I still don’t know what to do around Raphael.

I mean, I’ve been alone with him for hours now, ever since we got off the chopper. Now, we’re on the private jet, on our way to Paris.

God, all those things sound so crazy. Never in my entire life have I ever imagined that I’d fly on a chopper or a private jet, much less both on the same day.

I’ve basically gone from too broke to even afford inter-state travel, to ultra-luxury travel. Seriously, the only reason I even own a passport is because a bunch of people from college decided to take a road trip to Tijuana, and Carly footed most of the bill for me.

I’ve only ever heard of how bad it is to fly coach, and seen some pictures of the tiny seats. Now, not only am I flying, but I’m actually sitting in a big, comfortable seat that looks more like a recliner that belongs in a nice living room than in a plane.

These seats are so big there’s only enough space for two rows, separated by an aisle in between. There’s plenty of leg room, too. Across the aisle from me, Raphael stretches his long legs without touching the seat in front of him.

We’re airborne, and the flight attendant has just given me a glass of apple juice. I take a sip, fully aware that Raphael is watching me.

I’m sure he thinks I’m just tired—and I am. But that’s not really why I can’t find anything to say to him.

To be honest, I’ve never spent a night with a man before, and even this morning I didn’t know how to face him. Luckily, we spent the entire day with his family, which meant I didn’t have to worry too much about him specifically.

Should I say anything about last night? Should I pretend it didn’t even happen? When he’s near and I want to touch him, should I just reach out or hold myself back?

These are just a few of the questions that have been swimming in my head all day.

On top of that, I can’t stop thinking about what that girl said during her smoke break, after I just got off the phone with Carly. I wonder if she deliberately went outside at the same time I did, just to warn me about Raphael.

I’ve been thinking of a good way to bring it up with him, maybe get him to tell me more about his family situation and his dating history.

I want him, and my body obviously craves another dose of what he gave me last night. But it’s not as simple as just deciding to go for it. He probably just wants sex, and I just know that I’ll want more from him if we do have sex.

I take a deep breath. I’ve been thinking all day and it hasn’t helped me figure out how to handle being alone with Raphael in the City of Love.

Maybe it’s better to just not overthink things and do whatever feels right in the moment.

Even if I make a mistake, so what? I’m only twenty-one, which is enough of an excuse to make mistakes, right?

And so what if I give him my virginity, only for him to leave me right away? Plenty of people don’t end up having serious relationships with their first sexual partner.

“Hey, so, this girl came up to me yesterday while you were making a speech…”

“Oh, Miranda? Yeah, I saw her take the seat beside you,” Raphael says.

I’m surprised he noticed that, seeing as he was busy on stage at the time. I didn’t think he was looking my way at all.

“What did she say?” Raphael asks with concern. Obviously, he and this Miranda girl don’t get along very well.

“She said she’s your step-sister,” I say, keeping my sentence short to let Raphael fill in the blanks himself. I don’t want to seem like I’m laser-focused on the history of cheating in his family.

“Ah, yeah,” Raphael says, chuckling. “She likes to tell people her life story. She thinks it makes her more interesting or something. Did she also tell you about how my dad cheated on my mom with her mom?”

“Yeah.” So far, based on Raphael’s responses, it doesn’t seem like Miranda has lied to me, or treated me any differently than she has treated other people.

“Yeah, well, that’s an old story from decades ago. As you can see, they’re fine now.” Raphael takes a deep breath. “Nobody brings it up for obvious reasons, except for Miranda. But yeah, Dad was super focused on work back then, and he, well, he spent many late nights alone at the office with his secretary. Then, one thing led to another, and Miranda happened, which made it obvious to everyone that it was a mistake.”

I can’t help but smile at Raphael’s explanation. The affair must’ve deeply hurt the whole family, even if it happened a long time ago, but he still has a sense of humor about it.

“Don’t worry about Miranda. She’s kind of weird,” Raphael says.

“So you’re not close to her?”

“Well, we work together and we kind of belong to the same family, but we’re not close. She may be my step-sister, but Diana feels more like a sister to me than Miranda does.”

That explains it. Maybe Miranda is jealous because she feels like an outsider, which makes me feel bad for her.

