A Hollywood Bride (Ryder & Paige 2)

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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.