Primal Passion (6 page)

Given Deni’s shocked response when Price
removed his hood, she hadn’t been expecting—or thrilled—by the
match. In fact, until discovering the break-in at her apartment,
Gunner had gotten a sense Deni was afraid of Price.

He didn’t blame her. He was well aware of
Deni’s inexperience with men. Price seemed to be ten men rolled
into one. And while Price would be hard enough for Deni to handle
on her own, she didn’t have just him to contend with. She had
Gunner as well. As much as he wanted to take tonight slow, to offer
Deni the magic and romance she deserved, he feared he didn’t have
it in him. Price’s presence was a challenge. He had wanted to be
the one at the ceremony grasping Deni’s face and giving her that
hard, open-mouthed kiss he guaranteed she’d never forget.

He wasn’t an easy lover. He’d never played
that role, but Deni would likely cast him in it because to her he
was easygoing, friendly, harmless Gunner. Somehow he had to open
her eyes to the real Gunner, reveal the true man without
frightening her or losing her trust.

Gunner straightened. There was only one path
to walk. And it was through this door.

He entered the suite. It was incredibly
elegant, luxurious. Price stood behind a bar, pouring a drink while
Deni sat on a plush loveseat. She’d obviously showered, her long
blonde hair still damp and neatly brushed back. She appeared to be
wearing one of Price’s company T-shirts, the Bennett Security logo
emblazoned on it. It was ridiculously large and hung to her knees.
Clearly even that wasn’t enough material for Deni as she continued
to tug it lower. Without makeup and her hair hanging loose, she
looked incredibly young. Her shyness was going to present a very
big obstacle for them.

He nodded once when Price silently lifted a
bottle of whiskey and pointed to him. He watched as the other man
poured out two shots. He could use a belt. Or three.

Deni had already helped herself to a drink. A
half-full wineglass sat on the side table next to her.

“Was it a bomb?” she asked.

He crossed the room and sank down next to
her. “I’m afraid so. It’s been disarmed. My friend at the FBI took
it back to the office to study. Maybe the design will trigger an
MO, give us a suspect. He wants to question you tomorrow morning.”
Gunner looked at Price. “I’m going to ask him to come here. I
suspect this place is secure enough. I’d rather not risk taking
Deni out in the open until we determine exactly how serious this
threat is.”

Price claimed the chair across from them.
“I’d say a bomb makes it pretty damn serious, but I agree. It’s too
dangerous to take her out in the open. The man can come here to
talk to her.”

Deni leaned forward, piercing them both with
her glare. “Oh, I’m sorry. When did I leave the room?”

Gunner grinned. Deni was equal parts sweet
and sassy. “Deni,” he started.

Price scowled. “It doesn’t matter if you’re
in the room or not, Denise. Gunner and I are going to keep you
safe. Given the fact we’re both trained professionals in security,
and you’re not, it makes sense for us to make the
arrangements.”

“Not when it’s my life you’re talking about.
I told you earlier, I have to go back to work tomorrow.”

Price shook his head. “That’s not going to
happen.”

Deni stood up. The T-shirt stopped just shy
of her knees, giving Gunner a clear view of her trim calves. The
woman lived in jeans, and it occurred to him he’d never seen her in
a skirt. They’d have to buy her some. She had beautiful legs.

Walking around the coffee table, Deni planted
herself directly in front of Price. She was pissed. “I’ve had it up
to here with your proclamations. I don’t know who the hell you
think you are, but no one tells me what to do. I may be young and I
may not know a lot of stuff about sex and shit like that, but that
doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.”

She was furious and waving her arms about,
making her agitation obvious. The day’s events were clearly
catching up to her. Deni tried to be a fighter, but she wasn’t
particularly good at it. Gunner turned his head, lest she catch him
grinning at her flustered attempts at asserting her authority.
Maybe he didn’t have to worry about Price after all. Deni, in her
cute, clumsy way, was handling the man just fine. “I’m perfectly
capable of organizing my own affairs,” she added.

To his credit, Price let her have her say,
keeping his seat rather than standing and stealing the power
position away from her. “Are you really? Dead cell phone? Driving a
scratched-up car? Not bothering to check your email? These are
considered good organizational skills?”

