A Hollywood Bride (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 2) (6 page)

I sit there in stunned silence, trying to process what she’s telling me. Mom isn’t saying anything outrageous. But the thought of terminating the pregnancy never occurred to me. And even now, the idea is just…alien.

“Don’t look at me like that, Paige. I’m not telling you to get rid of the baby. I’m telling you to consider all your options before making a decision. I don’t want to see you in pain. And frankly, I’m not sure if Ryder is the right man to make you happy. We’re just too different.”

“Obviously. He’s a big movie star.”

Mom shakes her head. “Even if he weren’t a movie star, we would still be too different. You saw how his parents were. When you marry someone, you’re marrying their family too.” There is an odd tension—and maybe a little fear? —in her gaze as she looks at me. “I’ve done everything I could to ensure that you have a good life. Your happiness is all that matters to me.”

Unable to speak, I nod.

She yawns. “Now, I should probably get some sleep. We have an early flight home tomorrow.”

“Ryder’s jet is very comfortable,” I say.

“I know. But I can’t sleep on planes.”

We walk back to the guest-house. I give her a tight hug and make my way back to my suite.

I open the small drawer in my vanity. Inside are a few grainy ultrasound prints. They show dates and a tiny—but growing—dot.

I run my finger over the sesame seed-sized cluster of cells that is my baby. It has complicated my life so much already. Not to mention, it is half Shaun, who is doing his best to ruin everything. But I can’t hate the baby. In spite of all that, the idea of losing it makes my chest hurt.

I’m hopelessly in love with the life growing in my womb. And I know I’m going to do everything in my power to protect it.

Ryder

Something wakes me up.

I would’ve preferred some extra sleep. My head feels like there’s a platoon of Marines marching through it…all of them with jackhammers.

I flip onto my back, trying for some extra
Z
s, and wince. The pajamas I have on are constricting. I don’t even know who put me in them. I usually sleep in my boxer sh—

Raising my head, I look down at myself and curse. I’m not in pajamas, I’m still in the clothes I put on to go to the club. My head drops back on the pillow. I don’t need to consciously sniff to know that I stink.

Of course I know why I’m in this condition. It’s all that drinking and thinking about Paige’s ultimatum. I hate being cornered into making a decision. And despite what Elliot said, it’s not about what I want. No. It’s all about Paige’s threat.

I look at the bedside clock.
Almost noon
. There’s something I have to do… But what the hell was it?

I jackknife up, and pain explodes like a bomb in my head. I put the heels of both hands to my temples. Maggie and Simon are supposed to fly home this morning, and I was planning to go to the airport with them. But since I overslept, they probably left without me.

Gritting my teeth, I struggle up, swallow four aspirins, and drag myself into the shower. Getting out of my clothes is so difficult I seriously consider just walking into the stall with them on. But eventually I’m nude and under the hot and cleansing water. It feels like heaven, and the temptation to linger is overwhelming. But, stuff to do. I change into a clean t-shirt and shorts and walk barefoot to the kitchen to get some coffee.

Elizabeth and Paige are at the counter, their golden heads close like a couple of conspirators. My sister is wearing a pink sheath dress, while Paige is in sweats. They’re laughing over something, and Elizabeth rests her fingertips on the rim of a black mug that says
Sexiest Man Alive
. As irritated as I am, it warms my heart to see Paige happy. It’s almost like yesterday never happened. I note with approval that she remains seated at the counter when Elizabeth gets up to put away the tea and cookies they were having.

“Morning, sleepy-head,” Elizabeth says, tossing her curls over a shoulder. “Or maybe it’s more like good afternoon.”

“I would’ve gotten up earlier if somebody had woken me.”

Paige’s expression goes neutral. “The housekeeper said that you came home late, so I didn’t want to bother you.”

I hate it that I’m the reason the merry spark vanishes from her eyes and the fact that it’s making me feel like the villain here. My mood takes an ugly dive.

“Coffee?” Elizabeth asks, a determined smile on her lips. She isn’t going to let the tension between me and Paige ruin everything.

“Thanks.” I rub my temples. “Where’s the chef?”

