A while later, Vivian stepped out of the hotel, the sun bouncing off the penthouse glass and catching in her blonde hair. The valet was hustling toward the car, opening doors and adjusting mirrors. Lin Fang's eyes, however, were fixed elsewhere.
The roar of a motorcycle broke the hotel's quiet, and he came sliding to a stop beside the sleek black limousine. Vivian turned, eyebrow raised, a little surprised.
"You're not coming with me?" she asked, voice carrying equal parts curiosity and amusement.
Lin Fang shook his head calmly. "I'm not getting into that kind of car," he said, gesturing at the ultra-luxurious four-seater limo. "It draws stupid attention. You go ahead—I'll ride my bike."
"Motorcycle?" Vivian blinked. Then she glanced at him, and a mischievous smile tugged at her lips. Without another word, she strode past the limousine, looping an arm over his shoulder.
"All right," she said lightly, almost casually. "I'll come with you."
