Home > Billionaire's Blackmail Bride (Bad Boy Billionaires #16)(12)

Billionaire's Blackmail Bride (Bad Boy Billionaires #16)(12)
Author: Judy Angelo

Lani froze mid-stretch then she lowered her arms to her sides and frowned. “So soon? I thought this was supposed to be a week-long honeymoon.”

“I’ve had enough,” he said, his voice terse. “It’s time for me to get back to the real world.”

“Well.” That was all she said – no protest, no nothing – then she shrugged and headed back into the bedroom.

Ridge grimaced then let out the breath he’d been holding. The truth was, he’d expected a fight, maybe even an all-out war. The last thing he’d expected was for her to accept his sudden change of plans without demur.

But he was thankful. He was looking forward to getting back to Houston where he could lose himself in the day-to-day problems of work. With all that distraction maybe he would be able to deal with his dilemma. This romantic setting was definitely not working in his favor.

But, back in Houston Ridge soon found out that losing himself in work was not going to be the answer. Each night he still had to come home to face a bride, now a wife of over one week, who proved a constant distraction. And as if that weren’t bad enough she was a constant cause for vexation. The woman would not listen to him.

As soon as they’d arrived back in Texas the woman decided she was going back to work the very next day.

“You already told your staff you’d be away this week,” Ridge told her. “Why don’t you just stay in and relax?”

Instead of seeing reason Lani had a ready response. “So you rush us back here so you can get back to work but I should sit in the house for the rest of the week, bored out of my mind? Nothing doing.”

“You were the one who complained that you hadn’t had a vacation since taking that job.”

“I didn’t complain,” she retorted. “I merely stated a fact. But that’s beside the point. The important thing is, we’re back in Houston and I’m certainly not going to waste time sitting in your big old house, twiddling my thumbs when I could be getting some good work done.”

“Just like I thought,” Ridge said, his lips twisting in annoyance. “You’re nothing but a workaholic.”

“Says the man who cut our honeymoon short so he could get back to work.” Her laughter told him she was not intimidated by him, not in the least.

And that was the pity because if she would only listen to him then she wouldn't keep doing things that pissed him off… except that she seemed to take pride in her ability to do just that.

They’d been living together a little over a week in this ranch house – the one she’d called his big old house – when he came home much later than usual, almost nine o’clock that night, to find that she wasn’t there. It was the first time he’d come home and she hadn’t been there.

Frowning, he threw his jacket onto the sofa and fished his cell phone out of his back pocket. He dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail. Not what he wanted to hear.

A twinge of worry made his frown deepen but he sucked it in. Maybe he was overreacting. Lani was probably working late. He would give her another ten minutes and if she didn’t get home by then he would try her phone again.

The second the clock told him the time had passed he tried her number. Voicemail again. What the heck? What reason would she have for turning off her cell phone? If she had to be in a meeting all she had to do was put the darned phone on silent mode. At least then she would know he was trying to reach her. With a growl of frustration Ridge went and retrieved his wallet from his jacket pocket then dug around until he found her card. Not caring what meeting or experiment he might be disturbing he dialed the number to the research lab. No friggin’ answer.

By this time, the twinge of worry had turned into a knot inside his gut. What if something had happened to Lani? He didn’t want to make a big thing out of what was probably nothing but after nine o’clock at night was not the time for a man to be wondering where his wife was. And rather than just sitting there, wondering, he decided to make a move. If he couldn’t get Lani on the phone then he would have to go to her office.

Ridge shoved his phone into his trouser pocket, grabbed his keys and was just heading for the door when he heard a car pull into the driveway. Lani was home. Finally. A wave of relief washed over him but within seconds it had morphed into anger. She’d better have a damn good reason for coming home at this hour.

When the front door opened he was standing there in the foyer, waiting for her. “Why didn’t you call me?”

Lani jumped but as her gaze fell on him she smiled. “You startled me,” she said, coming in and closing the door behind her. “That’s not nice.”

“And it’s not nice to have your husband at home wondering where the hell you are.”

At his biting retort Lani frowned. “I’m a grown woman. I can come home whenever I want to.” She dropped her bag onto the hallway table and made as if to walk away but he stepped in front of her, bringing her to a sharp halt.

“You may be a grown woman,” he said, his tone cold, “but you’re a married woman now. You’ve got a husband to answer to, and don’t you forget it.”

“Well, excuse me.” Her words dripping with sarcasm, she glared at him. “Just in case you missed the memo, this is the twenty-first century. Being married to you doesn’t mean you own me.” She folded her arms across her lab coat covered frame, looking ready for a fight.

Pissed that instead of apologizing she was being combative he hit back just as hard. “I may not own you but as long as you’re my wife you check in with me or-”

“Or what?” Now she’d loosened her crossed arms and had them curved outward, looking like a teenage street thug fixing for a beat-down. He would have laughed if he weren’t so mad.

“Will you shut up and listen to what I have to say? All I was saying was you-”

“No, I will not shut up. No man’s going to tell me to shut up, husband or no husband.”

“Lani, I’m warning you. Be quiet or else-”

“Oh, so you’re threatening me now? You think because I agreed to marry you I signed over the rights to my freedom? Well, you got it wrong, buster.” And then she did that jerky thing with her neck that feisty women do when they’re telling you off.

“You asked for this,” he muttered and before she could make another move he’d reached out, clamped his hands on her shoulders and hauled her toward him.

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