by Mari Carr
The bell rang just as Price pulled up the hood of his black robe. He walked into the ceremony room, resentment growing with every step. The walls of the room were cast in shadows, the lighting focused on the bronze medallion of the Trinity Masters’ symbol set into the floor. Three chairs surrounded the circle.
Price watched Denise emerge somewhat timidly from her dressing room, dressed in a long white robe. Then a third person, a man, given the black robe, appeared.
Price’s anger returned full-force. He’d been partnered with Denise and another man. He clenched his fists, fighting the instinct to find where the Grand Master stood in the shadows and beat the shit out of the man. He’d expected the introduction ceremony to be one of the best days of his life.
Now, he felt like a man facing his execution, waiting for the hoods to drop and the noose to tighten around his neck.
They each took their seats as the Grand Master appeared. Though Price’s face was hidden beneath the hood, he kept his eyes on his leader, willing his so-called friend to understand what he thought of this betrayal.
The Grand Master raised his hands. “Welcome.”
Denise and the other man replied with a reverent, “Grand Master,” but Price remained silent.
“When you joined the Trinity Masters, you made a vow. You pledged your lives to our cause and our traditions. The time has come for you to meet your partners, your lovers, your spouses. When I call your name, stand and remove your robe.”
Price looked toward Denise, understanding exactly how much she dreaded this part. How would she feel when she realized he was one of the men with her? He had sensed she was just a bit afraid of him, and he’d done precious little to alleviate that fear.
“Denise Parker.” The Grand Master went straight for the jugular, forcing Denise to go first. Price was tempted to rise and throw off his robe first, in hopes of making it easier for her. To do so was to invite disaster. The Grand Master didn’t forgive slights, no matter how small.
Denise stood and pulled down her hood. There was a sharp inhalation from the other man, so Price turned his attention to the one unknown in the room. From his reaction, Price couldn’t tell if the man was horrified or captivated by Denise. While she wasn’t what Price would call a raving beauty, Denise was definitely pretty. She appeared to have found a brush and some makeup in the dressing room, as her long blonde hair now lay soft against her shoulders, the tangles tamed. She’d also outlined her eyes, drawing his attention to them for the first time. They were the brightest blue he’d ever seen. Maybe he’d been wrong. Without her safety goggles and the pencils in her hair, his tiny scientist was beautiful.
His.
God. Had he already begun to accept she belonged to him?
Denise’s hands shook uncontrollably as she tackled the hooks on her robe. Price was about to help her when the Grand Master reached out. He grasped her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. Price heard him whisper, “It’s okay,” before releasing her once more to finish her task. Once the robe was unfastened, Denise stiffened her shoulders and pulled the material away.
Fuck him.
The lab coat and baggy T-shirt had hidden far too much. His first order of business would be to buy his new wife clothing that accentuated her sexy figure. Even in her plain cotton panties and bra, she was breathtaking. He’d always considered himself a leg man, but Denise’s hourglass shape, her large breasts and wide hips had him reconsidering that position. A man could lose himself forever in her luscious curves.
Before his lustful thoughts could take root, the Grand Master spoke again.
“Price Bennett.”
He heard Denise whisper, “No,” as he rose. He threw off his hood and robe, his anger returning as he glared at the Grand Master. If he’d understood what his true role today was, he would have tried to make a better impression, ease Denise into the situation. As it was, the Grand Master had put him at a distinct disadvantage.
God. He had no business being here. Denise’s response proved that.
Standing in his boxers, he crossed his arms, refusing to look at his partners.
“Gunner Wells.”
The name rang a bell and curiosity won out as Price watched the other man disrobe. It was the man from the lab, Denise’s friend. From the corner of his eye, he watched Denise’s face evolve from surprise to sheer delight.
Gunner stood before them in black boxer briefs, a perfect specimen of a man. He had what Price called a pretty-boy face, light-brown hair that hung longer on top, green eyes and a clean-shave. While Price employed weightlifting to increase his muscle mass, Gunner appeared to maintain his trim build with cardio. He had a runner’s body.
Gunner caught him staring and offered him a friendly, harmless smile before he turned back to look at Denise with nothing short of pure joy in his face.
Great. The Grand Master had slammed him into a threesome with two people who already knew each other and would be perfectly content to live happily ever after as a couple. Where did that leave him?
The Grand Master had an answer for that too. “You now belong to one another. Come forward.”
All of them reached out with their right hands as the Grand Master removed the heavy gold chain from his neck. He wrapped it around their wrists, binding them together. They’d passed the point of no return. From this moment forward, Price’s life would be entwined with these two people. In a matter of minutes, they had become his future.
Gunner was the first to move. He leaned forward and pressed a soft, quick kiss on Denise’s lips. A slight flush colored her cheeks. She looked like a young girl with her first love. Shit. For all Price knew, Gunner had just given Denise her first kiss. That thought stuck in his craw.
If it was her first kiss, Price was going to make damn sure it was the second she remembered. When Gunner and Denise parted, Price was there. He cupped her cheek with his free hand. He wasn’t interested in nice and easy. That had never been his way. He pressed his mouth to hers, firmly using his grip on her face to hold her still. Then he nipped her lower lip, taking advantage when she opened her mouth and gasped. Using his tongue, he explored the wet, sweet warmth. He was surprised—and aroused—when Denise returned the touch, brushing her tongue against his.
