Romancing the Billionaire (9 page)

The man waiting in the lobby for her was dressed in an elegant gray suit and had to be just about the prettiest man Violet had ever seen. He was angelic looking, from his blond hair to his shining blue eyes and his perfectly tanned skin. Good lord. “Um, Cade?”

He strolled forward, extending his hand. “Cade Archer.”

She shook it, giving him a nervous smile. “Violet DeWitt.”

“You look just as Jonathan described you.”

She blinked in surprise. “He described me to you?”

“In glowing terms,” Cade said, tucking her arm into the crook of his and leading her toward the hotel's elevator. Then he gave her a wry grin. “He was also drunk as a skunk.”

She wanted to laugh, but it only made her feel a bit bitter. “So he only brings me up when he's drunk?”

“That's the only time Jonathan ever opens up,” Cade agreed. “The rest of the time, he's locked down tighter than Fort Knox. If you want to go cliff diving, he's your man. If you want to talk about feelings, he's the last person you'd head to.”

Violet chewed on her lip as she considered this. “Does he have a drinking problem, then? I can't seem to get him to stop.”

Cade shook his head. “I've known him to drink all of twice in the time I've known him. The other time was at his father's funeral. He was beside himself with grief. Got drunk, talked a ton about you, and then clammed up and refused to speak of anything again afterward.”

Well, that didn't make her feel much better. “I don't know what to do to get him to stop drinking right now. I . . . We fought and I said some harsh things. I guess I hurt him worse than I imagined.”

He gave her a friendly smile. “I find that hard to believe.”

He also hadn't seen Jonathan the last few days. Violet shrugged. “He's in a funk. We're supposed to be searching for a message left for us from my father, but Jonathan won't get out of bed. Or if he does, he heads to the bar. I'm trapped until we finish this.”

“Trapped?” Cade looked curious.

“Trapped,” she agreed flatly. “He's basically bribing people to keep me at his side, all under the guise of being charitable.”

“That . . . also doesn't sound like Jonathan.”

“Is that so,” Violet said politely. “Perhaps you and I should compare Jonathans and see which one is the real one. Because he and I seem to be having a hell of a time together.”

“Well,” Cade said as they strolled across the lobby. “The Jonathan I know is extremely loyal. Very passionate about his work, and willing to do anything to win someone over to his cause. He's a bit single-minded but a good man. Very intense. Very determined. And a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”

Okay, so that did sound like him. “Don't forget the part about not being able to keep his hands off of women.”

That time, Cade gave her a curious look. “Really? I've never known Jonathan to act like that. He's been groping women in front of you? The Jonathan I know keeps himself closed off. I don't ever recall him having a steady girlfriend.”

Her cheeks pinked. He'd been groping
her
, not other women. She thought of the photo in his wallet. No condom, no other women's phone numbers or pictures stuffed into his billfold. Just a picture of her with zinc on her nose. “Like I said,” she fidgeted. “I guess we're seeing two different men.”

“Strange,” Cade murmured, but he didn't argue with her.

They went up to the bar. It was busier due to the time of night, but Violet still had no trouble finding Jonathan's table. She just looked for the one with the most bottles in the darkest corner. Yep, there he was. Violet sighed and pointed. “At the table in the back. He's busy trying to drink himself into a stupor again.”

“Damn.” Cade rubbed his jaw and looked over at Violet curiously. “What exactly did you say to him?”

“It's . . . personal. So you'll handle him from here?”

“You don't want to stick around?” He looked surprised.

Her smile was bittersweet. “I don't think he wants me around at the moment. I'm sorry.” Violet gave Cade an apologetic look and hustled off before he could ask further questions.

It was cowardly of her to run, but she couldn't handle things at the moment. Her mind was spinning. She didn't know who—or what—to believe anymore.

J
onathan barely glanced up from his bottle of Scotch as someone sat down at his table. To his surprise, it looked like his friend, Cade. He closed his eyes, and then rubbed them. “Damn. I think I'm drinking too much.”

“What's on the menu?” Cade asked, picking up a bottle and sniffing it. He winced. “Jesus, man. Did you buy up all the decent brands already?”

He shrugged. “Alcohol is alcohol.”

“And you're not one to drink.” Cade waved someone over. “Can I get a glass, please? And two waters.” He turned back to Jonathan. “So, you want to say what's bothering you?”

Jonathan poured himself another drink and slugged it down. “My life is fucking rotten, that's what.”

“Odd thing to hear from a man who seems to love mountain climbing and chasing down lost cities.”

“All dumb shit to pass the time,” Jonathan said. “It's all bullshit that doesn't fucking matter.” Nothing mattered because ten years ago, he'd had Violet and she was carrying his child . . . and he'd pissed it all away to go gallivanting around the world with a man who lied to his face while pretending to be his friend and mentor.

Christ, he was a fucking idiot. He'd given up Violet. His Violet. Jonathan rubbed his face again and moaned as the reality of it came crashing down again. “Cade, I'm such a fool.”

