Page 45 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

The moment I reached the last room on the left, my breath caught.

The window across from the bed provided an incredible view of Beaver Lake. The water was fringed with trees, their green shades offsetting the crystal-blue water. Other substantial homes were visible across the lake’s breadth, which was marked with docks and boat launches.

Not only that, but sequestered in Duncan’s backyard was a lovely rose garden. Roses in every shade spread their happy light in the space between his house and the lake, and I tingled to go a-roving and explore. Or, at least, to have this as my view every single day.

“This is the one,” I said to no one but myself.

I broke deeper into the room and placed my bag on the bed, staking my claim. This was just the sort of room I’d always dreamed of having. Comfortable and spacious, with a cushy chair in the corner positioned at just the right angle to either look outside or in.

The bed was made with a soft pink comforter stitched over with velvet paisley designs. I ran my hand along its surface, feeling the soft fabric. A few steps took me to a walk-in closet whose bare shelves seemed strange in the otherwise staged house.

Inside the closet, a fat stool twice the size of regular stools marked the center. It looked so cushy, I couldn’tnotsit on it. I strode in, running my hand along its surface, too. It was a velvety rose color as well, coordinating perfectly with the bedspread in the main room.

I sank onto the stool and gazed upward, wondering just how many clothes a person would need to fill all of these shelves when Duncan’s shouts carried from below, breaking through my reverie.

Grimacing, I closed my eyes.

“And there’s the Duncan I know,” I muttered, reminding myself not to forget who I came here with.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Duncan’s voice hammered. “There’s no way I can make the trip back there by tomorrow. We just got here.”

He paused, listening to whoever was on the other end.

“I told you I’d dive in at that price, but if you can’t make your end, than I’m not going to take the risk.”

Another pause.

“You know what? I’m off duty now. This is my vacation. I can’t believe you can’t make this work.”

Work. That was what this was. I was here to work.

Reluctantly, I rose from the plush stool and strode to the door, crossing the handful of feet between my room and the landing overlooking the living room below.

Duncan had removed his suit coat. The sleeves of his tailored blue shirt were rolled to his elbows—something he must have done after Nicole showed him to his room. He paced on the rug between the posh seating area and in front of the fireplace, which was also near a large door leading onto a deck out back.

He lowered the phone only to have it light up once more. Tapping the screen, he lifted it to his ear. His tone and facial expression shifted instantly.

“Mom. Hi, yes, we made it. Today?” He paused. “Rosabel needs some time to settle in. I—okay, if you think it’s best.”

I was taken aback. Was he really concerned about my well-being? Or was he just using me as an excuse not to visit his parents yet?

He didn’t snap at his mother, but I tried to make sense of his hesitation. Something told me he wasn’t using me as a cop-out. He’d sounded genuine. Probably trying to keep his word. He’d assured me we wouldn’t have to see his family until his grandma’s party.

Confusion knotted in my stomach. I felt like a newly launched ping pong ball being smacked from one side of the table to the other.

He’d joked and acted relaxed around his staff, but that conversation with his mom sounded stilted. Forced. Uncomfortable.

Something was bothering him about his family, but what could it be?

He could have just come for the party, stayed in a hotel, and then flown back to Vermont when all of this was over. Why had he come all the way out here? Why buy this massive house andbring hisstaffwith him? Sarah had mentioned the two-month thing. Why did he plan on being here so long?

He’d mentioned something about his grandma not speaking to him. Did that have something to do with his edginess?

I tiptoed back down the stairs. He stood with his back to me, tapping his phone on the side of one of the leather couches. The tension had returned to his shoulders.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

He didn’t immediately answer. His attention was focused on the back windows, on the fantastic view of the lake below, the same view that had made me pick the room I had upstairs.

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