A Hollywood Bride (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 2) (10 page)

Of course. “Fuck. I’m pressing charges.”

Anthony grimaces and runs his hands down his shirt and slacks. They’re ruined, but somehow he still manages to look elegant. “A nasty bodyguard would be faster and easier,” he says, glancing toward his enormous associate.

“Nobody asked you,” I say, even though I know it isn’t his fault. He helped Paige, and the good manners drilled into me all my life say I should thank him, but my internal alarm won’t shut up.
Anthony helping Paige out of the goodness of his heart?
Nope. I don’t buy it.

He shrugs, but ignores me otherwise. The bouncer wears a bland expression, like this is par for the course.

I pull out a handkerchief and wipe Paige’s face. “You can’t go back to your sister’s. It may not be safe.” I stop and swallow. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“It wasn’t. Not…before.”

“Shit.”

Tremors run through me, and shame unfurls in the deepest part of my gut. Paige mentioned something about haters, but I never thought it was that big a deal. I took her safety for granted, the way I do my own. I have my share of crazy stalkers and psychos, but except for one crazy woman who tried to run me over, most would never dare attack me like this. Not in public, or in broad daylight. They just don’t have the courage to confront a tall, broad-shouldered man in his prime.

“Come on. Come home.” I have to have her under my roof where she’ll be safe. “You can move into the guest house. I don’t care. I can’t let you be out here by yourself. You were going to accept my proposal anyway.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I know I screwed up. Her eyes focus with hard-edged annoyance, and she stiffens. “Even now? That’s what you’re thinking about?”

Of course not, but I don’t have the time or patience to convince her. I wish she were a little bit more like the vapid women who usually cling to me. “Paige… I phrased it wrong, but you know what I mean. You can’t be out here on your own.”

“Fortunately, she doesn’t have to,” Anthony says. “She can stay at my penthouse. I can assign TJ here to her for protection.”

I bare my teeth. “Over my dead body.”

“Oh, calm down. Unlike you, I don’t steal women. And I’m not going to be in town anyway. I’m leaving for Paris tonight.”

Does that mean he’s finished in L.A.? I’d love to have him be gone forever. That would leave me and Paige with one less issue.

Paige licks her lips, her gaze darting back and forth between me and Anthony.

Come on
.

She nods at Anthony. “All right.”

Paige

Anthony’s penthouse isn’t that far from downtown. He doesn’t seem to mind that I soiled his car seat. I don’t want to know how much it’s going to cost to clean the leather.

He also didn’t gloat in the face of Ryder’s incredulous fury. I thought Ryder was going to take my wrist and drag me back to his Beverly Hills mansion anyway, but he somehow managed to restrain himself.

Given my interactions with Anthony, I assumed his place would be dark and gloomy. Instead it’s airy and bright with a tall ceiling and lots of big windows. The walls are mostly barren. There are a few paintings that somehow don’t count. I have the feeling that he bought them as investments rather than because he likes art. They’re framed and displayed in a professional but clinical manner. There aren’t any books or movies or music either. The floor is pristine oak, shiny and blemish-free.

I shiver, but my chill has nothing to do with the air conditioning blowing in my direction. It’s the sterility of the place. The glass-top tables and iron chairs only add to the lifeless appearance.

Unease runs a finger down my back.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I don’t collect moths, and there’s no basement with a pit.”

That startles me so much I snort a laugh.

“Are you all right?”

“As well as I can be. Thank you. And TJ, too.”

“Ryder should’ve known better than to let you walk around unprotected.”

I make a face. “Even if he’d offered, I would’ve turned him down. I’m not into chaperones.”

Anthony grunts. “You should shower. There’s a bathroom you can use in the guest suite, which is to your right. Unfortunately, I don’t have much in the way of clothes you can borrow. But I’ll call housekeeping to do your laundry.”

“I can do it myself. Thanks.”

I go into the guest suite. A four-poster king-size bed sits in the center. Two bedside lamps are mounted on the wall above small tables with drawers. Other than that, the room doesn’t have anything. The en suite bathroom alone is easily bigger than Bethany and Oliver’s master bedroom. The separate shower and tub dominate the space. The double vanity looks so pristine, it’s like nobody’s ever used it. The frosted glass stall has some kind of European shampoo and conditioner, plus a body soap. I wash quickly. The combination of ketchup, mustard and grease has filmed over my skin, and I scrub extra hard to get rid of it completely.

