Page 72 of The Silver Fox Brother

"Madeleine called."

I watch his face. I watch sleep clear from his eyes in an instant. Watch confusion replaced by something else; Panic.

"Winter—"

"Who is Madeleine?"

He sits up, reaching instinctively for his phone. I pull it back, out of his reach.

"It's not—"

"Who. Is. Madeleine."

Rowan runs a hand through his hair, the gesture I've seen a hundred times when he's stressed.

"A friend. She's just a friend."

"Friends call at 12:30 at night?"

"She's going through something. Probably needed to talk."

I stare at him. My heart is hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.

"She said you told her you were single."

Rowan goes very still. For a moment, he doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Just sits there looking at me, and I can see him calculating. Deciding how much to admit. How much he can get away with denying.

"She said that?" His voice is careful now.

"Yes."

"Winter, listen—"

"How long?"

"What?"

My voice rises, loud in the quiet bedroom.

"HOW. LONG?"

Rowan gets out of bed, starts pacing. His hands go through his hair again—nervous energy, panic he's trying to contain.

"It's not what you think."

I get out of bed too, standing on the opposite side. My hands are shaking with rage now, not shock.

"Then tell me what it is!"

"She's... we work together. It's complicated."

The pieces fall into place: “M”.

The texts all evening.

The phone calls he wouldn't take at dinner.

"Your assistant." My voice is flat.