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Then he flashed that infuriating grin again, shut the door, and tapped the driver. Vicky stood there, watching the cab pull away.
What. The hell. Was that?
What was with him kissing her? What was with her kissing him back? She had a boyfriend. Or at least a prime candidate poised to become her boyfriend. And even if she hadn’t, the last person in the world she’d want to be caught kis—
A sudden shiver ran down her spine. But when she turned to look up the alley, it was empty. And when she looked back at the door into the hotel, she could see the kid had propped the door with one of those plastic wedges and left. They’d been alone. Thank goodness.
She could only imagine what kind of trouble it might cause if anyone had witnessed that kiss.
New York Minute
Hold the presses—we mean hoooooold the presses! And while you’re at it, you might as well SHUT THE FRONT DOOR. Because if you thought this year’s Pink Heart Ball was going to be just another snoozefest like all the others . . . Well, no judgment, because we thought that too. But whoa Nelly were we wrong!
Not ONLY was Noah Prince, a.k.a. Prince Charming, MIA this year for the first time in, like, EVER (last year doesn’t count because he was stranded in a blizzard, people), but RYDER Prince actually showed up! He arrived with a small entourage of ladies, but his friends were turned away at the door, presumably either for not having invites or for not being properly attired. (Or maybe for not being snooty enough? Who knows?)
Anyway, don’t despair for Ryder because he spent the evening with one Victoria Ashby—yes, his little bro’s ex—at his side. Several attendees reported seeing them getting very cozy on the dance floor.
BUT EVEN THIS ISN’T THE BIG DISH OF THE NIGHT.
Because, ladies and gentlemen, it seems that Ms. Ashby and Mr. Ryder Prince snuck out the back door in the middle of the event. AND were seen in one heck of a lip-lock moments later, as evidenced in this photo obtained by NY Minute, below.
(Go ’head and take a few minutes to let that sink in. We’re still working on it.)
Chapter Six
Ryder was woken from a very pleasant sleep by the very unpleasant sound of someone pounding on his apartment door. He ignored it for a few minutes, but when it showed no sign of stopping, he pulled himself out of bed and shuffled bleary-eyed to answer. How, he wondered groggily, had anyone made it past the doorman? He swung the door open and found himself face-to-face with one very irate-looking Victoria Ashby. Ah. That tracked. He wouldn’t have wanted to get in her way either.
“Morning, princess. What brings you here?”
Rather than answer, Vic turned bright pink and hastily lowered her eyes. Ryder glanced down at himself, taking in his bare tattooed chest and low-slung pajama bottoms. Ah. The corner of his mouth curled up. Christ, she was cute when she was embarrassed.
Vicky kept her eyes averted, but she pushed past Ryder into his living room. Okay, then.
He shut the door and followed her into the room where she was already pacing. Aggressively.
Whatever this was, it was too early for it. There didn’t seem to be any way for him to get out of it, though, so he tried the direct approach. “Help you with something, darlin’?”
“Oh that’s rich, that’s really rich. You couldn’t have thought of that last night before you kissed me?”
Oh, yes. The kiss. That had been one of his better ideas. Very enjoyable, and he was pretty sure she’d been enjoying herself, too, before she put an end to it. But his plan to loosen her up had clearly failed.
She spun to look at him. “Well?! Do you have nothing to say for yourself?!”
Failed spectacularly.
She put her hands on her hips and let out an exasperated sigh. “And could you please put a shirt on?”
“Okay, okay.” He grinned, shaking his head as he walked into the bedroom and grabbed a T-shirt. He pulled it over his head as he returned to the next room. “Keep your pants on.”
Vicky, finally able to look him in the eye, had not an ounce of amusement on her face. “I’m glad you think this is so funny.”
“You showing up at my place at the crack of dawn, all mad about . . . whatever you’re mad about? Yeah, I think it’s kinda funny.”
“It’s ten thirty, and have you really not seen it?”
“Until about three minutes ago, I hadn’t seen anything but the insides of my eyelids in hours.”
Vicky groaned. She pulled her phone out of her handbag, tapped at the screen for a minute, then handed it to him.