I come out of the bathroom wrapped in an oversized towel and see a black t-shirt with the Z logo on the bed. It’s obviously one of Anthony’s. I run my teeth over my lower lip and shift my weight. If it had been Ryder’s, I wouldn’t think twice about putting it on, but… It feels wrong, like a bride wearing a ring from a man who isn’t her groom.

However, the other option is putting on the dirty clothes, which is no option at all. Now I regret coming to Anthony’s place. I only decided to do it because going to Ryder’s home when he obviously expected me to—practically demanded me to—seemed like giving in. Plus, I was furious with him. I’ve made it clear that I can’t be with him if he doesn’t trust me…or treats me like the hired help rather than someone he’s actually in a relationship with. The fact that our “marriage” is only going to last a year doesn’t change how I feel, especially if he wants me to act the part of a devoted and besotted wife.

I sit next to the shirt. If Ryder had just said he’d decided to trust me, I might’ve gone with him. He’s an easy guy to crush on, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I have feelings for him. It’s just that my pride and self-respect won’t let me let those feelings control me to the point that I’ll let him walk all over me.

Marriage and money or no, I don’t want to change who I am deep inside to suit his every whim. My earliest memories are about Mom being in relationship after relationship with men who were suitable only as providers of a roof and food. Those men never appreciated the fact that she always gave into their demands and put their needs first. In fact, the more she accommodated them the less they respected her.

But after watching Simon and Mom together, I know a healthy relationship is about give and take. I won’t give and give and give the way Mom did with those toxic jerks.

I blow out a breath, annoyed with myself. “Stop thinking and stop hiding.” I throw on the shirt and look for a hair dryer, but all the drawers in the bathroom are empty. I towel it dry as well as I can and put on my pumps. They look ridiculous with the T-shirt, even though it’s long enough to practically be a dress, but I want to cover as much skin as possible. My shield if you will. Then I finally go out into the living room.

Anthony’s already showered, and his hair is still damp too. He’s sitting at the counter in a white button-down shirt and dark slacks much like the ones he was wearing before. His gaze sweeps over me, and a grin pops on his face as he takes note of my shoes. “The shirt looks good on you. Keep it if you like.”

I flush with discomfort. “I’ll launder it and send it back.”

“Whatever you like.” He twists the cap off a bottle of mineral water. “Something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” I say, staying in the same spot. I rest a hip against the couch arm. It too is pristine white.

He doesn’t make any move to come closer. “How’s the baby?”

The sudden change in topic throws me off. “What?”

“Your unborn child. Is it well? I never heard anything about what happened at the ER, and obviously they aren’t going to tell me anything.”

“Um…yeah. It’s fine.”

He nods. Something like regret crosses his face, but his features settle back into a blank façade again. “If I’d known you were pregnant…” His lips turn bloodless as he presses them together and he shakes his head slightly.

“You were fighting.” I shrug. “You wouldn’t have been able to help yourself.”

“You sound so kind, but still manage to make me look like a monster.”

“You and Ryder are being monstrous to each other over a woman who died years ago. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to make any of it sound enlightened.”

“Touché.” He sips his water. “Do you plan to leave him?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Like?” He considers. “No. But it would amuse me.” He puts the water bottle down. “Whatever Ryder has dangled in front of you to get you back, I can match it.”

He has no idea what Ryder’s offered. I highly doubt Anthony would claim my baby as his just to keep it out of Shaun’s reach. Besides, who would believe it was his anyway? “Seems like the people who don’t like Ryder tend to be pretty predictable.”

Anthony arches an eyebrow. “Did you get another offer?”

“Yes.”

A mild amusement lights his eyes for a moment. “Let me guess. Julian.”

I say nothing. He can guess all he wants.

“Ryder’s father has always been an asshole,” Anthony says.

That I can agree with, not that I’d let him know.

“You see…you have a weak point that makes Ryder’s enemies think they can use you.”