“Is this about that lovely woman who just ran off?” Cade sipped his drink, his expression friendly and understanding. Of course Cade wouldn't judge him. Cade never judged anyone. If ever there was a man who deserved to be sainted, it was Cade Archer. Jonathan couldn't even hate him for it.

Instead, he craned his neck, hoping for another glimpse of Violet. “Did she leave?”

“Couldn't get out of here fast enough.”

He stared down into his glass, thinking of Violet's wary brown eyes, her smooth hair, her lush figure that had only ripened with age. “She is beautiful, isn't she? She makes my heart hurt just to look at her. I see her face, and I see everything I could have had.” He shook his head and wanted to bang it on the table in frustration. “But I don't have any of it. I have nothing.”

“That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?” Cade squinted at him, analyzing him. “You've turned your family's fortunes around. You're one of the wealthiest men on the planet. You're a benefactor for dozens of charities. You're never cruel, you're generous with your money, and you have some really kick-ass friends.” He grinned at the last part. “It can't be all bad, can it?”

“But none of it matters because she hates me,” Jonathan snarled. His hand gripped his tumbler so tightly Cade thought it might shatter. “I'd give it all up in a heartbeat to know she loved me again.”

“I don't think she hates you,” Cade said quietly. “She wouldn't be this unsettled if she did.”

“What do you know? You've never lost anyone you loved. You have a perfect life.”

“Perfect,” Cade echoed, and his smile twisted a little, looking surprisingly brittle. “Are we confessing our sins, then? All right.” He leaned forward and poured himself a bigger drink, not looking at Jonathan. “I've loved and lost, too.”

“Who?” Jonathan didn't believe him. Cade was just spouting shit to make Jonathan feel better.

The blond man took a long swig of his drink and considered it for a time before looking up at Jonathan again. “Daphne Petty,” he said slowly.

Didn't ring a bell. Sounded familiar, but Jonathan's brain was skunked at the moment. “Am I supposed to know who that is?”

Cade's expression was rueful. “You might be the only one in the world that doesn't. Audrey's sister. Reese's Audrey.” When Jonathan's expression remained bland, Cade continued. “Reese Durham? Your buddy in the Brotherhood? Ladies' man? His wife's twin sister is Daphne. She's a singer. The one with the purple wig and the plastic bikinis and the tattoos?”

A memory sparked. “Was she in a men's magazine last month?”

“Probably.”

“Yeah, I think I jerked off to her.” He hadn't, not really. Violet was the only one who got his dick hard. He just wanted to wipe that cheerful look off of Cade's face.

“Asshole.”

“So you're in love with her?” If he was thinking of the right girl, she was wild and more than a little badly behaved. Didn't seem like Cade's type at all. “The singer?”

“I was in love, yeah. Back in the day.” Cade considered his glass. “She got famous and she changed. She's not the same girl anymore, and I don't know what to think. All I know is that I feel like she's the one that got away.” He gave Jonathan a thin smile. “So. You're not alone in the heartbreak corner.”

He was surprised to hear all of that coming from Cade. “Yeah, but you didn't destroy her life, did you?”

“No, she seems to be doing that well enough on her own,” Cade said flatly.

“Well, I destroyed Violet.” Jonathan thought of the pain in her eyes. A baby. There had been a baby and he'd never known. She'd lost it after she'd gone home. Had it been because she was so stressed and unhappy to be abandoned? Probably. He could lay the blame for that at his own feet, as well. It just made him hate himself more. “I've dreamed of her for ten years, Cade. Missed her with every waking moment. And now I find out that she hates me and she'll always hate me. It's like a knife in my gut.” Despair threatened to overwhelm him. “I'll never get her back now. Ever.”

“Maybe it's time for both of you to start over,” Cade said. “It's been ten years. You're both different people than you were before.”

Maybe. He just didn't know if Violet would ever give him that chance. He'd fucked it all up ten years ago. There might never be a chance to fix it now.

—

Someone knocked at Violet's hotel room door a few hours later, just before she was about to go to sleep. Curious, she pulled on a robe and peered through the peephole. Cade. Violet unlatched the door and opened it a crack. “Is everything okay?”

Cade flashed her a brief smile. “Well, he's drunk again.”

“This isn't surprising. He's been drunk for the last few days. I'm pretty sure he's spent more time drunk than sober since we've been together.”

“He's pretty miserable at the moment,” Cade said, glancing down the hallway. Violet craned her neck out the door and caught sight of a man sprawled in a chair at the end of the hall, a bottle tucked under his arm.

“Yes, he looks
quite
miserable,” she said in a droll voice. “I'm sure he's quick to blame me for all of this.”

“Actually, no. He blames himself.” Cade glanced at her, then down the hall. “He's pretty sure he's destroyed his own life and ruined yours, and places responsibility for his actions squarely on his own doorstep.”

She felt a twinge of pity at that. “Well, you can assure him I'm just fine.”

“I would if I could get a word in edgewise.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he's constantly quoting poetry at me. Watch.” Cade stepped into the hall a few paces. “Jonathan? Ready to go upstairs?”

