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This wasn’t like the alley where he’d kissed her to get a rise out of her. Or like the bathroom where she’d panicked their lie would be discovered.
This was intense. Intimate. Real.
This was happening. And he didn’t know how much he’d wanted it to until it had.
But now that he knew? There was no going back.
He slid an arm under the jacket, circling her waist, and dropped his head to place a kiss just behind her ear.
She let out a little moan.
Good. Lord.
Could they get to a room without having to go through the lobby, he wondered. Maybe he could just jimmy a lock.
“Ryder,” Vic whispered, all husky.
He pulled back. Took a shaky breath. She was going to tell him to stop. Of course, she was. He should never have started. Should have stopped the kiss as soon as it began. She was mixed up, overwhelmed by this party and every other stupid thing she’d been put through lately. That was all. She didn’t want this. What was he thinking?
But then she reached her hand around to the back of his neck, pulling him to her with such force he nearly lost his balance, stumbling into her, she slid her mouth over his, breathed him in. “Oh, Ryder,” she gasped.
She wasn’t going to ask him to stop. She was right there with him.
That was all the encouragement he needed.
He let out a low growl, pressing her into the wall behind her.
She wrapped a leg around his, pulling him closer still, and—
Lights flashed.
Cameras.
New York Minute
OooOooOooh. La. La.
Do we have a society scoop for you!
Sure there was an engagement party for the city’s formerly most eligible bachelor and yummiest Boy Scout ever, Noah Prince.
Designer gowns, everyone who’s anyone, blah, blah, blah.
Not that it wasn’t lovely and all that, but the real excitement was approximately forty stories above the main event, on the roof . . .
No surprise: after a brief flirtation with decency, Ryder Prince is back to his old tricks, sneaking out of his own brother’s engagement party. Big surprise: he didn’t do this behind poor Vicky Ashby’s back, he did it right in front of her face. Approximately zero millimeters in front of her face, because she was the lady in question.
On the one hand, at least he wasn’t skipping out on Vicky already. On the other hand, WTH, Vicky? We get it if it’s tough to see Noah with another woman, but pull yourself together! Slinking away for a little sumpin’ sumpin’ in the middle of a gala event? This isn’t like you.
Has the bad-boy billionaire been a bad influence on sweet Vicky Ashby? Say it isn’t so!
(Scroll down for highly incriminating photos below . . . )
Chapter Nineteen
“What the hell were you thinking?” Vicky’s father’s voice came through slightly distorted as he shouted down the line.
She tipped her head to the ceiling and tried to center herself. She had been up half the night refreshing the gossip pages, trying to assess the damage. The photos were bad. Nearly indecent. The comments weren’t any better. She wasn’t sure she had the capacity for this conversation right now.
