Chapter Seventeen: The Other Brother.
1173 Words
Remember when I said it couldn't get any worse?
Yeah, I think it just did.
Two days were gone, and I was finally done packing for whatever deal I had to close in Rome.
The time had flown by in a blur of anxiety and rushed preparation, leaving me completely exhausted before the trip had even started.
I walked out of the house, and there he was, standing by the sleek black vehicle.
Raphael opened the car door for me, his movements perfectly smooth and professional. I looked at him, and against my own better judgment, I completely admired his looks.
He looked incredibly handsome, from his sharp jawline to the way his dark suit fitted his broad shoulders. I pointed out every single detail about him in my mind, noting how effortlessly attractive he was.
He had this quiet, rugged charm that just radiated off him, and honestly, it made my body react instantly. I almost got wet just standing there staring at him, but I made damn sure I never said any of it out loud.
I didn't even have the guts to do that in the first place.
I cleared my throat, forcing my face to stay completely blank, and climbed into the back seat.
While in the car, I stared out the window and wondered what this trip held for the two of us. It felt like walking straight into a trap, but I tried to shake the nerves away.
Anyway, I was determined to close whatever deal it was and stay far away from Raphael. I just needed to focus on the work, prove myself to Cassian, and keep things completely professional.
But staying away from him became immediately impossible when he climbed into the back seat right next to me. Raphael stayed at the back with me, rather than sitting up front with the driver.
The car was spacious, but with him sitting there, the entire space suddenly felt incredibly small. His warmth was reaching over to my side, making my skin tingle through the fabric of my clothes.
It was completely distracting, and I could feel my pulse starting to race just from his proximity. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to create some distance between us.
I forced myself to move all the way to the other side of the car, pressing myself against the opposite door.
While I was at it, my long gown rolled up awkwardly against the leather seat. The fabric bunched up high around my thighs, exposing way more skin than I ever intended.
I was stunned, my heart stopping for a second as I realized how exposed I was. I turned to look at Raphael, my face burning with instant embarrassment.
He was already staring at me calmly, his dark eyes fixed right on my bare legs. He didn't look away, and he didn't look flustered at all. He just watched me.
"Do you need some help?" he asked.
His voice was a low, smooth rumble that vibrated right through the quiet interior of the car. I actually did need help, even though admitting it to him made me want to shrink into the floor.
"Yes, please," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.
My legs had caught onto something under the seat, and I couldn't move them without ripping the dress. I was completely stuck, and the more I tried to wiggle free, the more tangled the fabric became.
Raphael leaned over across the seat, bringing his entire body agonizingly close to mine.
He helped me, his large hands reaching down to lift my legs out of the awkward angle. He hoisted them up to the point where I genuinely feared my panties were completely visible to him.
The thought made my stomach do a violent flip, and I froze under his touch. I was so tense, my muscles locking up as his warm fingers brushed against my bare skin.
He didn't make a scene; he just reached deeper into the footwell and unhooked the loose rope that had caught onto my legs. I stared at the thick cord in his hand, feeling a wave of confusion wash over me.
I wondered what a random rope was doing in a luxury car like this, but I didn't ask him about it. I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to prolong the intimate moment any longer than necessary.
I quickly pushed back against my seat, pulling my dress down to cover myself as soon as he let go. My heart was pounding against my ribs, and I could feel that I got wet all over again from the intense friction.
The rest of the car ride passed in an agonizing, heavy silence that made my skin crawl.
Eventually, the car pulled up to the private terminal, and we boarded one of Moretti's private jets.
The interior of the plane was pure luxury, but I was too stressed out to care about the leather seats or the expensive liquor. I sat down, expecting him to ignore me, but instead, Raphael started little conversations with her.
He strapped himself into the seat across from me, looking completely relaxed.
"Do you actually know what you are going to do once we land?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
I shifted in my seat, glad to finally talk about something that wasn't my exposed legs.
"I know exactly what the plan is," I said, trying to sound completely confident and professional. "Cassian had briefed me shortly in his study. We have a target to hit, and I intend to follow the instructions perfectly," I continued. "I have to meet the businessman at Zane's birthday party in Rome," I explained to him. "Everyone knows Zane is a powerful figure in Rome, so the party is going to be packed with high-profile targets," I added. "Once I get access to the party, then I will try to close the deal with Raphael's, that's you, help," I concluded.
I thought I sounded sharp, competent, and completely ready to handle the business side of things.
But as I was speaking, I noticed that Raphael wasn't really looking at my eyes at all.
Raphael kept staring at my lips while I spoke, his gaze heavy and completely unfocused on the actual words.
He watched the way my mouth moved with a strange, intense concentration that made my throat go dry.
I only realized what he was doing when I was completely done talking and waiting for his response.
The silence stretched between us, and my cheeks flushed as I realized he had been fixated on my lips the whole time.
Raphael let out a long, heavy breath, breaking the tense spell that had settled over the cabin.
He leaned back on his own seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
He shut his eyes, completely cutting off the intense visual contact we had been sharing.
"It is a lot harder than that, Belinda," he said, his voice rough and heavy in the tension that simmered between us.
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