“Taking a break. I think we can fend for ourselves for one meal,” my sister says. “But if you want something fancy…”

I wave it away. “Forget it. I can’t stomach anything other than coffee right now.” Once I feel better, I’ll have a smoothie or something. But I don’t need the chef for that.

Soon, Elizabeth places the coffee in front of me in a mug that reads
The Person Drinking Out of This Is an Ugly Ogre
, a gag gift from her two Christmases ago. I start chugging it down. As the hot brew settles in my gut, I start to feel almost human again.

The doorbell rings, and a few minutes later, my housekeeper Sue walks in with a huge bouquet of blue hyacinths and white tulips.

“Who are they for?” I ask.

Sue looks mildly apologetic. “The delivery guy didn’t say.”

“Ah, one of Elizabeth’s secret admirers.” Even though she discourages them, she has her share of men who won’t accept no for an answer. They’re mostly harmless, albeit a little slow on the uptake.

“Doubt that,” she says with a soft snort, but her eyes say otherwise.

“Regardless, they’re beautiful,” Paige says.

“They are. At least whoever sent them has good taste.” Elizabeth takes the flowers, pulls the card and reads it. “Dear Paige. Sorry about yesterday and I do hope you feel better.” She pauses for a moment. “Anthony.”

My coffee mug hits the counter with a loud thunk. “What the fuck?”

My sister clears her throat and hands the bouquet to Paige. I wait for her to toss it on the ground. Flowers from Anthony aren’t fit to be turned into compost for my garden.

Instead, she puts them close to her face and inhales. “They smell nice.”

Elizabeth lowers her head for a sniff. “Wow. They really do.”

“Guess I’ll put them in my room.”

I almost spew my coffee. Anthony’s flowers in my fiancée’s room? In
my home?
I don’t think so.

But apparently Paige is serious. Holding the big bouquet like it’s a baby, she walks out. A moment later I hear her going up the stairs.

I start to get up, but Elizabeth puts a hand on my forearm. “Let it go. Paige can deal with the problem. Don’t you trust her?”

“It’s not Paige. It’s Anthony I don’t trust.”

“At least finish your coffee before you go.” Elizabeth lowers her voice. “Do you honestly think people don’t know what you were up to last night?”

“What?”

“You went to a strip club with Elliot.” Her lips purse in disapproval. “Not the smartest move.”

I curse under my breath. “How did you know?”

“Photos? Elliot going in first, then you following him in later? Everyone has a camera on their phone. Your privacy isn’t safe no matter where you go, especially in this town. You’re just too high profile.”

Shit
. I thought I’d gotten away with it. “Think Paige knows?”

“I don’t think so. She hasn’t said or done anything. But you have to be more careful.”

“Nothing happened. I swear. You can ask Elliot.”

“It isn’t about what happened or didn’t happen. It’s the perception.”

Of course
. I rub my face. Everything is always about perception.

I gulp down my coffee as quickly as possible. I don’t want to fight with Paige, but I’m not going to be weak and run away when she’s obviously spoiling for one. I can’t think of any other reason for her to want to keep Anthony’s bouquet.

After placing the empty mug on the counter with more force than necessary, I run upstairs to find Paige. She’s in her room, and I see the offending flowers in a crystal vase on the bedside table.

I grind my teeth at the sight. Bad enough that she has Anthony’s flowers in her room, but right next to her bed?

Elizabeth’s warning echoes in my head. So I try for some calm. “I’d appreciate it if you threw those out.”

Paige tilts her head. “Is that your answer to what I said yesterday?”

“No.” I grind my teeth. “Actually, maybe. If you want me to trust you, then act in ways that inspire my trust.”

“How should I act?”

“Not associating with people who want to hurt me would be a start. And for god’s sake, don’t keep stuff sent by them.”

She raises her chin. “That’s all it’ll take for you to trust me?”

The defiance in her gaze rubs me raw. “Not quite.” I never give a definite answer to anything. “But close.”

“Right. So even if I do everything perfectly, there still won’t be any trust.” She looks at me with a coldness I’m not accustomed to seeing from her. “What you want is control. You want to decide who I see, who I can associate with, who I talk to. There’s nothing equal about that sort of relationship.”

