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

His head snaps up. “What? Yes. Yes, your baby is fine.”

Sagging with relief, I lay my hands over my belly.
Thank god
.

“By the way, I’m Dr. Min. I don’t recall if I introduced myself.”

I give him a neutral smile. Even if he did, I probably wouldn’t remember. Everything since I got out of Ryder’s Ferrari with my bloody skirt is sketchy, like I experienced it through a dense fog.

He continues, “But you should still be careful. Your blood pressure is a little high for my liking. That and this incident—plus your weight—make this a high-risk pregnancy.”

High risk. The words echo in my ears as I stare at the doctor. He’s not the first medical professional to tell me to watch my weight, but it’s the first time I’ve had somebody tell me it might harm the baby. I try to speak, but my mouth is so dry I can barely vocalize. I clear my throat and try again. “Are you telling me I should diet?”

He gives me a look. “I know how futile it is to tell a pregnant woman she needs to diet. Hard enough normally, and a lot worse when you have cravings. But next time, you should consider losing some weight before getting pregnant.”

I cringe inwardly at the matter-of-fact way he speaks. I know it’s nothing personal, but somehow I feel like I’ve failed my baby. I stroke my stomach guiltily.

“Take it easy, and make an appointment to see your regular doctor as soon as possible. Dr. Silverman, right?”

I nod.

“She’s good.” He grins unexpectedly, and suddenly looks like a teenage boy. “Any questions?”

I look down, then raise my eyes to meet the doctor’s. “Did you…see my fiancé outside?”

“No. But I’ll ask a nurse. Anything else?”

I shake my head.

He leaves, his step brisk. I’m sure he has hundreds of other patients.

I pull up my phone and text Ryder.

Sorry it was such a long wait
.
I’m done
.
Ready to go?

I wait a while, but no response. I text him again just in case.

More time, and still nothing. I know he has his phone; he used it to call nine-one-one earlier.

A hole grows in my chest. Did he just…go home? I asked him to wait outside even though I knew he wanted to come in with me. To be honest, I would’ve preferred that he be there for the consultation. But there’s this small part of me that doesn’t want to be dependent on him. He’s only marrying me so he can get his grandfather’s painting.

And it’s only going to be for a year.

I could contact my stepsister, but that would create problems. I still don’t know what to tell her about my scandalous situation with the sex tape. And I haven’t told her about my pregnancy. I don’t want to say a word about it, not even to her, since Ryder and I are planning to make an announcement after the wedding.

There’s a quick knock, and a uniformed chauffeur I’ve never seen before walks into the room. He’s in a black suit with a heavily starched white shirt and a pair of white gloves. Silver roots show at the temples, and the left side of his face is slightly darker than the right. “Ms. Johnson,” he begins, his voice courteous. “My name is Perry Finds. Mr. Reed sent me to pick you up.”

“Oh.” I guess Ryder sent him for me. “You didn’t happen to bring me a change of clothes, did you?”

He pauses. “I’m afraid not, miss.”

“I…um…soiled my skirt.” I clear my throat.

“Of course,” he says, as though bleeding all over one’s skirt is an everyday occurrence. He shrugs out of his jacket and hands it to me. “Will this be acceptable to cover it up?”

Startled, I look at the proffered garment and him. He doesn’t look any less formal without his jacket, and I feel awkward, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Thank you.” I take his jacket. The fabric isn’t rich, but it’s not cheap either.

“I’ll wait for you in the hall. Please take your time.”

He walks out, and I quickly change into my outfit and wrap the jacket around my waist to cover the bloodstains. They’ll probably never come out, and I’m going to have to throw the skirt away. But I’m too grateful to care. My child is going to be okay. That’s all that matters.

I take my purse and step out. The chauffeur is waiting, standing with hands clasped and feet spread.

“I need to fill out some paperwork for the discharge and instruct the hospital where to send the bills.”

“No need to worry about that. Everything’s been taken care of.”

Typical Ryder: take care of the hospital bills, but forget a fresh change of clothes for me. He isn’t used to handling such details. That used to be my job, but he doesn’t have me doing it anymore. I doubt his new assistant knows what’s going on. It takes a while for people to earn his trust.

