Billionaire Boys Club 5 : Romancing the Billionaire(6)

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

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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.

So she took a shower, changed into flannel pajamas, read a mystery novel in bed, and went to sleep. Or tried to, anyhow. Her entire body was a locked mass of angry nerves, and she stared up at the ceiling, just brimming with frustration.

Jonathan Lyons had kissed her.

He'd waltzed back into her life like he hadn't abandoned her ten years ago, when she'd needed him the most. Still selfish after all these years. Some people never changed. She thought of the look on his face as she'd kneed him in the balls. It hadn't even been satisfying, really. She'd been so damn angry, and he'd looked so shocked and utterly surprised.

And hurt.

Like he couldn't believe that his Violet would harm him.

And that just made her crazier with anger. Like she was the unreasonable one. Twitching with frustration, Violet threw back the covers and stormed across the bedroom and into the living room. Her messy condo was tiny, but she didn't require a lot. She just needed a work area and a bed. Heading to her shelves full of books, she went to the section where she kept personal photo albums. Her mother's albums filled up most of the shelf, but there was one tiny album she pulled from the end and blew the dust off of.

The cover was decorated with a Greek key design, and she'd written AKROTIRI 2004 on it in bold, stylized letters. Returning to her bedroom, she curled up in the blankets and began to flip through the photos.

Her first-and only-trip to assist her errant father. Her mother had been against it, but Violet had been so excited to go, so very dazzled at the thought of spending the summer with her intelligent, famous father that she'd looked forward to it for what felt like forever. People joked that her dad was something like Jacques Cousteau for archaeology. She supposed that would be apt, if Jacques had neglected his family for two decades and driven his wife to drinking.

Violet flipped through the photos, thinking of that summer. Here was a picture of herself and her father near the excavation, pointing at a portion of a wall and smiling. Both of their faces were browned from the summer, and her hair was in two long, dark braids streaked with wild color. She was wearing a hideous pair of sunglasses and a tank top. Behind her in the picture, his hand at her waist, was Jonathan Lyons.

God, she'd been so in love with him. So incredibly stupid, but in love. As soon as she'd gotten to Santorini to spend the time with her father, she'd discovered that he'd invited a whole host of his students to his summer expedition as well. She'd been hurt, initially, having thought that she'd be special in her father's eyes, but her hurt soon turned to interest when she met Jonathan Lyons. Lyons Motors was famous-or infamous-for a line of cars that was rapidly becoming a joke, and he wasn't interested in the family business at all. Thin, a little geeky, and utterly enthusiastic about everything in the world, she'd thought Jonathan was cute. 

There was something so incredibly exuberant and earnest about Jonathan that she'd loved. Whereas every move her father made seemed to be completely calculated, Jonathan appeared to live in the moment, and she adored that. His excitement for the dig was unquestionable. He'd been the first on site every morning and the last to leave. If something needed to be researched, Jonathan threw himself headlong into it.

He was a hundred percent intensity, bundled into an attractive nineteen-year-old college boy.

He'd been irresistible to her.

By the end of the first week, they were spending a lot of time together. By the second week, he'd kissed her and she'd flung him down on her bed and they'd screwed like rabbits. By the time a month had passed, she was in love.