A Hollywood Bride (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 2) (3 page)

“How else did you know to find me at the hospital?”

My phone pings with a new text. I’m about to ignore it, but Julian says, “You should answer that. Might be important.”

Well. If he insists…

It’s from Ryder.
Where are you?

On my way home
.

Cab?

No
. I start to type
I’m in a car with your father
, then hit delete. That won’t go over well. My head hurts. I don’t want to have any kind of serious conversation about his father or anything else via text right now.
I’ll explain later
.

Okay
.

I drop the phone back into my purse.

“Who was that?” Julian asks.

“Ryder.”

“Hmm. Guess he wants to know who’s giving you a ride home.”

“Actually you can take me to my car. I left it at Z.” I doubt Ryder remembered to fetch it. I want my Altima back.

Julian gives me a speculative look. “I can manage that.” He hits the intercom button and instructs his driver to take us to the popular club. “As for your worry that I’m stalking you, I don’t need to bother with such mundane things. There’s this thing now called the Internet. Surely you’ve heard of it.”

I don’t buy that one bit. “I’m not famous enough to warrant an article.”

“Social media is more or less instantaneous, and you are a person of great interest now, especially with that unfortunate tape of yours.”

“It’s not my tape,” I mutter as my face heats. Did Julian watch that too? My skin crawls at the idea.

He shrugs. “There were pictures of you and Ryder.” He looks at my belly. “How’s the baby? Still kicking?”

I tense. He’s got to be fishing. I wish I could check my own social media to see what’s being said, but doing that would give myself away. Assuming I could even find the tweets and mentions about my hospital visit, of course. There’s probably more stuff about that damn sex tape. People love to say horrible things about women when things like this happen. So instead I play dumb. “What baby?”

“The Internet said you were bleeding. I’m pretty certain it isn’t due to a feminine hygiene product malfunction.”

You could fry a steak on my face now. I always knew how difficult it was to maintain privacy in Hollywood, but this is ridiculous. I’m nobody famous.

“Don’t look at me like I eat babies for breakfast. I only do that with other people’s babies, and this one’s going to be my grandchild.”

It’s his version of a joke, but I shudder. If his actions as a father are anything to go by, he’s going to make a horrible grandparent.

Julian taps his lower lip. “I wondered why you agreed to marry my son. Ryder isn’t the sort to be okay with commitment, and most likely he’s going to cheat on you. No matter how desperate he is for the portrait, he is who he is…and you’re not his type.”

He isn’t saying anything I don’t know. When Ryder makes love to me, I can almost believe he really cares about me, but I’m also aware that all this is transient. Ryder’s mansion isn’t my home, even if I do live there at the moment. I’m just a temporary guest.

“I always had the impression you were too sensible to fall for my son. If you were so stupid as to love him, he would’ve fired you a long time ago.” He regards me coolly. “Your wedding is in three weeks. I presume it’s still on? Or have things changed because of the tape?”

His blunt questions stun me. I haven’t given any thought to the wedding since the sex tape was released. My mind has been more obsessed with the fact that my parents saw me naked. That Ryder saw me having sex with my ex. And that millions of people out there are watching me on that horrible tape Shaun made without my consent. The enormity of the violation leaves me shaking all over again.

“Well, whatever the date, I want you to go ahead,” he says. “Proceed as planned with the wedding. Then, on that day, you’re to leave my son at the altar.”

I gasp. “That will completely humiliate him!”

Julian looks at me like I’m a dim-witted child. “Well, of course.”

“Why are you doing this? Why do you hate Ryder so much?”

“I don’t hate him.”

“Really? Is that why every time he releases a new movie you send a binder full of negative reviews? Of all the petty things to—”

“It’s for his own good. He needs to learn respect and humility.”

Is this guy serious? “You should be proud of him. He got to where he is without your help.”

“Is that what he told you?” Julian’s mouth twists. “Luck is nothing to be proud of. Nor is winning the genetic jackpot. Do you think it was through his own effort that he was born to me and his mother—to the best families in America? Or that it was through his own effort that he’s as handsome as he is? Of course not. He got most of his looks from me and perhaps a bit from his mother.”