Perry puts a hand at my elbow and escorts me outside. On the curb is an idling black Bentley. It’s so waxed and shiny I can use it as a mirror.

He opens the door for me, and I slide in. Then I stop short.

Julian Reed is in the car. He moves toward the window, giving me ample space on the luxurious leather bench—a subtle dig at my size? Although he’s Ryder’s father, they don’t share many similarities. He is blond, while Ryder is dark-haired. He is of average height, while Ryder is tall. He is petty and snide, while Ryder is not.

“Mr. Reed.”

“Hello, Paige.” He smiles, but the expression isn’t particularly welcoming. He tilts his head at the driver. “Perry, let’s go.”

The door shuts behind me with a solid
thunk
.

Ryder

The chairs in this room are just as uncomfortable as the ones in the waiting room. The harsh fluorescent lighting doesn’t help either.

It really does have an effect. I feel like some kind of criminal, waiting in an interrogation room for the cops to question me.

When I stand up, my bones creak like they belong to an eighty-year-old. I
feel
eighty after sitting in that horrible chair for hours. I should go check up on Paige. This is taking way too long, and I have to know she’s going to be all right.

The door opens, and the nurse who told Mrs. Marshmallow to behave slips inside. Her golden hair is down, curling around her shoulders. She seems a bit taller, and I realize she’s swapped out her shoes. A pair of heels encases her feet. She closes the door behind her and faces me.

The light shines directly on her features. Her powder is fresh, and a fresh coat of red lipstick glistens on her lips. In an apparent attempt to make her eyes look larger, she’s put on layers of mascara until there’s more makeup than eyelashes. A cheap perfume stings my nose, and all my internal alarm bells go off.

There’s no way she’s here to update me on Paige.

“Finally!” She takes the front of her blouse with both hands in a Superman gesture and pulls. The cheap fabric gives way, and I bite back a groan.
What the fuck?

“You have no idea how serendipitous it was that you showed up right after I spent an hour shopping at Victoria’s Secret.”
Serendipitous
.
Do all nurses talk like that?

She licks her lips. “It’s as if the universe wants us to be together.”

“No, it really doesn’t.” I try to walk around her. I have zero interest in hooking up with anybody. But the woman is not at all amenable to moving away. The ripped shirt reveals tits that don’t even bounce when she steps closer to press them against me.

“You know you want this…” Her breathing grows louder as she cups her silicon boobs. They’re too large for her narrow body. “I’ve studied your type. You like them with big breasts. And blonde.”

She is somewhat correct. I also like women with an ass, not something that looks like it’s been run over by a steamroller a couple of times. “Lady, get the fuck away from me before I call the cops.”

“Oh, you won’t.”

I give her my best level stare. “Try me.”

“Is it because I’m not her?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Is it because I’m not a fat cow like her?” Her voice is getting loud, and anger lends a razor glint to her eyes.
Oh boy
.

“Paige is not a cow. She’s my fiancée.”

“She’s fucking fat! What the hell do you see in her? Why would you want her when you can have me? Haven’t you read all the letters I sent?” She drops her skirt, revealing thigh-highs and a lacy garter belt.

I’ve always thought nice lingerie improved a woman. But she’s an exception.

When I don’t react in the way she obviously expected, she spreads and bends her knees. The lewd gesture shows her panties—apparently made crotchless with scissors before she came inside the room—and her private parts.

Jesus
,
my eyes
. Maybe one of the doctors here can induce strategic amnesia.

Crimson mottles her face and neck. “Why don’t you want this? Why don’t you want me? Can’t you see I’m all wet?”

Good fucking god. She’s gotta be off her meds. What the fuck is wrong with the hospital that they hired unhinged people like her? I reach for my phone. “I’m calling the cops. I’ve had enough.”

She lunges for me. “I am the Cinderella you need. I’ve waited so long for you!”

I sidestep her. High heels are not conducive for physical activity, and I’ve learned some moves from doing my own stunts in action flicks. She goes past and I open the door.

“I need security!” I yell into the hall. “Now!”

“No!” The psycho nurse comes after me, but she’s still hampered by her footwear. The cheap shoes clack on the linoleum. She hasn’t even bothered to put her clothes back on.