“‘I was a child and she was a child,'” singsonged the drunk voice down the hall. “‘In this kingdom by the sea. But we loved with a love that was more than love—I and my Annabel Lee!'”

Someone in the next room banged on the wall in response.

Violet pressed her fingertips to her mouth to keep from laughing. It wasn't funny. It wasn't. “Is that Edgar Allan Poe?”

“Is that what it is?” Cade grimaced. “It's godawful.”

“I think so. I took some poetry classes in college and it sounds familiar.” She'd been majorly into poetry back when she'd started college. She hadn't known that Jonathan knew poetry. Was this another facet of him that had cropped up in the last ten years, or had it always been there and she'd never noticed? “So you couldn't get him to stop drinking?”

“He was already wrecked, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to get a few more details out of him before I implement my plan.”

She tilted her head at him, curious. “Your plan?”

“Yes.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together, looking so utterly boyish that she wanted to smile back. “Phase one—glean information. Phase two—strategy. Phase three—execution.”

“It all sounds very corporate.”

“It does, doesn't it?” He seemed rather pleased with himself.

Down the hall, Jonathan began to drunkenly ramble again, voice singsonging another poem that he was slurring too much for her to make out.

She glanced down the hall at him, and played with the high neck of her robe. “Should you, um, stop him?”

“Nah. I'm going to let him get it all out of his system. As of tomorrow morning, he's not going to want another drink.”

“You sound very confident.”

“Trust me. I know what makes Jonathan tick. I just need your word that you'll go along with everything I throw at you.”

“Me? What's my part in this?”

“Just that. I'll come get you for breakfast, and anything I suggest to you, just agree with it. We'll get Jonathan out of his funk and back on the road with you in a heartbeat.”

She wasn't sure if that was the case, but Cade seemed awfully confident. “If you say so.”

“Great. See you then. I'll get that one off to bed.” He gestured at Jonathan, then walked away.

“Wait!” When he turned, Violet couldn't help but ask, “So what did he tell you?”

Cade smiled mysteriously, but his words were blunt. “That he's still madly in love with you and regrets that he's lost you forever.”

For some reason, those words made her feel a sharp, unhappy little stab in her heart.
He's lost you forever.
Of course she knew that was what this was about, right? Still, hearing the words spoken aloud made her feel anxious and a little unhappy. She wasn't sure she wanted to be lost forever. “I'm fine with being friends with him,” she confessed. “I just can't trust him with more.”

“I understand,” Cade said. “And I'm not judging. See you in the morning, Violet.” He gave her a nod and walked away. A moment later, she heard him moving to Jonathan's side, encouraging the drunk man to get out of his chair and back to his room.

As she shut the door on them, Violet caught a few more lines of Jonathan's drunken poetry spouting. “‘And this maiden,'” he rambled, “‘she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.'”

“Come on,” Cade murmured, and then they were silent.

But Violet had the words ringing through her head for a long time afterward.
She lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.

The “Annabel Lee” poem had a wretched ending, if she remembered correctly.

—

The next morning, promptly at nine, someone knocked at Violet's door.

She answered it, her brain full of whirling, uneasy questions. She'd had a sleepless night, filled with more dreams of Jonathan and lovemaking, and it made her restless. There was a rational reason she kept dreaming about his mouth on her skin, she told herself. She hadn't had sex in well over a year, and now she was hanging out with an ex-lover. It made plenty of sense.

Sensible explanation or not, she was still waking up aching and full of need every morning, and today was no different.

She'd dressed conservatively, though, since she didn't know what Cade's great plan was to get Jonathan out of his funk. She'd worn slacks and flats, along with a plain black boatneck sweater. It would be serviceable clothing for just about any situation. Still, when she answered the door and saw Cade standing there in another impeccable gray suit, she wondered if she was underdressed.

“Violet,” he greeted her cheerfully. “You look lovely this morning.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, stepping out of her room and making sure the door was locked behind her. She didn't see Jonathan, and strangely enough, she was disappointed. “Are we alone?”

“No—” Cade began.

“Why? Did you want to be?” From around the corner, Jonathan walked slowly toward them, sunglasses covering his eyes. He scowled at Cade, who only gave her an oblivious smile.

“Why, no,” Violet said, surprised. “I was just curious. What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Everything, if my brain is any judge of things,” Jonathan said bluntly. “My head is fucking killing me.”

“That's your own fault.” She couldn't stop staring at his hair. It was an absolute disaster, and several days' worth of beard growth was lining his jaw. He looked like a mess. A deeply, deeply hungover mess. So she increased the volume of her voice. “I'm
starving.
Shall we go down and eat?”

Cade offered her his arm with a smile, and she took it.

Jonathan just scowled at both of them.

When they got to the hotel dining room, Cade insisted on pulling her chair out for her so she could sit down. That earned him a sharp word from Jonathan. What was Cade's game? He seemed unruffled by Jonathan's increasingly sour mood, but it had to be an act of some kind. She spread her napkin on her lap, curious, and watched the men.