A Hollywood Bride (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 2) (23 page)

She takes a few bites, then stops, licking her lips. “Ryder… Did you get my message?”

“Yes,” I say, my gut suddenly tight. I reach for my water.

“I want you to know I meant everything.”

“Paige, I —”

The tears gathering in the corners of her eyes stop me short. Looking up, she blinks hard. “I don’t even know why I’m crying like this.” She fans herself. “I’m being so silly.”

“No, you aren’t.” I swallow, gather my courage. “I got it…but I haven’t listened to it yet.”

She starts. “You haven’t?”

“No, I… Look. I have to tell you something first.”

“Okay.” Her voice is shaky.

“I fired Mira.”

“What?

“Yeah. I did.” I forge on, needing to get it all out before my nerves get the best of me. “Nobody can hurt you—or the people you care about—and get away with it.”

“But Ryder…she’s your agent!”

“Yes, and you’re my fiancée. And I told you which one matters more.”

Paige gazes at me, then nods slowly. “So you did. I guess I should start believing you, huh?”

“Yes. Please do believe me.” I get out of my chair and kneel by her side, taking her free hand in both of mine. The skin-to-skin contact feels so good, I close my eyes to savor it for a moment. “I was wrong and stupid all along. You said I didn’t treat you like you were my fiancée, and you were right. I didn’t. I treated you like you were an extra in my movie. I should’ve listened to what you wanted, what was important to you.”

“Ryder…”

“We’re going to elope, just like you wanted. Who gives a shit about putting on a show? I thought I could give you up and find somebody else, but I can’t. I love you. I’ve never said it to any woman before, not even to Lauren. Something always held me back…until you.”

More tears bead in her eyes, and this time she lets them fall. I wipe them away, my fingers clumsy and desperate. I’m worse than Dane. Not even he would make the love of his life cry.

I speak fast. I need to get it all out before she makes her decision. “Paige, we can have a year together, and if you decide that I’m not the one you want, then…”
My heart will shrivel and never recover
. I lick my lips, which have gone completely dry. “Then you can get rid of me. But until that time comes, give me a chance to earn your love. I’m not as bad as the media says. If you want, we can live here for a year, away from the spotlight and—”

She puts a hand over my mouth.

All the air stills in my body, and I remain frozen. I’m at the edge of a cliff, blindfolded and teetering. Either I’m going to be pushed into the abyss or I’m going to be saved. I just don’t know which option Paige is going to choose.

“If you’d listened to my message, you crazy man, you would’ve known I love you,” she says. “You would’ve known I was waiting for you to come home and that I missed you so much.”

A dam inside me bursts, and I start shaking. It’s as though all the fear and doubt pours out of me, leaving nothing but joy and happiness in their wake.

With a loud whoop, I pull her in for a kiss. She responds immediately, her lips open, her tongue thrusting inside, and her teeth trapping my lower lip so I can’t retreat.

Desire boils my blood even as I cradle Paige’s face in my hands. Our lips are fused, our heartbeats synchronizing. I feel like we’re becoming a single unit that is greater than the sum of two people.

She pulls back and glances at the dinner table. “You think all this will still be okay if we microwave it later?”

“Most definitely.”

A wicked smile splits her face. “Then show me your room.”

Paige

Ryder carries me to the second level, his eyes brilliant with desire. I clutch his wide shoulders, feeling the powerful muscles underneath the shirt. I’m almost afraid this is a dream, and I’m going to wake up and find myself alone in my room. My heart beats like it’s going to burst out of my chest, and I kiss him like I want to inhale him so he’ll always be a part of me.

In his room he puts me down. We are still kissing; he gently pushes me backward until my calves hit the cool wooden bed frame. My hands clutch him as the world slowly tilts…and then I’m on my back on the sheets, my legs dangling over the edge, knees bent.

Ryder rises up over me, his handsome face tight with need. Stepping out of his shoes, he takes off his clothes, the movements graceful. The muscles on his body are hard and strong, honed with meticulous care. My mouth parts. It’s hard to believe such a perfect man is mine.

Heat pulses through me as he strips my dress and underwear off with shaking hands. Everywhere his calloused fingers graze, goosebumps follow, leaving me shivery and weak with longing. I pull his face down for a kiss, my fingers tunneling into the warm silk of his hair.