What a damn spectacle.

A nurse walking by gasps, her eyes wide.

“Get security,” I tell her. “
Right now
. Unless you want to hear from my lawyer.”

Near-Naked Nurse grabs my wrist. “Ryder! My prince!”

Yeesh
. I yank my arm away. Her grip is stronger than expected, and it takes some effort to get free.

“Why are you doing this?” Tears gather in her eyes. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you to realize the truth about us?”

“The only truth is that you need some serious help.” I stay in the hall, trying to ensure she stays here rather than wander off to other areas with young children. But she’s seriously making my skin crawl.

Her mouth pinches until the lips form a tight, ugly line. “It’s all that bitch’s fault! I’m gonna get her, you know!”

“Listen to me carefully. There is nothing between us.
Nothing
. If we were stranded on Mars, I wouldn’t want you. Understand?”

“You
asshole!
I sent you
gifts!
”

You and ninety-nine percent of my sociopath psycho fans.

She jumps suddenly and rams her face into my biceps. Her teeth cut into my skin, and I shove her away, palm to her forehead.

“What the hell?” I look down and see blood well in an arc.

A couple of men in dark blue uniforms show up. Thankfully they’re young and seem to be in good shape. Now they can deal with this crazy woman.

At the sight of them, she tries to latch onto me. “No! Make them go away. They’re here to take me away from you!”

She is crazy. Abso-fucking-lutely off her rocker. “Watch the teeth. This psycho bit me!” I tell the guards.

“Ryder! How can you betray me like this? It’s all her fault.
That witch!
”

The guards close in, and she starts running. She doesn’t get very far before they catch her.

The nurse I saw before comes over. “Are you all right?” she asks.

“Yeah.” I’ve had worse. At least the crazy nurse didn’t try to run me over with a Jeep. “Does she actually work here?”

The corners of her mouth droop. “Unfortunately, yes. I’m… I don’t even know what to say. She’s always been a big fan of yours, but none of us had any idea…” She shakes her head. “We should look at that bite.”

“It’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not. She broke the skin.” The nurse frowns, looking more closely at my arm. “Human bites can be more dangerous than dog bites. All kinds of bacteria in the mouth. At least you’re in the right place.”

I sigh. She’s right. The smart play is to get it looked at, just in case. Psycho-nurse could have rabies for all I know. “Is this going to take long? I really need to see my fiancée.”

“Oh, I meant to tell you. She’s been discharged.”

“
What?
” I stare at the nurse. “She doesn’t have a ride.”

The nurse gives me a professionally sympathetic look. “Might have called a taxi. I don’t really know. Why don’t you call her and ask?”

“I don’t get it. Is she safe? Shouldn’t you keep her here overnight for, I don’t know, observation or something? She almost lost her baby today.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have that information. I need to check the records.”

How the fuck can she know that they let Paige go, but not know if my fiancée is okay or not? With an effort, I rein myself in. Yelling at this nurse won’t solve anything. It probably wasn’t even her who processed the paperwork for Paige.

I turn my phone on. The latest text is from my agent Mira.
Are you at a hospital? The story’s trending on Twitter
.

God, I hate social media.

There are also several earlier texts, all of them from Paige. The last one is fifteen minutes old. I start typing.

* * *

Paige

The car is moving along slowly in the LA traffic. I look outside and notice that Julian’s driver is taking a roundabout way to Ryder’s mansion. But I should’ve known that Julian didn’t show up just to give me a ride.

“Here.” Julian twists the cap off a mini-bottle of water—the kind you’d normally find on an airplane—and hands it to me. “You should stay hydrated.”

I take it and have a sip. Then I realize I’m thirsty. I haven’t had anything to drink since I went to Anthony’s club. “Thanks. But I’m sure you aren’t giving me a ride just to make sure my fluid levels are okay.”

“You’ve probably only heard negative things about me from my son, but I’m not the villain here, Paige.”

Suuuuuure
. “Then why are you having me followed?

“Having you followed?” He raises an eyebrow. The angle of his raised brow is exactly the same as Ryder’s when he cocks his, and it disorients me for a moment. They look so different, I sometimes actually forget he’s Ryder’s father. “What do you mean?”