The accusation pisses me off. I’ve never done anything to control her. She’s the one who decided to push my buttons by bringing Anthony’s flowers to her room, knowing how I feel about him. Knowing what happened between the two of us. “I’ve never treated you any different from before, so you being upset like this all of a sudden is bullshit, and you know it. If you want my attention, fine. Get it in a more productive way, not like this.”

She pales. “You think it’s all about attention?”

“What else could it be?” I really can’t imagine. “Payback because I invited your folks over without your permission?”

Breaking eye contact, she paces back and forth twice, then stops. Her gaze comes back to me, and this time there’s hot fury in it. “The fact that you don’t treat me any different is the problem. You want me to be your wife,
allegedly
, but you’re still treating me like I’m your assistant.”

I open my mouth to refute her. She’s being emo—

“
I’m not finished
.” Her hands are on her hips and her chest rises and falls. “My situation now is worse than when I was your assistant, because you never cared who sent me flowers before. Now I can’t even seem to breathe without your permission.”

“That’s unfair!” I always hated it when she got flowers from some guy she was seeing. I just never showed it because how can you do that without looking like a psycho? She’d always giggle and flush with pleasure, and weirdly enough, I hated seeing her like that over some stuff that some guy sent her.

“Oh, so I
can
breathe without your say-so? Great! Then they”—she gestures at the flowers—“stay because I like them. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to clear my head.”

She stalks out without waiting for my response. I glare at the damned bouquet. If that’s how it’s going to be, fine. But she should know she isn’t the only one who can draw a line in the sand.

* * *

Paige

I go out for a walk. It’s either that or scream at Ryder.

After I make a huge circle around the rose garden, my temper starts to cool. I’ve been asking Ryder to make the decision to trust me. Perhaps it’s about time I make that easier for him. Given his history with Anthony, my keeping the flowers probably doesn’t help. Besides, there’s the whole blowup Ryder had over the interview I scheduled with Derek Madison from
The Hollywood News
.

A part of me wants to have that interview more than ever before. It would be a chance to tell my side of the story, especially after the sex tape. But given Ryder’s history with Lauren, I can see how the whole situation looks to him. I should cancel.

And when I get back, I should throw out the flowers…even though they
are
really pretty.

Ryder isn’t the enemy. Yes, his reaction to the tape and so on hurt. A lot. But his concern for me and my baby’s welfare is genuine. I shouldn’t ignore that and only look at the bad parts.

I sit on the same bench that I shared with Mom last night. The lake is calm, the lily leaves like enormous green coins in the water.

My hand goes to my belly of its own volition. Mom told me to get rid of the baby if it makes sense, but I can’t. Even now I feel a deep bonding with my child.

I pull out my phone and call Derek. He answers within seconds, like he’s been waiting for me. “Paige. How are you?”

“Good, tha—”

“I saw the news. You’re out of danger, right?”

Oh
,
lord
. “I’m fine, thanks. Did, um…everyone see it?”

“Everyone with social media, I imagine.”

I shake my head. “I’m just not used to this.”

“Better
get
used to it. You’re a big star. Everyone wants to know about you now.”

But not the truth. All they want to know is the dirt, not the real me. “I’m calling you about that exclusive we were planning.”

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry. But I don’t think I can do it anymore. It… It doesn’t feel right.”

“I see.” He pauses, then clears his throat. “I don’t know how to say this delicately, but is it because the wedding’s off?”

I have to laugh. “You’re fishing. Even if it were, you know I couldn’t tell you anything definite right now.”

“Really?” The word is laden with skepticism. “I ask because there’ve been some reports that Ryder was seen at a strip club last night with his brother.”

All the air gushes out of my lungs, and I grip my phone tightly. That must’ve been after our dinner. And the brother must’ve been Elliot. Blake and Lucas don’t indulge Ryder the same way. But despite his image, Elliot can be surprisingly sensible. I can’t imagine him dragging Ryder to a strip club. And why would Ryder go to one after our talk about trust? “Those reports must be mistaken,” I say. “Ryder was home last night.” Then I add, “With me.”

Why am I lying like this? Maybe I don’t want to look any more pathetic than I already do. But my stomach is churning, and what little I have in it wants to come up. I clench my teeth.