Home > Romancing the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #5)(4)

Romancing the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #5)(4)
Author: Jessica Clare

“So. One million dollars for you to agree to be my employee until we figure out whatever this means.” He waved the letter in the air.

Violet thumped her pen on the papers, as if thinking. Then, she shook her head. “No.”

“You’re a schoolteacher. I’m sure you need the money.”

“I am a schoolteacher,” she agreed. “And it’s the middle of the school year. I can’t leave. That would put the school district under terrible distress.”

“It’s an adventure,” he cajoled, remembering how her eyes used to light up at the thought of something like that. His Violet used to love a thrill as much as he did.

This time, the gaze she turned to him was steely. “No, Jonathan.”

“Why?” He clenched his fist around the paper, dangerously close to losing his temper and storming out of the room.

“I don’t happen to care about my father’s little ploy to get the two of us together again.”

He inhaled sharply. So she thought her father was deliberately throwing her at him? No wonder she thought he was the worst kind of scum, here to hit on a married woman. “Look, Violet, while it’s great to see you—”

“I’m afraid I don’t share the sentiment—”

“—I’m not here to f**k with your marriage,” he continued, his heart aching. He wasn’t sure what he’d hoped for from her. Maybe a bit of affection? Wistfulness over old memories? Wishing over what once might have been between the two of them? It was clear that whatever had been was dead and buried, and Violet didn’t want anything to do with him. She was married, anyhow. No sense in mooning after a happily married woman. “I just want an old friend to help me with something important to me, all right?”

She looked up and tilted her head, frowning slightly, and tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear in a motion that brought back a wealth of memories. He remembered that thoughtful expression, and desire and longing came flooding back through him.

Ten years, and he was still insanely in love with Violet DeWitt, ice princess act and all. No wonder she wanted to scare him off.

“What did you say?”

He toyed with the front of his suit jacket, thankful that it was buttoned up so it would hide any hint of the erection he’d just gotten at that small gesture of hers. “I said, I’m not here to mess up your life, all right?”

She got to her feet, smoothed her skirt, and then came around to his side. She extended her hand. “Let me see that letter.”

Finally, he was getting somewhere. Eager, Jonathan held both of them out to her.

Violet skimmed the letters, and then cast him another puzzled look.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Where did you get that I was married?”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m not married. Wherever did you get that idea?”

The blood began to roar in Jonathan’s ears. He watched, entranced, as she pushed a lock of hair behind her other ear. It made both of her ears stick out—which he remembered that she hated—but he found adorable. His Violet.

He’d given up on her so long ago because she’d married someone only days after she’d left his bed, and he’d regretted it ever since.

“You—” He coughed, irritated at how hoarse his voice was. He felt like all the blood had rushed to his face . . . well, that and one other extremity. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “You called off the wedding?”

Again, she gave him a curious look. “What wedding?”

“Your father said that when you left . . . you married someone else. Right away.”

She raised both eyebrows at him, as if to say really? “And you believed him? Jonathan, your family was funding all of his digs at the time. He’d have told you cows flew on the moon if it was what it took to keep you at his side.”

Well, goddamn it all. He’d known that Phineas was a sly old dog, but he’d had no idea he’d been taken for a ride on something so important. “You’re . . . not married?”

“I don’t see why it’s any of your business—” She yelped as he grabbed her hand in his. It was just as soft as he remembered, her nails bitten short. It was a habit she’d never been able to break. There was no ring on any finger.

He’d been lied to.

He should have been furious. Filled with anger and hate and loathing that ten years had been wasted, ten years that had kept them apart.

But Jonathan didn’t see any of that. All he saw was Violet—his Violet—standing so close to him that he could reach out and touch her again for the first time in so long that his entire being ached. Violet, with her hand in his. Never mind that she was trying to draw it out of his grasp.

His Violet was here, in front of him, and she’d never married. He’d be damned if he’d let opportunity slip through his fingers again.

Grabbing her shoulders, Jonathan turned her toward him fully, leaned down, and pressed his mouth firmly to hers. He kissed her with all the fierce passion of ten long, lonely years. She wasn’t responding, but that was okay. He had enough need and love for both of them. She’d come around. He’d show her just how much he missed her. He’d never let her go again. He—

Violet’s knee went between his legs, and connected with his groin.

By the time Violet left work, went to the grocery store, went to the gym, got home, and cleaned her tiny condo, she was still pissed. In fact, she was furious.

How dare Jonathan Lyons stroll back into her life just because her father died? How dare he think that she would drop everything—her life, her career—to help him out on some wild-goose chase that her father had bestowed like some sort of archaeological version of Willy Wonka?

How dare Jonathan think that he could just grab her and kiss her? Simply because she wasn’t married?

A lack of a wedding ring didn’t mean she was up for grabs; it didn’t mean she didn’t hate him with every fiber of her being. Fuming, Violet threw her groceries in the fridge, and then cussed when her carton of milk tipped over and spilled all over her carton of freshly washed spinach. Damn it! Swearing a blue streak, Violet grabbed paper towels and cleaned her fridge, and when she went to wash her hands, she noticed they were still shaking.

She was still trembling with fury, hours later, her nails bitten down to the quick.

She didn’t want to deal with this. Any of this. Her life was nice and compartmentalized. If it wasn’t exciting, it was safe and secure and there were no surprises. Violet didn’t like surprises. They always ended up being disappointments.

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