Page 64 of His Christmas Wife

Sometime after midnight, in total frustration, she gave up the struggle, threw back the covers, and headed for the living room to watch television. With a sigh, she flipped from show to show, but nothing held her interest, and her mind drifted to Frost.

She hit the MUTE button, and once the distraction was gone, he consumed her thoughts. Memories rushed back: their wild sex, the lovemaking, their time at the club. Then, unbidden, an image of the owl on his duffel and on his cuff links returned.

Who was Evan Frost, really?

Giving in to her curiosity, she walked across the room to grab her laptop computer. Once she was back on the couch, she began a search.

Secret society, owl symbolreturned only a few results, but there was a magazine exposé that captured her interest.

Intrigued, she opened it and asked for the words to be summarized.

People who were quoted in the article refused to be named, which meant any information could be conjecture or even false.

But according to what the journalist discovered, an organization, known as the Zeta Society, had been formed in the 1800s. They supposedly held annual meetings—known as the Oak Valley Gathering—on a Louisiana estate. In the comments below, readers added their insights, naming people who were suspected to be Titans. Rafe Sterling. The President of the United States. A Texas senator. The richest, most controversial man on the planet.

Going back in history, she found an article written almost a hundred years ago by a reporter who happened to see some of the country’s most influential men—from playwrights to scientists and doctors and politicians—at a New Orleans hotel. In his newspaper column, he’d referred to the men as Titans. Interestingly several of the gentlemen carried bags with an owl logo on the side.

Much like Frost’s?

She slammed the computer lid down and placed the machine on a cushion. Then she stood to pace the floor. Considering everything she’d just learned—as well as the guesses that he hadn’t denied—Kaylee had no doubt the Zeta Society existed and that he was a member.

The information unsettled her even further.

What kind of world was unfolding in her own life?

Still, she wanted to know more, even if it drew her deeper into a vortex.

With a sigh, she paced to her laptop, snatched it up, then carried it to the counter and began a new search on Frost himself.

More than a hundred results popped up, including his business wins and losses, along with details of the scandal.

The man garnered as much press as a celebrity.

Stretching, she lifted her hair from the back of her neck. Really, that’s what he was. A billionaire Titan.

The knowledge rocked her world.

After recovering from the shock, she dug a little deeper and discovered his grandmother’s name—Ophelia Delaney.

A search on her name brought up an article in an architectural magazine, featuring pictures of her Garden District home, along with photos of a fundraiser she’d hosted there.

Even though most images didn’t have names of the attendees listed beneath them, she recognized several people. Master Mason and Master Trevor from the Quarter, a former LSU football legend, a movie star who owned a place in the French Quarter, and a woman who might have been Mistress Aviana, but in street clothes and without stage makeup and a theatrical wig, she was impossible to identify.

Kaylee shook her head. What the hell was she thinking, trying to be part of his world? Even for a few hours, there was no way she could fool his grandmother into believing Frost would marry someone like her.

Her thoughts now in even greater turmoil, she once again closed the computer and decided to make herself a cup of hot chocolate, but even that reminded her of being in the kitchen in Frost’s home, standing next to him. And then, what had happened next, in his dungeon…

Damn it. Why couldn’t she get him out of her head?

The sweet-smelling mixture began to boil, and she quickly turned off the burner. As she grabbed a mug, the diamond in her ring glittered.

Its presence represented their fake union, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality, leading to the swirling mess of confusion and her hormonal reaction to Frost.

With determination, she removed the ring and carried it to her bedroom where she placed it in its protective box. Not satisfied, she shoved it into a drawer beneath a pile of T-shirts.

Praying the act helped her find the internal peace she sought, she returned to the kitchen to sip her warm beverage.

But it didn’t help.

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