Romancing the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #5)(25)
Author: Jessica Clare

He blinked. “Sorry. Hangover’s killing my ability to think,” he lied. Far better for her to think of him as a mess due to the alcohol instead of the truth—that he was still endlessly fascinated by everything about her.

“That’s why I didn’t want you to fly,” she said with a pert nod. “Now, where are we going?”

“New York City first,” he said. “We need to drop Cade off and I have a meeting to attend tonight that I can’t miss.” It was Brotherhood night, something he’d almost forgotten in his drunken stupor, but since they were taking Cade to the city, he might as well take a few hours out of his schedule and put in his time as well.

“New York City?” She frowned. “First, you’re drunk for days and days, and now you’re going to make me sit and wait on you while you attend a business meeting? When are we going to hunt down this ‘Glirastes’?”

“Very soon,” Jonathan vowed. “I promise. If I could get out of this, I would. It’s something that’s been scheduled weeks in advance.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no anger in her face. “So your schedule is more important than mine?”

“Trust me when I say that nothing is more important to me right now than you.” God, it nearly choked him trying to keep those words light and easy so she wouldn’t get skittish on him. “I’m asking you to humor me . . . as a friend.” Another word that choked him—friend.

But it worked. She nodded. “All right.”

It was progress.

—

When the limo pulled up to the club, Jonathan watched as Violet wrinkled her nose. “Your business is in a nightclub?”

“It is,” he agreed.

Sitting across from them, Cade gave Violet an easy smile. “I know it looks strange, but I assure you, we’re not going to pick up women.”

“I wasn’t thinking that. Just . . . no more drinking, all right?” Her brows knitted with worry and she looked over at Jonathan.

“I won’t drink again,” he vowed, and he meant it. He must have caused her a lot more concern than she let on. His Violet carried steel-plated armor around her heart because she’d been hurt so many times by the people she loved. And he’d hurt her again, it seemed. For that, he wanted to kick himself. The thought of drinking more alcohol while knowing it would upset her? That was the furthest thing on his mind.

She nodded, clearly uneasy.

He reached out to touch her hand on the seat, unable to help himself. “We’ll be a few hours. I want you to wait with the car . . . for me.” He could call and get her a hotel so she could relax comfortably, but the thought of releasing Violet into New York made him anxious. He worried that if he turned his back, he’d find her gone.

“Stay in the car?” She clearly wasn’t a fan of the idea and pulled her hand away from his. “How long are you going to be?”

“I don’t know.” He pulled out his wallet and unfurled several bills, stuffing them into her grasp before she could protest. “Go shopping. Spend money. Something. Just stay with the limo, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

She watched him for a moment, then nodded, smoothing the money he’d handed her. “I’ll be here.”

“Thank you.” He wanted to reach over and kiss her again, but he didn’t dare. Clenching a fist to keep himself from grabbing her, he nodded. “Wait for me.”

Then, he followed Cade into the club.

Every week for years on end, the Brotherhood had met in the basement of the dingy club. Their secret society had been formed in college and continued on ever since. If at all possible, each man tried not to miss a meeting, as it inconvenienced his brothers. Jonathan was pretty sure he missed more meetings than most, given his proclivity for rushing off to the far ends of the earth on another mission.

Tonight, he wished he’d done the same. He was twitchy even as he and Cade pushed through the busy, noisy club and headed to the back, then down the long hall toward the basement. Hunter’s bodyguard was already there, standing to guard the door, and out of habit, Jonathan gave him the signal: he touched two fingers onto his shoulder and slid them over his arm down to where his tattoo was. Cade made the same gesture, and the man nodded and stepped aside.

Then, they headed into the smoky basement, the smell of cigars wafting through the air. As Jonathan stepped down the stairs behind Cade, he could hear one loud female voice above the murmur of the others. “Come on, flush! Momma needs a destination wedding!”

“That’d be Gretchen,” Cade said. “Again.”

Jonathan said nothing. Truth be told, he’d hated when Hunter started dragging his fiancée to all of their supposedly private meetings. It rather ruined the spirit of secrecy, but Hunter wouldn’t be deterred; if he was there, Gretchen would be there. The other men’s fiancées and wives knew about the club but didn’t show up like Gretchen did.

Used to be, he hated seeing Gretchen’s face across the poker table from him. Now? Now that Violet was back in his life? He got it. He understood that ravenous sort of possessiveness that made a man want to haul his woman to his side and never let her leave. Hell, he was practically itching to go and drag Violet out of the limo upstairs and bring her with him, but that would cause more questions than it would answer.

As they entered the room, Reese pulled his cigar from his mouth and gestured with it. “Well, well, if it isn’t the missing pair. We were starting to wonder if you two would show up.”

“We had business,” Cade said easily, heading toward his regular seat.

Jonathan said nothing, heading to his own chair and taking the chips offered him. Already at the table sat the inner circle of New York’s business elite. There was Logan Hawkings, billionaire conglomerate owner, who was currently staring at his cards with an impassive expression. There was Hunter Buchanan, a real-estate king who owned half of the eastern seaboard. His red-haired, disheveled fiancée Gretchen was currently perched in his lap, giggling gleefully over her cards as Hunter watched her with hungry fascination.

Across the table from them was Griffin Verdi, a European viscount with an aristocratic pedigree and Jonathan’s frequent co-funder on archaeological digs. He was simply shaking his head at Gretchen’s antics. Next to him was Reese Durham, recently married playboy who’d also recently acquired a series of cruise lines.

It seemed like over the last year, they’d all gone from bachelors to either married or heading in that direction. All except him and Cade, of course. He thought of Violet again, and a surge of intense longing buffeted through him. He’d gladly give up his bachelorhood for her.