Our tongues tangle, our mouths mold against each other, greedy and desperate. The kiss feels different now—sweeter and freeing. It’s as though all the barriers are gone, no fear or hesitation holding us back.

“You’re gorgeous,” he groans, running his lips down my neck, his breath fanning my hypersensitive skin. I feel it all the way to my core.

He plumps my breast in one large hand, weighing and studying the shape. He rolls the nipple between his fingers, and sensation hits me like a lightning bolt. I cry out, my back arching.

His mouth curves into the cockeyed grin that has broken millions of female hearts around the world. But not mine. Unlike the movies, there’s love in his eyes, direct and unconditional and true.

“Perfect.” He pulls the nipple into his mouth. His cheeks hollow as he sucks hard, and pleasure makes my skin prickle until I can barely lie still.

I’m so slick—dripping between my thighs. He drags the sensitive tip until it pops out of his mouth wetly. I whimper at the sharp pleasure.

He subjects the other nipple to the same erotic torture. It’s as though there’s a direct link between my nipples and my clit. I can feel every suck, every nip all the way to that tiny bundle of nerves.

Gently, he guides my hand between my legs. “Make yourself feel good,” he says against my hard, wet nipple. His warm breath on the sensitive peak has my blood boiling, and I cry out softly.

My eyes on his, I touch myself. My fingertips are immediately drenched, and he’s back to tormenting my oversensitive breasts. I rub my swollen clit; waves of electric pleasure ripples through me, and a sheen of sweat spreads over my tingling skin. But it’s not enough.

I pull away from him and move up on the bed. “I want you inside me, Ryder.”

“Happy to oblige. And I want to hear you come with my name on your lips.”

“It’s not about my pleasure,” I say. “It’s about us connecting in the most intimate way a man and a woman can. I want to feel you all the way inside me.” I cradle his heartbreakingly handsome face in my hands. “Don’t deny me. Please.”

His forehead touches mine. “I could never deny you.”

Bracing himself on his elbows, he positions himself between my legs. I spread my thighs, eager and waiting. He pushes inside, slowly, inch by agonizing inch. I brace my feet on the bed and tilt my hips in encouragement.

Our gazes lock. I feel like I’m peering into his soul as he hilts himself in me.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groans.

“So are you.”

“I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“I’m all yours,” I whisper. “Forever.”

He pulls out and drives in. Every stroke rubs against the sensitive interior nerves, and with every thrust I sink a little bit deeper into a universe of pleasure. My hands dig into the strong muscles of his back, slick with sweat, and his name is a loving chant on my lips.

Ryder shifts the angle of his pelvis, rolling his hips. Now his thrusts hit my clit as well, and my toes start to curl.

“Come for me, Paige. Come with me.”

His voice rasps over my senses. Everything inside me coils tightly until—

I let go. I know he’ll always be there to catch me.

Tendons stand out on his neck as he joins me, his cock lodged deep inside. Just watching the pleasure twisting through him sends the sweetest ache through me, and I can’t help but bring his head down for a soul-deep kiss.

“Thank you,” he says against my lips when he can catch his breath.

“For what?”

He presses his mouth to my forehead. His voice is quiet when he says, “For completing me.”

* * *

It takes one more day to get our marriage license. Apparently Ryder hired local lawyers, who did what they had to to expedite the process.

“We don’t have to do it today if you don’t want to,” he says as we share breakfast in bed. Peeraya has prepared omelets and whole wheat toast, plus freshly squeezed mango and pineapple juice.

Since my appetite is back with a vengeance, I stuff my face with another bite of eggs and shake my head. After I wash it down with the juice, I say, “I do want to. Let’s do it.”

“You sure? Don’t you want to walk down the aisle with Simon?”

“I do, but maybe we can have another small ceremony or something when we get back home.” I squeeze his hand, then shoot him a sassy grin. “Besides, I have another, slightly vindictive reason for wanting to marry ASAP.”

He cocks an eyebrow.

“Julian. He threatened me.”

Ryder’s eyes narrow.

