Hidden Devotion
motioned for him to follow. “I’m going to have to keep reminding myself that I should tell you the whole truth.”
    “What do you mean?” They entered a parlor that was a lovely mix of antique elegance and modern comfort. A tea set was waiting on a tray and a fire crackled in the marble fireplace.
    “I mean that this house is the home base for me and a few friends who are all legacies of the Trinity Masters.”
    “Legacies?”
    She poured him a cup of tea. “Our parents, and in many cases our grandparents, are and were members. We grew up knowing about the Trinity Masters and learned to keep secrets from an early age.”
    It took Franco a moment to respond because when she leaned forward to pour tea, her silky top gapped, giving him a marvelous view of her cleavage. When he spoke, his voice was lower, rough. “That sounds like a hard way to grow up.”
    Her head snapped up, gaze lingering on him, as if she knew where his thoughts had gone. She bit her lower lip and Franco stifled a groan of arousal.
    “Growing up in the Trinity Masters is hard, you’re right; we make good spies.”
    That jerked his attention him back to the issue at hand. “Are you serious?”
    “Yes. I am.”
    “Then it really is some sort of secret cabal running the country?”
    “Running it? No. America is too big for that. Don’t get all conspiracy theory on me.” Juliette winked, but the teasing look faded as she kept talking. “The Trinity Masters was created by many of the same men who founded the nation. The goal was to ensure that America grew and advanced. The way to do this was to ensure that talented, intelligent people—everyone from artists to scientists—were supported and nurtured, connected to other powerful, influential people.”
    “Like a fraternity?”
    “Yes, but it wasn’t limited to the children of the super wealthy, though they were certainly included.”
    “How egalitarian.”
    She shook her head. “Practical. America was up against European nations with long histories, powerful families and alliances. The founders didn’t think that the nation would survive if they waited for these allegiances and connections to grow organically.”
    Franco took a moment to think. “It would make sense that they would recruit my great-grandfather.”
    “More than recruit him, I think the Trinity Masters helped bring him to America, acting as sponsors and cosigners.”
    “You have records?” He nearly jumped off the couch in excitement.
    Juliette smiled. “You sound like a kid on Christmas morning.”
    “I’m an archivist.” Franco shrugged, refusing to apologize for his enthusiasm.
    “I have a whole file that I think you’ll really enjoy, but I’m not going to give it to you now.”
    “Oh, that’s cold. Taunting me.”
    “I suspect once I give it to you, you’ll bury yourself in it and I won’t be able to have a proper conversation with you again for several days.”
    “That’s entirely possible. I didn’t realize I was that easy to read.”
    Now it was her turn to shrug. “I’ve been surrounded by passionate, driven people my whole life. I know how they operate. There’s a saying about dogs and bones.”
    The conversation lulled as they drank their tea, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. Franco’s list of questions was forgotten as he relaxed into the leather sofa, the fire and tea both warm enough to erase the chill that had gripped him since stepping off the plane.
    “Tell me more about your work, the foundation.”
    Franco told her about his fascination with the past, the way he’d learned, at a young age, to appreciate the mysteries that old records could hold. It was because of him that his mother had spearheaded the foundation, which became a home base for his family’s charity efforts in addition to eventually becoming a museum.
    When the pot was empty, Juliette took the tea away, only to return with a bottle of red wine and two glasses. She held them up, asking without words if he

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