“Don’t be nosy,” he scolds, though his voice lacks any heat. “I gotta take this.”
He disappears upstairs.
“So,” Elizabeth says in a stage whisper. “You guys make up?”
“I guess so.”
“I’m glad.” She smiles, resting her chin in her hand. “You’re so perfect together. It’s obvious you have feelings for each other.”
“You really think so?”
“Uh-huh. Ryder obviously adores you, and way you look at him…well, I know that look.”
My jaw slackens. Since I just realized I love him, her observation about me isn’t entirely wrong, but…Ryder?
He loves what we do for each other in bed. I guess that’s a feeling of sort, but not the kind she’s talking about. If Elizabeth thinks he adores me, it’s
only because that’s what he wants her to believe.
After all, he is a very talented actor.
“Did I say something?” Elizabeth peers at me.
“No.” I force a quick smile. “I was just thinking about Bethany.”
She nods, but it’s obvious she doesn’t buy it. “Give him a chance, Paige. I know it’s hard to believe a playboy like him can be sincere, but he’s not a bad guy. Not in his heart, where it counts. And I’m not saying that just because he’s my brother.”
“I know,” I say quickly.
Her gaze remains skeptical, and I’m sure she doesn’t understand why I’m reacting like this to her observations. The thing is, I don’t want Ryder to know how I really feel about him. Countless women before me have told him they loved him, and he always responds with a rueful combination of pity and resignation. I don’t think I could stand it, to see that look on his face and know that, this time, it was directed at me.
I already know his heart is off-limits for me. The least I should be able to do is keep my pride.
* * *
Ryder
I shut the door in my office before calling the detective. Benjamin Clark is on retainer with Mom’s side of the family, and he is eminently trustworthy. I texted him yesterday to figure out what’s going on.
“Benjamin,” I say. “It’s Ryder.”
“Thanks for getting back to me. Your instincts were right.”
Icy fear knots my gut. I found the circumstances of Bethany’s accident strange. She grew up in Idaho just like Paige. There was no reason for her to be driven off the road, unless the other driver was driving too fast and didn’t bother to hit the brakes.
“The victim was driving an Altima, which is registered to your fiancée. According to my source within the police, the other car didn’t slow down at all. Unless the brakes just weren’t working, it was deliberate.”
“Fuck.” I sit down, my legs unsteady. Bethany was driving Paige’s car? Then the target was probably Paige, not Bethany.
“Are you aware that your fiancée has quite a few …detractors? I saw at least three comments on social media about wanting to put her in her proper place, and I wasn’t even trying to find anything in particular about her.” Benjamin harrumphs. “Normally I would chalk it up to idiotic people being loud-mouthed, but given what happened to her sister…”
“Damn it. Damnit, damnit, damnit.” I shove a hand into my hair and tug until it hurts. It’s all my fault. I should’ve known she might become a target. Haven’t I been harassed by some truly deranged “fans”? What would stop them from transferring some of their obsession from me to Paige?
I let my pride, my needs, trump common sense. I wanted to show Dad I wouldn’t make myself miserable to fulfill the conditions of getting Grandpa’s portrait of me. The revenge couldn’t just be me getting the painting, but showing the world, especially Dad, I’m having a grand fucking time doing it. I told Paige I wanted the wedding of the century, all the publicity and the kind of glitzy show that would leave people breathless as they watched our fairytale marriage unfold for a year.
Why the hell didn’t I stop to think how it would impact Paige?
No, not just Paige. The people she cares about, too.