Raya’s knees felt weak, and she sank onto the stone bench, the weight of the leather pants suddenly feeling heavy. The romantic fog of the morning was being ripped away by the harsh reality of her life New York.
"I don't understand," she whispered, looking up at him, her eyes wide with confusion. "How does Jayce even know I’m with you? He doesn't know I saw him at the hotel. He doesn't know anything."
Killian stood over her, his shadow long against the Parisian stone. He looked down at his phone, then back at her, his expression a mixture of irritation and grim realization.
"Office gossip, Raya," he said, his voice tight. "My world isn't as private as I’d like it to be. Someone in my hangar or at the office talked. They heard 'Killian took some Raya chick on his private jet,' and word t
