It was like he’d slapped her across the face.

The last ten years didn’t happen? Like hell they didn’t. Violet’s body went cold. Her heart felt like ice. “But the last ten years did happen. We can’t change that.”

“It’s just a bad memory now.”

She flinched. It wasn’t just a bad memory for her. Fuck that. She’d been abandoned and devastated, and had lost everything. He’d mooned over her while living the high life. She’d rebuilt herself over again.

He might have spent the last ten years longing for her in-between archaeological expeditions and trips all over the world, but she’d been through hell. She’d been through hell . . . and come out the other side a stronger, more independent person. She knew the difference between love, lust, and need.

And she wasn’t about to forget the last ten years simply because she was lusting after Jonathan right now.

Ten years ago, Violet DeWitt had needed Jonathan Lyons and he’d abandoned her. The twenty-nine-year-old Violet DeWitt didn’t need anyone.

And even after ten years, Jonathan Lyons still didn’t understand her.

Calmly, Violet refolded the letter and placed it in its envelope, and held it out to Jonathan to take. “Just because you don’t want to think about the last ten years doesn’t mean that they didn’t happen. They aren’t a mistake you can erase. You can’t pretend they don’t exist. It happened, and we need to learn from it.”

Even as she said the words, she felt a twinge of remorse. Ten years ago, being in Jonathan’s bed had gotten her pregnant and abandoned. Now it seemed she was making the same mistakes all over again.

“Violet, that’s not what I meant—” He reached for her.

She drew away, getting to her feet. “I need to think, Jonathan.”

He got to his feet as well, following her as she headed for the door. “Where are you going?”

“Back to my room.”

“So you can think? Think about what?”

She looked at him calmly. “Maybe I’m going to think about the last ten years. Because they sure as hell happened for me.”

“Violet, you know I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Actually, Jonathan, I don’t know that.” Her voice was ice. “I do know I made a mistake ten years ago when I fell into your bed, got into trouble, and expected you to come rescue me. That rescue never came and I had to learn the hard way that you can’t depend on anyone but yourself. And here I am, ten years later, back in the same position I found myself in before. And I’m not very proud of that.”

Jonathan’s face had gone stark. “Violet,” he breathed. “I love you. That hasn’t changed—”

Softly, she patted him on the chest. “You might not have changed, Jonathan, but I have. And now I need time to think.”

She turned to the door and opened it, only to find Jonathan’s hand on her arm. “Violet. Please don’t go.” There was a wealth of pain in his voice. “What I said, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” she said. “I know you didn’t mean it harshly. But it still stands—you don’t mind forgetting the last ten years, and I do. I can’t go back to that girl I was. And I need you to want the woman I am.”

“I do—”

She gave him a soft, sweet smile. “And I need to see if I still want the same things I did ten years ago.” She pulled her hand from his chest. “I need to think, Jonathan. Just let me be for a bit, all right?”

And Violet turned and left, not entirely sure if she was pleased or relieved—or disappointed—that he didn’t follow her out.

—

It’s like the last ten years didn’t happen.

It’s just a bad memory now.

Those two lines played in Violet’s mind over and over again, like a bad recording stuck on a loop. She lay flat on her back on her bed all afternoon, unmoving and staring at the ceiling as she thought.

She thought about Jonathan—the Jonathan of the past, and the Jonathan of the present. She thought about her father and his manipulative games. She thought about the baby she’d lost ten years ago. She thought about her job back in Detroit, her students, her friends, and her colleagues there.

Jonathan wanted to pretend like the past just didn’t happen, and she couldn’t do that. And it hurt to think that he’d even suggest such a thing. Mistakes had happened, and she’d learned from them, grown from them. Grew smarter, stronger, tougher. She’d hurt, she’d cried, and she’d learned.

She couldn’t go back to the girl she was ten years ago, and she didn’t want to.

And for Jonathan to ask her to do that wounded her soul.

He didn’t know her at all if he said that to her. Then again, he hadn’t gone through the pain of loss that she had. She’d grieved both a relationship and a baby. His words made her wonder if he’d ever really felt as if he’d lost her, or if he’d temporarily written her off.

And now that they’d spent a few weeks together, he expected her to just jump back into bed with him and into his life as if no time had passed?

To be fair, she was the idiot crawling all over his bed, so she wasn’t blameless. Even though she loved being with Jonathan again, sexually, she still didn’t know how she felt about that gap in their relationship. She didn’t know if she could ever get past that. The sex was great, but what was sex without love? Jonathan said he loved her, but . . . she didn’t know.

She just didn’t know anything anymore.

FOURTEEN

After agonizing for hours, Violet made up her mind.

She quietly packed her bags and dressed for a flight home. She called in a ticket at the airport, arranged for a taxi, and when she could put it off no longer, she headed down the hall for Jonathan’s room.

