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

by Nadia Lee

  By the time I leave the suite, the pillows are soaked through.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Paige

  I do not want to get up the next morning. Nor do I want to go downstairs and sit at the counter with Elizabeth and pretend to be okay.

  The mirror presents a horror show. Red rims my swollen eyes, and my complexion is blotchy. If it weren’t for being pregnant, I’d just stay in bed. But I have to think about the baby.

  With a sigh, I put on a t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats and drag myself downstairs. Sue, the housekeeper, puts sunny yellow daisies in the living room and dining room…maybe to counteract my mood. I’m not exactly good at masking my emotions.

  Elizabeth, of course, looks perfect. She’s at the counter, outfitted impeccably in a blue designer dress, sipping her coffee as usual. Her eyes go dark with concern and worry as she looks at me. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” My voice is a rasp, and I wince.

  “I’m such an idiot. Of course you aren’t okay. When he comes back, I’m going to kill him. Then handcuff him to you.” She gestures at the counter. “The chef made some eggs, bacon and pancakes. If you’d rather have something else—”

  “No, it’s fine.” The chef could offer me a gold-plated, Michelin three-star pancake, and I still wouldn’t want it. I’m only eating for the baby.

  We sit in silence as I mechanically shovel food into my mouth. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to go on and on about Ryder to his sister. She doesn’t seem to know what topic to safely broach either.

  Maybe I should go home to Sweet Hope…or take a short trip to someplace nobody knows me…

  Sue bustles in. Her face is flushed, and excitement glitters in her eyes. “It’s him!”

  “Who?” Elizabeth says.

  “Mr. Reed!”

  I jump to my feet. “He’s here?”

  “No. He sent a car for you.” She flings her arm behind her. “You’re supposed to pack a few things and go with the driver as soon as possible.”

  I don’t even bother to hear the rest of what she has to say. Food forgotten, I rush to my suite and start packing. Since I have no idea how long it’s going to be or anything, I toss fistfuls of everything into a suitcase.

  Elizabeth comes in a few minutes later. “Make sure you take your passport as well,” she says. “And only your lightest clothes.”

  “Why?” I ask, not stopping.

  “Because.” Her smile reaches her eyes, and their corners crinkle. “The driver told me you’re going to Thailand.”

  That stops me. “Thailand?”

  “Uh-huh. Our family—on the Pryce side, I mean—has a vacation home there. Very private.” She shakes her head. “That must be where he is, although I have no idea why. It’s so far away.”

  “I don’t care how far it is. I’m going! Now!”

  She laughs at my enthusiasm. “Okay, okay.” She removes a pair of sweats from my suitcase, along with two long-sleeved shirts. “Don’t forget to send a postcard.”

  I scurry around, gathering all my shorts and light tops and hurling them into the suitcase. One of the men who maintain the garden at the mansion comes up, takes my bag downstairs and loads it into the waiting Mercedes.

  Finally! I’ll see Ryder in a few hours.

  The ride to the airport feels interminable. I clasp my hands together, then let them go, and squirm around. Sitting still like a grown-up is impossible. I feel like a kid on Christmas Eve.

  Ryder’s pristine white jet is waiting. I walk up the steps to board, then step inside the cabin. There’s an attendant…but that’s it.

  “Where’s Ryder?” I ask the woman.

  “You’re the only passenger.”

  My mouth parts. “I am?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Please sit down and relax. Would you like anything to drink? Ginger ale? We also have various juices, water…”

  “No.” I shake my head, taking a seat. “I’m all right.”

  Except I’m not all right. I was so certain Ryder was going to join me. He could’ve left last night, but then why didn’t he take his plane?

  For all I know, Ryder may be staying in L.A., and banishing me to the opposite end of the planet. I pull out my phone in case he’s left a text or a voice mail. But there’s nothing.

  I don’t even know if he’s heard my message. Sudden fatigue weighs me down, and as the plane starts to taxi I lay my head listlessly against the leather seat and close my eyes.

  * * *

  Ryder

  Dane may be an asshole—no, he is an asshole—but he’s an honest one. I inspect the vacation home, making sure it’s perfect. The beach is so clean it looks almost artificial. The water is a perfect shade of aquamarine, and the white sand feels like silk between my bare toes. Not a cloud mars the endless blue of the sky, and the breeze helps cool me down some, although I must admit the humidity is brutal. Having lived in L.A. for so long, the mugginess is killing me.

  But it’s a small sacrifice to pay for privacy. I stopped by the market, just as a test, and the locals didn’t pull out their phones to snap photos or start following me around. They checked me out—after all I’m a foreigner—but they left me alone otherwise. And the shop clerks were sweet without fawning over me.

  I hate to admit it, but Dane’s suggestion was spot-on. This is exactly the kind of place Paige and I need to spend some time if we want to work out our issues.

  The housekeeper, Peeraya, comes out of the house. “Sir, you have message from the airport. Madam’s plane landed,” she says, her lilting accent softening every syllable. “She will come soon.”

  “Thank you.” I turn, facing the beach again.

  The phone in my pocket seems to grow heavier. I know there’s a new voice mail from Paige, but I’m not going to listen to it. I can’t.

  What if she said, “I’m sorry you love me. That was never what I wanted”? Then I’d have to abort this whole mission. But not knowing, I can still cling to hope.

  Closing my eyes, I breathe in the ocean air. If she were any other woman, I would’ve known she was sending me a voice mail fawning over me. Perhaps her refusal to be dazzled by my money and fame is what makes Paige so interesting and lovable. I know that even if I lost everything, she wouldn’t treat me any different. To her, I’m always going to be just Ryder.

  But I want to be Ryder the Man She Loves.

  Soon the black SUV shows up. I see a shadow in the back seat.

  My heart thumps once, a powerful knock against my ribs, then starts racing. My mouth goes dry.

  This is it. The moment I lay down everything.

  I go out and open the door for her, while the driver takes her suitcase. In a light white sundress, Paige smells fresh, like soap and floral shampoo; clearly, she used the amenities on the jet. I have to reign myself in from inhaling her and kissing her until we’re both breathless and needy. As awesome as sex is, it’s not going to give me what I really need right now—her heart.

  Dark circles show underneath her concealer, and her eyes are slightly puffy. “Was the flight bad?” I ask. She should’ve had a bed to herself to sleep.

  “No, it was great. I just, you know…couldn’t really sleep much.” Her gaze roams over me like she can’t believe it. Hopefully she’s not thinking, “I can’t believe he dragged me out here.”

  My hand at the small of her back, I escort her to the house. The foyer is airy with a tall ceiling and lots of glass. The living room is the same, and it has a spectacular view of the ocean.

  The dining room smells amazing. Peeraya has laid out huge fried prawns and dipping sauces as an appetizer, salads and a shallow pot with two fresh bass simmered in a mild broth spiced with Thai herbs.

  “Want something to eat?” I ask.

  “Are you hungry?” she says instead.

  I realize I am. “Yeah.”

  “Then let’s eat.”

  She washes her hands and returns to the dining room. I pull out a chair for her, and she
sits down.

  I take the chair across from her. “Start with the shrimp.”

  “I’ve never eaten anything like this before.” She picks one up, looking slightly worried.

  “Yeah, it’s not your typical American breaded and fried shrimp.” For one, the prawn is huge, almost the size of Paige’s hand. It’s been wrapped in some kind of thin noodles and fried. The noodle wrapping is dry and crispy, while the shrimp is warm and juicy inside.

  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.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  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.