But judging from our minimal interactions so far, she seems to have a difficult personality. It’s probably not easy to be around her. I wouldn’t blame the family for not fully embracing her.

But wait—if Raphael and Miranda aren’t close, they probably don’t tell each other stuff, right? So Miranda wouldn’t have told Raphael the contents of my conversation with her.

Which means… I could probably ask him anything and blame it on Miranda.

I do have some things I’m curious about, but maybe it’s a good idea to test the waters first.

“So, Miranda also told me womanizing runs in the family,” I say.

Raphael laughs, the skin around his green eyes crinkling as he does, making him look kind and friendly. At the same time, anyone can tell by his size that he can inflict some serious damage on anyone who pisses him off. He’s like a cuddly bear in that way—not the bulging-belly part; just the snuggly-but-deadly part.

“Of course she’d say that to my fiancée. Why wouldn’t she?” Raphael says, still chuckling with amusement. “Diana would get a kick out of that.”

“So, is it true?” I ask.

“I guess I am pretty popular with the ladies,” Raphael says, raising his eyebrows and grinning. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell if he’s being serious because of the way he talks.

“So you’re admitting to being a womanizer, then,” I say.

“Whoa, hold your horses, princess,” he says. “I feel like that’s a pretty loaded word to use, isn’t it?”

“I guess….” I let my voice trail off, not sure what he means.

“It sounds evil, and I don’t think it’s evil to have mutually beneficial relationships with women. Do you?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Exactly.” He grins with satisfaction.

“Is that what we have? A mutually beneficial relationship?” I ask.

“Well, it benefits me to have you as my fake fiancée because you’re such a delight to be around. And it benefits you to do me this favor because you’re getting free rent, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go. There’s nothing sinister going on, princess. I’m not going to bite.” Raphael pauses as a wicked smile spreads across his handsome face. “Unless you want me to.”

My cheeks heat up, remembering the way he bit my neck and sucked my nipples into his mouth last night.

He has just confirmed what I already know: this is nothing more than a temporary arrangement. We both get something out of it, so it’s not like he’s using me.

Besides, there’s no requirement for me to do anything sexual with Raphael. I just happen to find him irresistible, and I’m not surprised that other women can’t say no to him either.

Raphael has the kind of presence that immediately makes me feel at ease. He may look intimidating at first glance, but he’s sociable in a way that you wouldn’t expect someone like him to be.

I can’t help but let my guard down. And now, before I know it, I genuinely like him.

But that doesn’t have to be a bad thing, right? Even if this wouldn’t turn out to be a serious relationship, so what? I’m twenty-one and I’m still a virgin, so maybe I’m doing something wrong anyway. Maybe I should live a little.

There’s one more question I want to ask him. This one makes me nervous because I’d have to fib a little.

“Miranda also told me you went to prison,” I say.

“Oh, wow, she really didn’t pull any punches, huh?” Raphael says with amusement. He gives me a panty-melting grin. “She’s obviously not happy about our engagement.”

“So it’s true?”

“Yeah. It’s not something I’m proud of. I wouldn’t go around telling people about it, but I wouldn’t hide it either,” he says with a shrug.

“What did you… I mean, how did it…”

Raphael watches me fumble around for the right words with a smile, obviously enjoying how awkward I’m being.

“It was a drug charge,” he says, ending my agony. “It was a few years ago when I used to party all the time. I had some drugs on me and got caught red-handed by the cops. Hired the best lawyer I could get, but they had a solid case and I went to prison.”

I nod, acting like I understand, although his life sounds so different from mine, we may as well be from different planets.

I spend all my energy on either studying or working, and I barely make enough to survive. Meanwhile, Raphael has so much money he could blow it on parties and drugs. Oh, and spontaneous international trips—let’s not forget those.

Still, knowing it was a drug-related case makes me feel better. Personally, I’m too busy and broke to do drugs, but I know people who are into them, and their habit doesn’t make them bad people.

Sure, Raphael is technically an ex-con, but it’s not like he hurt anybody. So it’s safe to assume that he’s not going to hurt me.

Unless I want him to, says a voice inside my head, reminding me of what Raphael has said himself, only moments ago.

A shiver runs down my spine as I think about what’s going to happen next. Are we going to sleep on the same bed again?

Do I want to?