He wasn’t sure how long they stood there, learning each other’s tastes and smells, but Price recalled they weren’t alone when the Grand Master cleared his throat. Price released her, pleased to see her face wasn’t merely pink, but bright red. He looked at Gunner, expecting to receive a look of disdain, of rebuke. What he didn’t anticipate was to find Gunner studying Denise’s face curiously.
“Your relationship is yours. You will choose how to live your lives, but there are rules. No one must know about the trinity and you may never stray outside your marriage.” The Grand Master removed the chain from their wrists. “You have one month to get your affairs in order. At that time, you will return here and be formally bound in the marriage of the Trinity Masters. Now go.”
The Grand Master left without a backwards glance, which irritated Price. Denise bent over to retrieve her robe and quickly put it back on.
Nothing like spending your honeymoon with a shy, innocent bride and a stranger. Price’s anger returned.
“My limo is still outside. I suspect when we return to the dressing rooms we’ll discover keycards to a hotel suite. We can travel there together if you’d like.”
Gunner nodded. “Sounds good to me. I arrived here by taxi and my suitcase is in the dressing room.”
“Good. I can have my driver pick up spare clothes for me once he’s dropped us off.” Price looked at Denise. “We can swing by your apartment for clothing. Unless you’d prefer to spend yet another night in the same jeans and T-shirt.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You said it wasn’t you. That you weren’t—”
“I didn’t know I would be participating in this ceremony until I opened that letter.”
Denise bit her lower lip anxiously. “Oh.” She gave him a contr
ite grin. “Sorry.”
Price wasn’t sure if she was apologizing for her accusation or the marriage. It didn’t matter either way. She’d already turned her attention to Gunner.
“I didn’t know you were a member of the Trinity Masters,” she said.
Gunner smiled. “How could you? It’s a secret. We wear masks at social events, and I’m afraid I don’t attend as many of those as I’d like. Work usually interferes.” Gunner ran his knuckles along her cheek.
Denise grasped Gunner’s hand as he started to pull it back. She looked at his Trinity Masters’ ring. “I’ve never seen you wear this.”
Gunner shrugged. “In my line of work, it’s best not to wear anything too distinguishable.” Gunner lifted the charm on her necklace. “I could say the same thing about this.”
Denise grinned. “It was always getting caught on stuff in the lab. I broke the chain twice before I finally just put it away. I only wear it to Trinity Masters’ get-togethers.”
“That makes sense. I suppose I should have suspected you were a member. When I was looking for a scientist with the knowledge to help me with my case a few years back, I went to my old biology professor. He’s part of the Trinity Masters, and he directed me to you.”
“Professor Moreau. He’s the one who introduced me to the Trinity Masters.”
Price didn’t like being reminded of Denise and Gunner’s long history. “If you two are finished with your walk down memory lane, I’d like to leave.”
He wanted to kick himself when Denise’s smile faded, her gaze turning leery as she looked at him. “Okay. You know if you want to, you could just have your driver drop me off at the lab. I can get my car, head to my apartment to pack and meet you both at the hotel later.”
Gunner chuckled. “No dice. I know you. You’ll pop into the lab to check one little thing and we won’t see you again for six months. We’re sticking…like glue.”
Price appreciated Gunner’s help. He’d opened his mouth to say, “hell no,” but the other man’s response had been worded in such a way that Denise didn’t become irritated. Until some of her fear of him abated, Price was going to have to tread lightly, an act that didn’t come naturally.
“Fine. But I definitely need to go back to work tomorrow.”
Gunner’s gaze met his and Price felt an odd connection to the man. Almost as if he could read his thoughts. Gunner knew as well as he did that Denise wouldn’t be returning to work tomorrow. Or even the next day. The three of them had too much to sort out, lives to connect, living situations to arrange, and…sex. Price had participated in ménages before, with two women and sometimes with a woman and another man. He was no stranger to the logistics. It would take them time to ease Denise into exactly what the consequences of this arrangement would mean for her. She obviously hadn’t put together the fact she was the only woman bound in marriage to two straight men.
Price put his hand on her back. “We’ll see,” was all he said in response to her assertion she’d return to work. Better to save that argument for another day. Tonight was going to be difficult enough.
Each of them returned to their private rooms to get dressed and gather their things. Then they met up in the corridor a few minutes later and walked to the limousine in silence.
Price didn’t miss the way Gunner placed his hand on the small of Denise’s back in a familiar, friendly way. She didn’t shirk from the other man’s touch. In fact, she leaned toward him, encouraging Gunner to pull her closer. Price rubbed his temple, fighting against the growing pressure. If he didn’t find a way to calm down, he’d spend the evening with a killer migraine.
He closed his eyes once they were all seated in the car. He’d studied Aikido for several years and, while he’d long since moved on to learn other forms of martial arts, he still employed the relaxation techniques as a way of centering himself. Mercifully, Denise and Gunner seemed to need some time for quiet reflection as well. The trip to Denise’s apartment was made in complete silence.