I snort. If Julian really believes that, he’s deranged.

He continues, “And it’s not through his own effort that a bloodsucker like that agent of his discovered him and is using him to line her own pockets.”

“You don’t understand him at all. He’s smart, and works incredibly hard.”

Julian laughs until tears roll down his cheeks. Gasping for air, he wipes them away with an index finger. “That’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard. Oh, how I wish Geraldine’s mother were here. She always thought Ryder was slightly retarded.”

My jaw slackens. “What?”

“You didn’t know that? Shirley Pryce, the Matriarch,” he says, making finger quotes in the air and raising his eyebrows in mock awe, “considered Ryder too stupid to be a Pryce. Except he was one, much to her displeasure, and he didn’t even bother to go to college despite her insistence that he do so. I bet it killed that old bat she couldn’t deny he was one of them.” His mouth curls into a sneer. “He has the Pryce profile.” He hands me another mini-bottle of water. When I don’t take it, he shrugs and drinks it himself. “Now, let’s get down to business. I can double whatever Ryder’s promised you. And you won’t have to tie yourself to a man who probably hates you right now for that sex tape. It’s one thing to know your fiancée isn’t a virgin. It’s quite another to see her fucking another man.”

I tighten my hands into fists and force myself to breathe calmly. It won’t do me any good to get myself worked up over Julian’s words. “I have no intention of betraying him. And I don’t care how big the carrot you’re dangling is. You think you’re the first person to offer me money?”

“No. But I’m quite sure that I’m the first person to tell you that if sweetness doesn’t work, I’m willing to be more drastic.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Oh, no. If I become drastic, my dear, everyone will get hurt, not just you.”

The absolute conviction in his words shakes me. The man is enough of a megalomaniac to believe he’s entitled to get what he wants, using whatever means necessary. And his threat to hurt the people around me is delivered in such a calm way that I start to wonder if he’s sane.

“If you go after people I care about, I will fight back,” I say.

“Then you are a fool,” he purrs like an amused predator toying with its prey. “And have no sense of self-preservation.”

I almost crush the water bottle in my hand. Julian may be right about my sense of self-preservation or lack thereof, but I won’t just sit back and let him walk all over me.

Apparently having made his point, he doesn’t bother to talk to me for the rest of the ride. I watch the scenery go by outside. The silence is better than his smugness and threats.

Finally we make it to Z. Fortunately, my car’s still in the parking lot…and it’s intact. You never know in L.A.

I get out before Julian’s driver can open the door. The man still hustles over. I start to pull off his jacket, but he shakes his head, gesturing for me to keep it.

Julian says, “It was lovely talking with you, my dear. Take your time and think about what I said.”

Over my dead body
. The driver shuts the Bentley door and the car pulls away.

I unlock my Altima and sit in the driver’s seat. I grip the steering wheel and immediately let go; it’s hot enough to grill beef.

Okay
. Roll down the windows, crank the A/C. In a few moments it’s cool enough that I can sit and actually think about what Julian said. First decision: I’m not going to do what he asked. It’s wrong, and Ryder doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.

But Julian also made some good points. Based on what’s happened since the sex tape was released, it’s clear Ryder doesn’t trust me. A trusting man wouldn’t have lashed out at me the way he did. And I don’t know if I can go ahead and marry him if he distrusts me, even if it’s only for a year.

I sit for a while with the A/C blowing, mulling things over. But my phone finally beeps, pulling me out of my thoughts.

It’s a text from Ryder.

Are you okay? Where are you?

Just getting my car
.
Are you home?

Yes
.
I freaked when you weren’t here
.
You left before I did
.

I’ll be there soon
.
Will you be home when I get back?

Yes
.

I toss the phone on the passenger seat and start the car. It’s time Ryder and I have a talk.

Paige

When I arrive at the mansion, security opens the gate immediately. It’s amazing how different the place feels now, even though it’s been less than twenty-four hours since I was last here. The pool looks like polished onyx, cold and unfathomable. Even the flowers seem unfriendly.