Deni put her hands on her hips. “I’m serious
about my job. Those other things don’t matter.”

Price grinned. “So the only thing you need
help with is the sex-and-shit-like-that stuff?”

She shot him a dirty look. “You know what I
mean. If you insist on calling me Denise and feeding me that line
about me being a woman, not a girl, then you’re going to have to
toe the line and treat me like an adult. Otherwise, you might as
well just call me Deni.”

“Fine, Denise. Let’s have a rational, adult
conversation, shall we?”

His calm response took some of the wind out
of Deni’s sails.

“My research is very important to me and I’ve
been making some real progress lately. I can’t lose my momentum.
It’s taken me years to get to this point.”

Gunner knew that, understood her concerns.
Deni was married to her work. It was going to take time for her to
adjust to what he hoped their life would become. “We know that,
Deni. We’d never belittle what you do or fail to acknowledge how
valuable it is. But, gorgeous, you’ve given your life to that
research, to the lab, and now your life is at risk. Until the
threat against you is removed, keeping you safe is our top
priority. Then…after that danger is removed, we’re going to have to
figure out how to make this relationship work. I suspect it will
mean sacrifices on all of our parts.”

Deni sank down onto the coffee table. “What
do mean?”

Price took a sip of his whiskey. “He means
you’re not going to sleep at the lab anymore. You’ll be in bed—with
us—every night.”

“I don’t think I can make that promise.”

Deni wasn’t being purposely stubborn, Gunner
could see that. In fact, she appeared to be panicking. He rose,
kneeling in front of her. “Why don’t we tackle some of the easier
things first?”

Before he could steer the conversation to
safer waters, there was a knock at the door.

“That will be room service.” Price rose to
answer. “Deni ordered something for you, Gunner. Claimed it was
your favorite.”

Gunner grinned. “Bacon cheeseburger?”

She laughed. “Yep. Congestive heart failure
on a sesame-seed bun with a side of artery-clogging fries.”

Gunner took her hand and led her to a small
dining table in the corner. He was accustomed to her making fun of
his poor diet choices. Typically, he ate healthy meals at home, but
whenever they went out for dinner, he splurged. “Extra
pickles?”

“Is there any other way?”

Price signed the slip, tipped the waiter and
carried the tray over. They were quiet as each of them claimed
their meals, some silverware and Price refilled their drinks.

They discussed insignificant things as they
ate—the weather in Boston, the strength of the Celtics bench in a
recent game, which movie they thought should win the Oscar. It was
a surprisingly easy meal when Gunner considered he was sitting with
the two people—one a complete stranger—he’d just vowed to spend his
life with.

After dinner, they returned to the
comfortable seats in the living area. Price reclaimed his earlier
chair while Gunner shared the loveseat with Deni again. Her hair
had long since dried, natural waves curling around her pretty face.
He found it difficult to look at her without imagining gripping
those soft tresses as he pressed his cock deep inside her. He
shifted, trying to keep his erection at bay. It was getting more
difficult as the evening gave way to night. The moment of truth
loomed ever nearer.

Time to get serious. He placed his arm along
the back of the couch, enjoying the way Deni moved closer. “So, I
suppose we need to figure some things out. Should we knock them
down? One at a time?”

“Fire away,” Price said.

Gunner started with an easy one. “Living
situation.”

“Denise’s house is trashed, and I’m not happy
with the neighborhood. It’s unsafe. Since she and I both live and
work in Boston, I’d like to offer my home as an option.”

Gunner could just imagine the opulence of
Price’s house. This was a man whose primary form of transportation
was a limousine with a personal driver. “I could request a transfer
to the Boston office, but I’m not sure how quickly something like
that could be processed.”

Price raised an eyebrow. “With the Trinity
Masters’ influence? I suspect we could make it happen faster than
you think.”

Gunner didn’t reply, puzzling over Price’s
use of the word we. Price seemed to have an inside track to the
internal workings of the Trinity Masters that he certainly didn’t
possess.

They both turned to Deni.

