Billionaire Boys Club 5 : Romancing the Billionaire(32)

Violet fastened her seat belt and tightened it. "Can I just say how happy I am that you're not flying this plane?"

He tried not to gaze overlong at the way she smoothed her clothes and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable. Instead, he pulled out his phone and pretended to read something on the screen. "I've had hundreds of hours in the cockpit, Violet. I'm a good pilot."




 

 

"Yes, but it feels weird to me to have someone I know driving it. You're more fallible than a nameless, faceless expert."

He smiled faintly. More fallible? "Because I'm human in your eyes?"

She looked startled, her gaze flicking to his. "I . . . guess so."

Judging from the look on her face and the blush staining her cheeks, she didn't like to think of him as human. He supposed it was easier for her to think of him as a monster, a jerk who'd left her and their baby high and dry. His gut clenched at the thought, and he felt the urge to vomit.

She had every right to think of him as the world's biggest ass**le. Now he just had to prove to her that he was a regular man. A regular man who needed to hide the fact that he was still madly, ferociously in love with a woman who wanted nothing more than a tentative friendship.

But he'd do any amount of playacting to keep Violet at his side.

"So where are we going now?" Violet asked him, her hands clasped in her lap, her gaze focusing on him again. "You haven't said."

He drank in the sight of her, admiring her lush form, the way her dark hair brushed against her jaw until she tucked it back behind one of those ears that stuck out a little more than she liked. Her lovely dark brown eyes with the long lashes. Her small frame that seemed to be composed entirely of rounded curves that he could stare at for hours on end and never grow tired of.

"Jonathan?" She snapped her fingers at him. "Hello?"

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?"