A Hollywood Bride(8)
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.
Chapter Three
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.