Hidden Devotion (20 page)

“Which is why no one can know about the poison. I can’t appear weak. That means it’s up to the three of us to solve this mystery.”

“Could it have been accidental?” Franco sounded hopeful.

“No. You heard Alexis. Burning plastic is what causes accidental poisoning.”

“Shit. I swear I didn’t know. I never opened the box.”

Juliette took a step and wobbled. Both Franco and Devon lunged to help her but she waved them back and took a seat. “And your grandfather never opened the box?”

“No.”

“I think he was meant to. I think the poison was meant for Franco’s grandfather.”

“Why?”

“Because of this.” Juliette held out a crumpled sheet of paper. “My father used to tell me stories about how his own father, my grandfather, would send messages using invisible ink, ink that had to be brushed with lemon juice to make it appear. There was a vial and a paintbrush in the box. I think at one point the vial held lemon juice, and the paintbrush was used to apply it.”

Franco yelped in excitement and started moving toward Juliette. Devon raised the gun and cleared his throat. Franco froze then bared his teeth in a snarl of frustration.

Juliette’s lips twitched as she tried to hide a smile. That little hint of a smile allowed much of the tension to drain out of Devon’s shoulders. He kept the gun pointed on Franco, but was really hoping he wouldn’t have to shoot the other man.

“This sheet was hidden under the false bottom of the box. It just a bunch of random words in Spanish, but when you apply lemon juice there’s a message.”

“What does it say?” Devon asked.

“It says something along the lines of ‘decode this and bring the answers to Boston’.”

“Meaning my grandfather was supposed to find and read the letter.”

“Yes.”

Franco shook his head. “Then why wouldn’t he have opened the box?”

“And why would there be a poisoned pen inside?” Devon asked.

“That’s what we’re going to figure out.” Juliette stood. “The gala is in two days.”

“We should wait until you’re better.” Devon didn’t like the idea of her facing down the assembled Trinity Masters while still recovering.

“We can’t wait. You know that.”

“Can I have the letter?” Franco looked at Devon—more specifically, at the gun.

Juliette nodded and Devon lowered the gun as Alexis returned.

“The pen tested positive. I know you’re going to want it back to study it, but it’s too dangerous.” Alexis looked grim. “I’ll handle disposal. Devon, Franco, if you feel any shortness of breath, you need to head immediately to the emergency room.”

“Thank you, Alexis,” Devon said.

“That cyanide was weak—if it had been full strength you could have been in serious trouble. Most likely the reason you got sick is because you sucked on your finger when you cut it. Do you want me to call Harrison?” Alexis picked up Juliette’s wrist as she spoke, checking her pulse.

“No. I can handle this.”

Alexis nodded, but she looked worried. “You have to rest. You might feel okay right now, but that’s probably adrenaline. I have a private room set up for you. When you’re done here, come to my office and I’ll take you to a room where no one will bother you.”

“I’m going to go home.”

“No, you’re not. You’re at least going to spend the night in the hospital. You were poisoned.”

Juliette looked poised to protest then seemed to deflate. “Okay. Thanks, Alexis.”

Once Alexis left, Juliette gave Franco the letter before she, too, turned to leave.

“Juliette, wait.”

She paused, turned back to him, and Devon got a horrible sense of
deja vu
.

“I need time, Devon. Just need time.”

Then she was gone, leaving Devon standing with a gun dangling from his hand, Franco frowning down at the crumpled paper.

Franco looked up. “What are we going to do?”

“We? I just held a gun on you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t shoot me.”

“Usually I’m a fan of ask-questions-later, except when it comes to shooting people.”

“Hard to torture information out of someone when they’re dead.”

“True.”

“That was supposed to be a joke.”

Devon shrugged, but he was biting back a smile.

“Fucking CIA.” Franco frowned at the letter. “I need lemons. Where would I find lemons?”

“Come on. I’ll help you.”

“Can I have some pants first?”

Devon laughed. He couldn’t help himself. Everything about his life was serious and dramatic. Someone like Franco, who could take even the direst situation and add a note of sometimes unintentional comedy, was wonderful.

“First pants. Then lemons.”

*****

The reality of it didn’t hit her until late that night. Juliette jerked awake, clawing at her throat, the memory of the poison-induced strangulation enough to have her crying out.

Arms came around her, comforting and cradling her.

“Devon?”

“I’m here, Jules.”

“Franco?”

“Shh, you’re safe,
querida
.”

The hospital bed wasn’t big enough for them to join her, but they held her hands, stroked her arms. Protected on either side, Juliette fell back to sleep.

It was too risky for Juliette to go back to the house on Winthrop Square, since the other legacies were arriving in advance of the gala. Devon upgraded his room to a suite and took her to his hotel once Alexis okayed her to leave the hospital on Friday afternoon. Devon made sure she was comfortable and left once she was happily chowing down on room service. By the time he came back, she was once more asleep.

Franco showed up, suitcase in hand, a few hours later. He was taking the other bedroom in the suite. They spent the day working, sometimes together, sometimes separately. Progress was frustratingly slow, but Devon was glad he wasn’t trying to do this alone. Franco had taken on the task of checking through the mountains of paperwork in the Grand Master’s office for clues. He hadn’t come up with anything, at least not yet, but they were eliminating possibilities. As the day went on, Devon was increasingly sure that this hadn’t been a circuitous attempt on Juliette’s life.

