And what could she say to that? She pulled her hand from his—trying not to think about the feel of his fingertips on her skin, grazing delicate patterns there—and gestured at her suitcase. “So . . . are we going to start our madcap little journey again?”

“I’m ready if you are.”

“Um.” She considered his disheveled, hungover appearance. “Please tell me you’re going to let someone else fly the plane this time?”

He laughed. “For you, I can do that.”

She smiled.

—

A few hours later, they were buckling themselves into seats inside the private jet that Jonathan had chartered. Violet had taken one of the seats in the back of the plane, and Cade, Jonathan saw, took a seat in the front, most likely so he could give Jonathan and Violet some privacy to chat.

He decided maybe he wouldn’t kill Cade after all.

Jonathan slid into a seat across from Violet, pleased when she didn’t flinch or frown as he did so. Instead, she gave him a tentative smile and he returned it.

It was a fresh start. He was so f**king relieved that they were trying again that he didn’t even care that they’d vowed to be just friends. He’d take any piece of Violet he could get in his life. If he was friend-zoned permanently, then he’d live with that, just as long as she wasn’t glaring at him with hatred any longer.

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?”

“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.

“Looks like everyone’s here,” Logan said. “This meeting of the Brotherhood is officially called to order.”

“Fratres in prosperitatum,” they said in unison, raising their glasses. Jonathan raised an empty one for the toast. When Reese offered him a bottle of his favorite Scotch, he shook his head. Normally he had a glass just to be social, but the thought of it crossing his lips today seemed revolting. He wouldn’t touch it, not with Violet waiting for him.

“So, boys, what’s on the business menu tonight?” Gretchen picked up the deck of cards and began to shuffle, ignoring the looks the others sent her way. “World domination?”

No one said anything.

She sighed. “Eventually you guys are going to talk business in front of me. Eventually.”

“Not tonight,” Reese said, and only grinned when Gretchen flipped him the bird.

Impatiently, Jonathan tossed his ante into the pile. “So no business tonight?” Why had he come to the meeting, then? He thought of Violet, sitting out in his car, and he longed to be beside her, just drinking in her presence.

“Down, boy,” Cade murmured. “It’ll do you good to give her a breather.”

Jonathan glared at him.

“Give who a breather?” Griffin asked, turning to them.

“No one,” Jonathan said before Cade could respond. His relationship with Violet was . . . private. Private and rather tangled.

Cade nodded in Griffin’s direction. “How’s that lovely Southern belle of yours? She still adjusting to being the next Viscountess Montagne Verdi?”

Count on Cade to say the right thing to distract the man. Jonathan bit back a smile as Griffin grimaced, swiping his cards off the table.

“We are having visitors this week,” Griffin said, tone clipped. “My town house is currently infested with ‘Mama and them.’ They’re helping Maylee pick a location for the wedding.”