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

  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.

  Chapter Two

  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 almos
t 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?”

  “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.