He was glad he had something to do. She’d been sick, but it rattled him that Juliette hadn’t exploded in anger when she saw him. He was dreading the conversation they were going to have when she woke up.

Near midnight, Franco rose and stretched. “I’m tired. Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow I’m going to call my father. Maybe he’ll remember something about the box.”

“Fair enough.” Devon rubbed the back of his neck and closed his laptop.

Franco headed to the bedroom. The wrong bedroom.

“Other way,” Devon said.

“Isn’t Juliette in this room?”

“Yes.”

“Then this is where I’m going.”

“I was going to stay with her tonight.”

“We’ll both stay with her.”

Devon considered the other man. “Good idea.”

*****

The mattress sank under their weight, one man on each side of her. The covers were pushed aside, and for a moment she shivered as the cool air touched her bare skin. Then their hands were on her naked flesh, warm palms and firm fingers kneading and stroking.

They eased her hands away from her throat, kissed and stroked her shoulders and cheeks. The poison still lingered in her blood, making her body ache as if she were recovering from the flu. They treated her as if she was made of glass, taking their time.

Devon slid down the bed, easing her legs apart. “Tell me if you’re too tired for this.”

“No, not too tired.”

“Let me hold you.” Franco slid in place against the headboard, her back resting on his chest.

She could feel his hard cock against the small of her back.

They kissed and stroked, comforting her without words. Devon lowered his head between her legs, kissing her pussy as Franco toyed with her nipples.

She came once, and then Devon moved away, Franco taking his place.

“Spread her open with your fingers. She likes it when you fuck her with your tongue. Rub your nose on her clit while you do it.”

Devon coached Franco on how to touch her, how to pleasure her. When the sensation became too intense, coming so soon after her first orgasm, Devon held her down, his hands gentle but strong restraints, his kiss muffling her gasps of pleasure.

She came a second time, her sweaty body sinking bonelessly into the mattress. Franco slid between her legs, his cock rubbing between the lips of her sex.

“Kiss him, keep him calm.” Devon had climbed off the bed.

Juliette stroked Franco’s face. “Hi,” she whispered.

He kissed her cheek. “Hi,” he replied.

The mattress dipped under Devon’s weight. He held a tube of lube.

Juliette turned wide eyes on Franco. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yes. I want to be with you, both of you, in every way.” Franco smiled.

“Have you ever had anal sex before?” Juliette asked.

“With a dude? No.”

“What?”

“I had this one girlfriend, in college… It’s a long story.”

“I can be in the middle,” she offered.

“No, you need to rest.” Devon wrapped an arm around Franco’s chest, pulling the other man up. Franco turned his head and they kissed. The sight of Devon’s muscled arm across Franco’s equally muscled chest was delightfully arousing.

When Franco once more hovered over her, propped on his elbows, his legs spread, forcing hers even wider apart, Devon opened the tube, the click of the cap loud.

Franco tensed and Juliette set to work calming him. She stroked his head and shoulders. Kissed him gently. She knew the moment Devon penetrated him with a finger because he tensed, then shivered. Devon was a skilled lover. He’d introduced Juliette to anal sex also.

“Are you ready, Franco?”

“Yes.”

Devon slid into place, kneeling behind Franco, his hands on the other man’s hips. Franco’s jaw clenched.

Juliette ran her hands down Franco’s sides until they lay beside Devon’s.

“I want to feel you both.”

Devon met her gaze as he pressed into Franco, who groaned at the penetration. He was stiff for a few minutes, but Devon’s patience and Juliette’s attention soon eased the tension from his muscles.

Then Devon began to thrust in earnest, his cock pushing Franco’s hips forward so that Juliette was penetrated, too. Franco came first, the combined sensations of Juliette’s pussy around his cock and Devon’s dick in his ass, stimulating his prostate, causing him to shake from the force of his orgasm.

When he collapsed and rolled away Devon pulled off the condom he was wearing, tossing it aside. He sank into Juliette, who wrapped her legs around his waist, coming as he thrust in the first time.

She tingled with residual pleasure as he thrust his way to orgasm. Then they curled around each other, content and quiet.

“I could have lost you.”

Juliette frowned as she woke up, struggling to shift from pleasant dream to the tension-filled darkness,
deja vu
adding to the sense of unreality. She lifted her head off Devon’s chest. Though he’d whispered, she’d felt the rumble of his words.

“Devon?”

“You could have died. I could have lost you.” He sounded raw, his voice like rocks cracking together.

“But I didn’t die.” Her heart couldn’t stand to hear the pain in his tone. She brushed her fingers over his chest and shoulders. “You saved me. You understood.”

“Jules, I’ve been an ass to you. I know that. I just…I figured once we were married…” His tone had changed to sheepish.

Juliette lifted her hands off his bare skin. “I couldn’t get away?”

He rubbed his face, the movement barely visible in the ambient light that filtered in through the window.

Now fully awake, Juliette sat up. Franco, who’d been asleep at her back, did the same. “Do you two always have dramatic conversations in the middle of the night?”

Juliette ignored him. “It’s not like I could have changed my mind and called off the engagement. Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I see you a couple times a year, and when I do see you, half the time you’re busy making it clear that you hate me. When was I supposed to start the conversation that would guarantee you never spoke to me again?”