“I don’t really have a place to go right now.
My apartment is destroyed and you’ve ruled out the cot in my lab as
a viable option.”

Gunner’s chest tightened at the unhappiness
on her face. He’d never seen his little spitfire scientist looking
so lost. She’d spent the majority of her life alone, without
friends or lovers. She truly had no idea how to fit into a real
relationship. “Deni. We’ll all make a home together. There are
three of us now. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Gunner’s right. We have time to sort this
out, find answers we’re all comfortable with.”

Deni nodded. “What do you do for a living,
Price?”

Gunner realized that while he’d cheated, Deni
was still flying blind in regards to Price Bennett.

“I own a security company.”

Deni looked down at the T-shirt she was
wearing. “Yeah. I figured that much out, but it doesn’t really tell
me anything.”

Gunner chuckled at the understatement of
Price’s response. “Sort of giving her the Spark’s Notes version,
aren’t you? Price is CEO of one of the most prestigious and
prosperous security firms out there. His list of clients would
probably read like a who’s who of the world’s most rich and
famous.”

“Someone did their homework.” Price didn’t
sound offended by Gunner’s knowledge.

He shrugged. “I had some time to kill at
Deni’s apartment.”

“And you ran a background check.” Price
actually looked impressed. “I did the same thing while Denise was
showering. You graduated from Boston University with honors and a
criminal justice degree. You were top of your class at the FBI
Academy and you played rugby in high school.”

Gunner grinned. He liked a pissing contest as
much as the next guy. “Very good. You’re left-handed, your mother
is a distant cousin of Charlie Chaplin and you were born on March
11.”

Price shook his head. “I may have to try to
steal you away from the FBI. I could use a man with an eye for
details.”

“You’re a Pisces,” Deni muttered, looking at
Price.

Price looked at her. “Excuse me?”

“Your birth sign. You’re a Pisces, a water
sign. I’m Leo, fire. Could be a tricky combination.”

Gunner laughed. “Never pegged you as an
astrology believer, Deni.”

She shrugged. “I’m not actually. I was just
feeling left out of the conversation.”

Gunner gestured for her to continue. “Tell us
more. And I should warn you now. I’m an earth sign.”

Deni grinned. “A girl in one of my college
classes was talking to her girlfriend about astrology once. Trying
to explain that she’d dumped this guy because their signs weren’t
compatible. I was curious because this girl really seemed to put a
lot of weight on the idea, so I checked a book out of the library
and read up on it. Thought it was pretty fascinating.”

Price leaned forward, looking intrigued. “So
the signs are against us?”

She gave him a mischievous grin. “Possibly.
Do you think the Grand Master takes astrological signs into account
when he forms the threesomes?”

“Absolutely not.”

Again, Gunner was struck by Price’s
certainty, but he let it go, continuing with the checklist of
issues that still needed to be resolved. “So now that we’ve tackled
the living situation, personal information and problematic
horoscopes, maybe we should go ahead and acknowledge the elephant
in the corner.”

It occurred to Gunner that Deni wouldn’t
completely relax until the sex issue had been resolved. It had been
hovering in the background all day. Perhaps they would all feel
better if they knew the physical aspects of this odd relationship
would work.

Deni frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Price rose and perched on the edge of the
coffee table in front of her. “He’s talking about sex, Denise.”

“Oh.” Deni ran her palms along her thighs,
trying to tug the T-shirt down again.

Gunner grasped her hand. “You knew this was
coming.”

Price leaned forward. Gunner couldn’t miss
how tight their circle had grown. With any other man, Gunner would
feel as if his personal space was being invaded. With Price and
Deni, it felt comfortable. Normal.

Price claimed her free hand. “Why don’t we
move this conversation to the bedroom? We’d be more comfortable
there.”

Deni tried to tug her hands free, but neither
man released her.

“Bedroom?”

Gunner pulled her to her feet. And then,
because he hated seeing her so frightened, he wrapped her in his
embrace. Deni’s body was tense, rigid, but after a few moments, she
released a long sigh, going soft in his arms. He placed a gentle
kiss on the top of her head when she returned the hug and touched
her hands lightly to the small of his back.