Her heart ached and felt like a stone in her breast. Just this morning, she’d been happy, so incredibly, stupidly happy. But that happiness was exceedingly fragile; it had only taken one offhand comment from Jonathan for her to realize just how much they didn’t know about each other.

And she was too responsible now to plunge headlong into another bad relationship that would only leave her aching and empty again. Better to cut her losses now, while she still could. If she got in any deeper, she might not be able to stand it.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Violet clutched her purse close and knocked at Jonathan’s hotel room door. She heard him bound across the room and the door swung open. Jonathan stood there, his shirt rumpled, his hair a mess, and his face looking tired and aged, despite the fact she’d seen him only a few hours ago.

“Violet,” he murmured, and held the door open wider. “Come in.”

“Actually,” she said softly, “I can’t.” Her heart ached and tears threatened. “I came to tell you good-bye.”

“No,” he breathed. His eyes narrowed, grew hard. “Violet, no. Don’t do this to me.” He reached for her as if he wanted to hold her, and then drew back, as if sensing she would pull away. “Violet, please. Let’s talk about this—”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Jonathan. I just . . . Coming here was a mistake. I allowed myself to be sucked in, and I think it’s time I went home and went back to my normal life before I get pulled in too deep. It was great seeing you, but I can’t do this.”

“We don’t have to go to your father’s grave,” he said quickly. The look in his eyes was tense. “We can forget he ever started this scavenger hunt bullshit. Just stay with me. Please.”

She shook her head, backing away a step or two. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is—”

“Make this more difficult?” He barked a laugh and it was hard, ugly. “It doesn’t seem like it’s difficult for you to leave me at all. This is the second time things have gotten intense and you’ve turned and ran.”

“That’s not fair.” She clutched her purse against her side like it was a lifeline.

“I don’t give a shit about fair, Violet. I love you.” His voice was ragged, and the pain on his face was terrible to see. “I’ve always loved you. It’s never changed.”

“But I’ve changed, Jonathan. I think that’s where we keep having a difference of opinion. I have changed and I don’t know that you have.” Her smile was apologetic, sad.

“You’re not even giving me a chance. Goddamn it, Violet, at least give me a chance!”

She knew she wasn’t. But she also knew she didn’t have to give him a chance. It was obvious to her how these things would turn out. “Let’s say I did. Let’s say I jumped right back into your bed and we continued on our merry way. What then?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what happens next for us?”

He looked exasperated by her question. “Whatever you want. I don’t care, Violet, as long as we’re together. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Yes, but you have a life, and friends. So do I. You have archaeological expeditions you’re supporting and a car company to run. I have school to teach. You’re based out of New York, aren’t you? I’m in Detroit. These things don’t mesh really well. When would we see each other?”

He opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut again, eyes narrowing as if sensing a trap.

She raised a hand into the air, a mute apology. “I know. There’s no right answer. You can’t just give up your business and your pursuits to come hang out with me while I teach, and I can’t just abandon school and my students just so I can be your girlfriend.”

“Violet—”

She shook her head. “Don’t you see? We’ve moved on. Moved past.”

“I don’t see that at all,” he said, his voice rising. “I see you trying to shut me out again—”

“That’s not true—”

“You won’t even let me finish a sentence,” he snapped. “Is it because you won’t like what I’m trying to say? Because it’s easier to just decide that you already have your mind made up about me, and you’ll just go on with your life without me?”

Her mouth clamped shut and she glared at him, irritation rising to the forefront. She’d been hurting when she’d approached his door, and now he was trying to turn this around on her? When he didn’t say anything else—heaven forbid she interrupt him—she gave a small sigh. “I’m not here to argue with you—”

“No, you’re just here to leave me.” He raked a hand through his hair and looked so tormented that she felt a twinge of doubt. “Violet, please. Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen. I just don’t want to lose you again.”

Her mouth forced itself into a wobbling smile. “What’s that old saying about loving something and setting it free?”

“Don’t,” he said harshly, and he averted his face, as if in pain.

“I’m sorry, Jonathan. I just . . . I just can’t. I can’t rely on anyone else for my happiness. It has to come from within me.”

“You make me happy, Violet.”

His eyes were curiously shiny, and that made her heart ache even more. It made what she had to say doubly difficult. “Yes, but I’m not sure if I feel the same.”

He closed his eyes. “Let me try to make you happy. Please, Violet. Just give me a chance.”

She shook her head. “Good-bye, Jonathan. Don’t come after me, okay? Set me free.”

Before he could say anything else, she leaned forward, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then turned and raced for the elevator. If she looked back, she’d regret it. If she saw the pain in his eyes, it would just compound the pain she was feeling right now. But she knew that this was pain she could get over. She’d gotten over it once. She could do so again.