Page 75 of Rosabel and the Billionaire Beast

“I’ve organized every paper in your office, and I’ve never seen or heard of anything called a ‘pact,’ nor have I seen anything involving a fraternity of any kind. Were you in a fraternity in college?”

“Does it matter?”

“You tell me.” I folded my arms and stared him down.

I knew I was asking for details about his personal life—something neither of us had ever done much of before. But things were different on this trip.Wewere different. This wasn’t a boss-employee kind of thing. It was…

What was it? Friends?

Did I consider Duncan a friend? This was what I’d do with Sarah or any of my other friends from college. If they were upset, I’d ask questions and let them know I was there if they wanted to talk.

I’d never really had guy friends before. Pete Dalton had been my boyfriend, yes, but even then, we hadn’t been confidants.

So yeah, I guess this was a friendship kind of thing. Plus, it was plain, old-fashioned curiosity. He and Eudora had talked about this pact thing like it was some kind of secret.

And I wanted in.

“You can talk to me,” I told him, wanting him to know as much. “Please. I understand if you don’t want to, but I’m here.”

His eyes closed as though the notion was painful. How could my presence here be this difficult for him?

I tried again. “What pact were you talking about?”

He scoffed, the sound rising from his throat. Then, he looked at me, and the look he graced me with was so agonizing, it nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

“I hate that bloody pledge,” he said helplessly. “I wish I’d never signed it. I wish I’d never gone to Sigma Phi Rho.”

“What pledge?”

Instead of answering, he stalked off the curb toward the car. Clive’s door opened.

“Is everything okay, sir?” Clive asked.

“No,” Duncan muttered.

He stalked past Clive’s open door. His upper lip curled. Then he rounded on the car, kicked the back tire, and stormed down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

I hurried to keep pace, glad I wasn’t wearing a dress or heels like he’d suggested. “What pact?”

He kept walking. I grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Duncan, trust me. Tell me.”

“No,” he said, losing it. “I can’t tell you. I can’t do that to you. I can’t put you in any more danger than I already have!”

“What are you talking about? I’m not in danger.”

He stopped so abruptly, I collided right into him. His hands caught me by the arms, and the tension in his grasp was very real.

“You will be,” he said. The words were weak. Defeated. “If I tell you, you will be. I just need a minute, okay?”

He continued walking, and this time, I let him go. This time, I turned around and went back to the car. I slid into the backseat and stared at the headrest of the seat in front of me, stunned.

What in the world was he talking about? Telling me this secret could put me in danger? How? Why?

He’d mentioned something like that before. About hoping the house was far enough away. How running around the lake should be safe for me.

What was going on?

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