“I don’t have a weak point.”

“Oh, please.” His gaze drops to my stomach. “Your baby. It is the weakest of points for mothers, highly exploitable.” A sardonic smile twists his mouth. “Well. Most mothers anyway. And I have a feeling you’re one of the typical ones.”

“You won’t be able to use it to get back at Ryder,” I say.

“If I wanted to get back at him, to even the scales, as it were…I’d’ve made sure you lost it.”

I suck in a sharp breath. My hand flies to cover my belly protectively.

The muscles in his jaw grow taut as he looks at my hand. “Oh yes. I lost a baby because of him.”

The harsh announcement hits me hard. “What…?”

“Lauren was pregnant when she finally told me about Ryder. At that time, I begged her to keep the child, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Said she couldn’t afford to fritter away a career opportunity with something as inconvenient as a baby. Now that I think about it, I don’t even know if it was really mine, but back then I thought it was.” The skin around his eyes tightens, and his entire face looks like a mask.

Suddenly, the evening takes on an ominous tone. I start shaking. “Are you going to hurt me to get back at Ryder?”

“Perhaps I should.” He turns the bottle in his hand, studying it.

My blood turns to ice, and I clench the hand over my belly until it’s a tight fist.

“Except…I didn’t feel even a kernel of satisfaction when I heard about your hospital visit.” He looks up and locks eyes with me.

A moment passes before I lick my dry lips and rasp out, “That makes you a good person. It isn’t something to be conflicted about.”

“But I don’t want to be good, Paige.” He closes his eyes for a moment, then gets off the stool, walking over to a window and a view of the city outside. “I want my pound of flesh.”

I don’t have an answer for that. Telling him it’d do his soul good to give up his revenge just seems corny, a cliché from a badly written redemption flick.

“I want to know how much pressure I can exert before your relationship implodes and you decide he isn’t worth it. After all, that’s how Ryder got Lauren to leave me…by convincing her I wasn’t worth it.” He doesn’t turn to look at me. “Make yourself comfortable. I need to get going.”

“Thank you,” I say automatically, even as my mind is reeling.

“Oh, don’t thank me. I’m not doing this to be nice.”

The door closes behind him.

* * *

TJ arrives soon after Anthony leaves. The bouncer is huge, with big muscles like pale slabs of butcher beef and an even bigger attitude. He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s a bad ass and he knows it.

Of course I’ve known him for a few years at Z, so none of that impresses me.

His gaze doesn’t drop below my neck. “You okay? Need me to call a doc or something?”

“I’m fine.”

He grunts and lowers himself onto the other couch. “Lemme know if you need anything.”

My phone rings. It’s Bethany.

“My gosh, are you all right?” she says the second I hit the green button.

“Yes,” I say even as I wonder how many more calls I’m going to get. There’s Mom and Simon…Renni too.

“I was wondering what was taking so long, then my coworker told me he saw you on YouTube! I can’t believe it! Did you call the police? You should press charges. They need to pay. It’s unacceptable. They weren’t just hurting you but your baby too. It’s like double assault!”

I let her rant. She’ll have to get it out of her system before she can carry on a rational conversation. I catch TJ in my peripheral vision and walk out onto the balcony, closing the door behind me. He doesn’t need to hear our conversation.

While she fires off a hundred words a minute, I take in the view. The city goes on like nothing major’s happened. The people who attacked me are probably down there somewhere. Are they proud of themselves? Are they going to pretend they didn’t do anything wrong?

Finally Bethany slows down. “Okay. Okay. So.” She sounds breathless.

“So.”

“Are you at Ryder’s?”

“No.”

“Paige! You can’t just go to your apartment! You have to find a secure, safe place. Preferably with gates and guards.”

“Um, actually—”

“I said you could stay with us as long as you want, but I don’t know if I can keep you safe. I’d feel better if you went back to Ryder.” Anxiety adds force and speed to her words. “I saw how his mansion was. I’m sure nobody can get to you there.”

“Actually, I’m at Anthony’s.”

That puts the brakes on her. “Who?”

“Someone I know,” I say, being a bit vague. “He owns Z,” I add, hoping that associating him with something she knows is legitimate will alleviate her worry.