By the time I park my car and get inside the house, I’m starving. The smell of food reminds me that I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. I really need to do better. Even if I’m stressed—or in a hospital—my baby still has needs.

His feet bare, Ryder walks over when he sees me. Security has notified him of my arrival; you can’t see people coming in and out of the house from the kitchen or the living room. His dark hair is slightly damp, as though he’s just gotten out of the shower. He’s in a white T-shirt and dark denim shorts. Despite the ultra-casual look, he is stunning, his blue eyes focused and his mouth set in a small smile. If I didn’t know him as well as I do, I might’ve thought he was happy to see me. But the curvature of his lips is too perfect, an exact replica of the expression I’ve seen on the big screen so many times.

He gives me a tight hug, burying his face in my hair. “Next time, page me. You had me worried when you disappeared.”

I tighten my arms around him. When we’re like this, I can almost believe everything’s fine between us. “Okay.”

A fresh bandage covers his left bicep. “What’s that?” I don’t remember Anthony
cutting
Ryder during their fight…

“Nothing.” He clicks his teeth once and opens his mouth as though he wants to say something more. But then he shakes his head. “I had a chef make some salad and chicken Parmesan. Your mother told me it’s your favorite.”

He spoke with my mom
. It had to have been after my hospital visit. “Did you tell her about…”

“No. But she’ll hear about it soon enough.” His eyes drop to the jacket wrapped around my waist. “What’s that?”

“Just something I borrowed to cover the stains on my skirt. I’ll get it dry cleaned and sent back.”

“I’ll have housekeeping handle it.” He clears his throat. “Are you all right? Everything good with, you know. The baby?” Tension pinches his forehead and puts brackets around his mouth.

“We’re both fine. Don’t worry.” Unable to help myself, I put a hand to his cheek. The lines between his eyebrows ease, and I wish I’d asked him to stay by my side at the hospital. He’s a great actor, but I don’t think he’s faking it.

Looking into his eyes, the weight of Julian’s proposition bears down on me. I should tell Ryder about it, but not right now. It will only enrage him, and right at the moment I want some peace and quiet. The day’s been exhausting, with too many ups and downs. “I need to change.”

I start up the stairs. My pelvis throbs, making me wince. The pain is probably going to get worse before it gets better. If I remember correctly, it always hurts more the next day. But I’m not going to take any medication. Chemicals, even if they’re medicinal, probably aren’t good for a developing fetus.

“Paige, wait.” He makes his way toward me. He puts a hand on my pelvis and feels around, like he wants to make sure nothing’s broken. “Did they check this out?”

“Yes. It’s fine.” I grip his hand, stopping the tactile inquisition. “If you really want to help, escort me up the stairs.”

And he does. Once we reach the end of the hall where our side-by-side suites are located, we stop. “You need any help changing?” he asks.

“No. I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

I walk into my suite and close the door, grateful for the privacy. After kicking off my sandals and dumping my clothes—including Julian’s driver’s jacket—in a hamper, I change into loose gray cotton pants and an off-white tank top with pink smiley faces. I need a bit of happy in my life, and the tank top’s never failed to cheer me up…until now.

In the mirror, a haggard blonde with dark circles and brackets around her mouth stares back.

“Come on, Paige. You have on your happy tank. Smile.”

I slap my cheeks lightly to put some color into them and pull my lips back. Now I look like a zombie that just heard a really good joke.

So far Ryder’s been solicitous. It’s like the medical emergency totally changed his attitude. Until I started bleeding, he was upset about the sex tape and my seeing Anthony.

But I’m also painfully aware that it’s all just temporary. That tape isn’t going away. It’s going to be in our faces until the wedding three weeks from now. Actually probably longer, unless somebody else does something crazy to get the media’s attention.

Putting on a neutral expression, I bunch my limp hair into a simple ponytail, then go out into the hall. Ryder straightens away from the wall at the sight of me.

“Dinner’s being served in my suite,” he says.

It is?
“The dining room’s okay.”

“Yeah, but it’s just the two of us. And I thought it might be easier if you didn’t have to go up and down the stairs.” His gaze drops to my pelvis for a moment. “You take anything for that?”