Page 31 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

Duncan went on. “I’m buying this incredible house. You can hang out there. Hide away, read, or whatever it is you do.”

He noticed that I like reading? I suppose I had occasionally brought a new book in to read during my lunch break. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or offended by his casual throw-away remark.

“You’ll be safe there. You won’t have to make nice with the family until my grandma’s birthday.”

What did my safety have to do with anything? “Your grandma?” I asked.

“At this point, thanks to my mother, she probably already thinks you’re my girlfriend.”

“Then she needs to be set straight.”

“I completely agree.”

“You—what?”

No, he didn’t. He’d just told me he wanted me to come as his date.

Hands shaking, he rifled something from his pocket. Something small, square, and rounded on the edges. All of my insides dropped to my stomach.

“Is that—Duncan, what are you doing with a ring box?”

He cracked open its lid, revealing a stunning diamond ring inside. Light caught on the diamond’s facets, making it sparkle. My stomach gave way this time. It plunged straight to my toes.

What did he think he was doing?

“I was thinking of something more along the lines of fiancée.”

I was shell-shocked. He bought me a RING?

I mean, spending outrageous amounts of money on things out of the blue wasn’t uncommon, but rings symbolized a far bigger commitment to a person than a punching bag did.

I held out my hands. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Come on, Rosabel. I wasn’t kidding that she won’t be around much longer. She’s ninety-five.”

“That’s yesterday’s eighty these days.” What with all the medical care available.

“Yes, but she’s already had a stroke. It’s her wish to see me happily settled down or something. Assuming she speaks to me while we’re there.”

I gaped. Was he in the middle of a squabble with his grandma? Such a thing sounded almost absurd.

Whether he was being truthful now or not, I wasn’t ready to dive into whatever that meant. No need to get him off on another tangent before we’d resolved this one.

He hedged the ring box in my direction.

I pushed it back down again, and that line between his brows deepened.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Really.”

“Then what’s the problem? I got your size. You told me what it was last Christmas when I got you that one.”

He stroked the knuckle of my hand, indicating the jade-green braided ring he’d given me. The unexpected touch shivered straight up my arm, making me catch my breath. I yanked my hand free, but his touch was still branded into my skin.

He’d been crafty and had asked Charity to get my ring size back to him without telling me. You want to talk about rumors in the office? Charity had let it slip, and the next morning, women had chittered, asking me if he’d popped the question yet.

I’d assured them I had no intentions of marrying Duncan Hawthorne.

That much hadn’t changed.

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