I bump his shoulder with mine. “Don’t worry. I won’t try to solve the problem on my own. But he does want to keep that painting that’s rightfully yours. So I’m going to do everything in my power to spite him. I might even set your siblings up with potential spouses.” I’m not a big fan of Ryder’s father. I’m not going to let him win. No way.

“Getting Grandpa’s portrait is going to be great, no doubt, but having you is worth more.” He kisses me on the forehead. “Even if Julian reneges on giving us the paintings, I’ll still be happy because I have you.”

I flush with pleasure and love. Ryder really says the most romantic things. He should’ve been a screenwriter. He could’ve made a name for himself churning out romance scripts.

In the morning, while it’s still relatively cool, the staff builds a huge arch entwined with gorgeous purple and white tropical orchids. I step outside to admire the setup. The orchids sweeten the ocean air’s tang with a tropical floral fragrance. I’ve never smelled anything so divine.

We’re going to have a sunset ceremony. I go through my suitcase for something appropriate. I don’t think I can do a bikini wedding, even though I saw one on the Internet. I’m still a little more traditional than that.

Thankfully, I somehow remembered to pack a cute strapless white dress. It has a simple sweetheart bodice and a chiffon skirt that reaches my knees. Josephine bought it for our engagement party in case I didn’t feel like wearing the “ribbon on the back” dress. She’s a firm believer of buying two outfits for every event because you never know.

“What if you spill red wine on your first choice?” she asked blithely as she tossed the dress on top of the “buy” pile. “Think about it.”

Even though I’m more pregnant, the clothes still fit me okay, and Peeraya magically produces a pair of white pumps with one and a half inch heels that are not only comfortable but fairy tale princess beautiful with tiny white beads and lace.

“You are
awesome
,” I tell her, beaming.

“I’m glad you’re happy, madam.” She smiles back.

About two hours before the ceremony, she brings in a basket full of beautiful white flowers whose names I don’t know.

“They are from the garden. Perfect for you.”

Perfect for me?
I wonder, but it soon becomes clear as she directs me to sit down in front of a huge vanity. Her talented hands weave the blossoms into my curled hair, one by one, then set them in place with pins. When she’s done, I look like some kind of tropical paradise goddess.

The sun sinks slowly into the ocean, and everything becomes drenched in reddish gold.

The local violinists start “Here comes the bride.”

It’s time.

At the makeshift altar stands a British ex-pat minister who is going to officiate our wedding. Ryder stands by the arch to the left. A classic black tux fits him perfectly, from the powerful V of his lean torso to the strong thighs. The breeze from the Andaman Sea ruffles his hair, and his eyes sparkle like stars.

There are people who want to keep us apart, and I’m not talking about the faceless masses. There’s Julian, who’s going to be furious. And I doubt Mira is going to just go quietly into the sunset.

But none of that matters now, because I’m here with Ryder. We can fight the entire planet together if need be.

I take a step forward to my future.

Happiness and bone-deep contentment rise within me like champagne bubbles. I am exactly where I belong—a Hollywood bride to the love of my life.

Elliot

I’ve been to a lot of strip clubs, and I’ve watched a lot of women putting their assets on display.

But this girl on stage…

Her face is pretty enough. Klieg lights glint off too red hair, and a heavy layer of makeup enlarges her green eyes and gives her mouth that “ready to suck a dick” look.

Underneath all the artifice, though, she’s got something. A quality I haven’t seen in the others.

Too bad she’s the worst stripper I’ve ever seen in my life.

It’s not her body. Her tits are big and bouncy—probably real—and firm from youth. Her ass is round and taut and would be a great double-handful to grab when I thrust into her warm, wet pussy—the thought of which makes my cock swell with interest.

But she has zero moves.

Stripping is like fucking. A guy can have the biggest dick in the world, but if he has no idea what to do with it, he might as well have no dick at all.

I turn away, but the girl’s awkwardness tugs something at me, and I feel bad for her. She’s obviously new and has no talent for the work even though she’s doing her best to imitate what the other girls have done before her.

When she comes my way, I sigh and stick a couple hundred-dollar bills under the tight string of her thong. Even in the dim lighting, her expression makes it clear that she knows they’re a mercy tip. At least she isn’t stupid.