When they arrived, Price felt calmer. Denise opened the door before his driver, Roman, could get there.
She apologized when Roman jogged around the car to offer her his hand. “Oh, oops. I was supposed to wait, wasn’t I? Sorry.”
Roman smiled. “No problem, Miss.”
He and Gunner followed her out.
Denise frowned. “I’ll only be a minute. You guys can wait here.”
Gunner grasped her hand and led her to the front entrance of her building. “Nope. I’m coming up. I’ve always wanted to see what your place looks like. In my mind, I’m picturing every surface covered in test tubes, boiling brews and microscopes, as well as a half-completed Frankenstein lying on your dining room table. Am I close?”
Deni laughed. “Busted. Don’t touch the monster though or he might come to life.” She raised her hands in what Price assumed was supposed to be a threatening pose.
He followed them in silence, trying not to lose the composure he’d just managed to regain in the car. However, it was difficult given their surroundings. There was no way in hell Denise was keeping this place after they were formally bound. He’d been surprised when she’d given her address to Roman. Surely she made enough money at the lab that she didn’t have to live in such a shady neighborhood. Plus, the security in her building was deplorable. Anyone could walk in from the street and roam the dimly lit hallways.
Denise led them to the second floor, but she stopped short when they reached her apartment.
“What’s wrong?” Gunner asked.
“The door’s ajar.”
Price’s instincts took over. He stepped around Denise and pushed her behind him. He noticed Gunner’s response mirrored his. Both of them reached for their backs and produced guns. Interesting. He was going to have to find out what Gunner Wells did for a living.
“You have guns? Both of you?”
Price shushed Denise, pushing her more securely behind him when she moved toward the door. “Quiet.”
Denise obeyed, then he felt her hands close around the material of his shirt. He tried to ignore how much he liked that she trusted him to protect her. She wasn’t shirking away from him, rather she was moving closer.
Gunner stood to the side, gun at the ready as Price slowly pushed the door open. The apartment was destroyed, furniture overturned, dishes and picture frames shattered, books and papers covered the floor.
Denise gave a small sound of distress, clinging tighter as they slowly entered the room. Gunner quietly and efficiently walked down the hallway, peering into the other rooms while Price kept Denise covered.
“No one’s here,” Gunner said, sliding his gun back into his waistband.
Price turned, struggling to pull Denise’s hands from his shirt. She was pale, trembling.
“My stuff.”
It was demolished. Her TV had been kicked in, her couch cushions shredded. Price wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such a malicious attack on a place. This wasn’t a robbery. It was destruction.
Gunner looked miserable as he gestured down the corridor. “There’s something you should look at in the bedroom.”
Price put a supportive arm around her waist as they walked toward her room. Though she was visibly shaken, she was holding up better than Price expected.
Denise released a long, shaky breath as they stood at the doorway. “Shit.”
Above her bed, someone had painted the words Baby Killer in bright red. The paint was thick enough that it ran along the walls and dripped onto the bed, looking far too much like blood.
“Assholes. How many times do I have to explain what I do? People are so stupid.”
Price admired the spunkiness in her voice. While most women would have been terrified by such a horrifying message, it appeared to fuel Denise’s anger. Maybe he’d misread his absent-minded, hyperventilating virgin scientist. There was spirit in her.
She started to step into the room but something caught Price’s eye. He grasped her waist and pulled her back, jerking
her hard against his chest.
“Price. It’s okay. It’s just paint.”
“Don’t move.” He pushed Denise toward Gunner, who remained in the hallway, then he dropped to his knees. “Tripwire.”
“No fucking way,” Gunner said.
“What’s that mean?” Denise asked.
Price followed the wire, careful not to touch it. It disappeared under an overturned laundry basket. He ventured a guess they’d find an explosive device hidden there.
“What do you do for a living, Gunner?” he asked.
“FBI.”
Price nodded. “Good. Call the Boston office. Get them to send a bomb squad over here. Denise, you’re getting the fuck out of here.”
“Hating what I do is one thing, but wanting to blow me up is just stupid. How did they plant a bomb in my house?”
Price rose and took her arm. “I have no idea, but until we figure it out, you’ve just bought yourself two permanent shadows.”
Gunner followed them downstairs, describing to someone on the other end of his cell what they’d discovered. In the meantime, Price found the landlord’s apartment and informed the man he needed to evacuate the building. Through it all, Denise remained silent, though Price was happy to see her color had returned.
In fact, she seemed extremely composed. Price didn’t know what to make of a woman who took a bomb in her apartment in stride while having a full-blown panic attack over standing in front of two men in her underwear. She was a puzzle, an enigma, an unexpected surprise.
Once they had alerted the landlord and Gunner had called in the cavalry, they escorted Denise back to the limo. Price got in, expecting her to follow, but she remained behind.
“Aren’t you coming?” she asked Gunner.
Gunner shook his head. “No. I’m going to wait here for the bomb squad. One of my friends in the Boston office is coming as well. He’s going to open an investigation and I need to give him some information. I suspect he’ll want to talk to you as well, but I’ll hold him off until tomorrow.”
