade-off.” She chuckled to herself. “Plus it keeps the paparazzi away. Only a desperate fool is going to show up in this kind of weather to get a photograph of a has-been actress.”
“Has-been,” he echoed, stopping in front of her so that she also was forced to stop. His expression was incredulous. “Is that the way you see yourself? Because you could damn well name your price and part if—”
She shook her head and smiled. “I’m a happy has-been.” His intense gaze seemed to delve inside her as if he could glimpse her secrets. Uneasy, she stepped to the side to move around him, but her foot hit an icy patch and she began to slide. “Damn—”
He caught her and pulled her against his hard chest, making her instantly aware of his strength, stealing her breath away again. She bit her lip. “I’m okay. I don’t need—”
“Maybe not, but I was raised to try to prevent women from falling on the ground. That’s three times today.”
His eyes were full of curiosity and a too-appealing blend of humor and irony. She felt a pop of her own curiosity. A reluctant knight. Who would have thought it? What other secrets lay beneath the Hudson PR exterior?
She pushed away from him. “I’ll tell you a secret. No one’s looking. You could have let me fall on my—self, and no one would have noticed.”
He shrugged. “I would have. Besides, you’ve had a rough day. Your sister, your engagement to me, the horse.”
“You can fix one of those,” she said, growing increasingly uncomfortable with his invasion of her little universe.
“Which one?”
“The engagement. You could make it go away. You could go away.”
He chuckled. “No chance. We’re both stuck for the duration. If you don’t like it, just think of it the same way you do the weather. It’s a trade-off.” He rested his hands on his hips. “So go on to the cabin before I’m struck with a sudden obligation to carry you.”
“God forbid,” Gwen muttered and trudged forward. She would nap in the office tonight so she could watch the monitors of the rescue barn. Every step she took, she heard the crunch of Luc’s boots just behind hers. She heard his breath. Right there behind her, watching her, he was waiting to catch her if necessary. The notion made her stomach turn a flip, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in years. She didn’t like it.
Hours later, she awakened to the sound of a knock at the front door. She sat up in bed, confused, realizing she was still dressed in the same jeans and flannel shirt she’d worn the day before. What? How? She brushed her hair from her eyes, trying to blink away her drowsiness.
Mentally backtracking, she recalled coming into the cabin and settling into the office so she could steal a few naps in between watching the mare from the remote camera feed. How had she ended up in her bed?
Another knock sounded at the door. She heard a low male voice. Luc Hudson, she remembered and pushed her quilt aside. She glanced at the clock and cringed. Seven a.m. She should have been up by five! Dashing to the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and brushed her teeth, then rushed down the hall. She took a turn toward the office.
“Gwen, dear,” Luc called.
She stopped midstep, frowning at the dear. She swung around to look at him. He stood in the doorway backlit and looking wide-eyed and perfectly awake. She tried not to snarl.
A man she’d never seen before craned around him and lifted a camera, taking a half-dozen shots as she stared in surprise. Luc shoved the door closed and strode toward her.
“They’re already here,” he said.
“Who?” she asked, craving a cup or ten of coffee. “And how did I end up—”
“We don’t have time. We’ll have to talk later.” He ran his fingers through her hair. “Put this on,” he said, pulling a jeweler’s box from his pocket and opening it. Lifting the large solitaire with a diamond-studded band, he caught her left hand and pushed the ring onto her finger.
Gwen gaped at the ring, shocked at how well it fit. “How did you know—”
“Pretend you’re madly in love with me,” he said and tugged her toward the front door.
“But what—”
“The paparazzi,” he said and opened the door.
Gwen immediately heard a dozen clicks from the camera. “When did you and Luc Hudson get involved?” another man asked. “And what’s going on with your sister, Nicki?”
Luc slid his arm around her waist. “Gotta give you guys credit. You’re the first. You make it damn hard to keep a relationship private.” He turned toward Gwen and dipped his head. “I think they’ve caught us, sweetheart, ” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.
Gwen blinked in surprise at the sensation of his lips on hers. Hearing the click of the camera reminded her of her role, Luc’s adoring fiancée. She deliberately melted against him and lifted her hand to his bicep. His kiss felt both foreign and natural. His body was warm and strong, his hand at her back firm and persuasive. His mouth lingered, catching her off guard, but she recovered, ducking her head into his shoulder.
“So shy. Listen, why don’t you come back later? We can show you the horse we rescued yesterday. She’s pregnant.”
“Gwen’s pregnant?” the reporter asked.
Gwen felt as if she’d been slapped. “No,” she said immediately in a sharp voice. “The horse is pregnant. Not me.”
“Okay,” the reporter said, sounding disappointed. “Let me get a shot of the rock. Everyone likes to see the ring.”
Gwen raised her hand and stared at the unfamiliar ring on her finger.
“Cool, you look like you can’t believe it,” the reporter said.
The man had no idea, Gwen thought and plastered a pleasant expression on her face.
He glanced at Luc. “You’ll let us shoot some film?”
“It’ll make you understand even more why I fell for her.”
The photographer glanced at Gwen. “As if you needed a reason,” he said. “Hollywood misses you, Gwen.”
Gwen smiled, amused by how glamorous she didn’t look with zero makeup, hair that hadn’t been brushed and sleepy eyes. Good thing she didn’t give a rip. “You’re too kind.” She wrapped her hand around Luc’s bicep. “There’s a diner in town if you’re hungry.”
“Okay,” the reporter said. “You promise you won’t go anywhere?”
“We’re