"So, what are you?" Lieutenant Miller asked. "Her bodyguard?"

Gunner nodded. "That's exactly what he is. I hired him. Mr. Bennett has been kind enough to offer the use of his guesthouse to Deni and I until we find out who's trying to harm her. Now if you'll excuse us."

Gunner wrapped his arm about Denise's waist, holding her close enough to leave no doubt of his romantic relations.h.i.+p with the pretty scientist. Price walked two steps ahead of them, a.s.suming his role as bodyguard. Gunner had told the lie smoothly. Price appreciated his friend's steady nerves.

Typically Price was better at s.h.i.+elding his emotions, but he'd been thrown for a loop ever since Denise's sweet farewell kiss in the limo this morning. Though in all fairness, Gunner had had years to accept his feelings for Denise. They were still too new, too unexpected for Price.

Price helped Denise into the car, followed Gunner in and then instructed Roman to take them to the hospital.

Denise turned to look out the window as the car started moving. Unwilling to keep up the distance between them, he moved closer, placing his arms around her shoulders.

Denise was still for several seconds and then she s.h.i.+fted, wrapping her arm around his waist as she pressed her head against his chest. "That bullet was meant for me."

Price knew her words were true, but he couldn't let her carry around that kind of guilt. "You don't know that, Denise."

She lifted her head, her face only inches from his. Misery was written in her eyes. "Yes, I do. Curtis never sleeps in the lab office, and everyone knows it. It would have been me on that cot, if..."

Her words drifted away. She didn't have to finish. They all knew where she'd been. Why Curtis had been sleeping at the lab.

"He's going to be okay, Deni." Gunner s.h.i.+fted from the side couch, claiming the spot on her other side. He rested his hand on her knee. "You have to keep faith."

"Why would someone want to kill me? Is what I'm doing really so bad? I just want to help people. Find a way for them to live without pain, without losing their memories or their minds."

Gunner grasped her hand. "You're not doing anything wrong. The only villain in this is the person tormenting you."

"My dad had early onset Alzheimer's. Did I ever tell you that?"

Gunner shook his head. "You've never mentioned your dad."

"My parents had me later in life, both of them were thirty-eight when I was born. I don't know if they intended to have any more kids, but when my dad was forty, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's."

"I didn't realize someone so young could get Alzheimer's." Price hated the desolate look in Denise's eyes.

"It's rare, but it happens. My dad fought it for a few years, but it got bad. He couldn't remember who I was most days, but every now and then, there would be this moment of clarity. And it was good. We'd talk and it was nice."

Price started doing the math. Denise couldn't have been more than six years old. How much had watching her father's suffering impacted her, driven her decisions in life? Given her present profession, her non-stop working and determination to succeed, he'd say those early years had changed everything for her.

"What happened to your dad, Deni?"

Denise didn't look at Gunner-or at him-as she responded. Instead, she gazed straight ahead. "During one of his lucid periods, he killed himself. He always said he didn't want to be a bother to my mother, didn't want me to remember him as some lost soul. So he ended it."

Price felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "How old were you?"

"Seven."

"Jesus." Gunner's muttered comment mirrored Price's thoughts.

"It's okay," she said after a few moments. "I've made my peace with it. I really have. He wanted to die with dignity. That was his choice to make. I just want a world where no one else has to make that same decision."

Price took her hand and squeezed it. Game over. He was in love with this woman and he would be until the day he died.

"We're here," Gunner said as they pulled up to the hospital. They spent several hours sitting in the emergency room waiting for Curtis to come out of surgery, then even longer as the staff delivered him to recovery.

Denise held herself together until the doctor a.s.sured them Curtis was out of danger. Then she fell apart, crying tears of relief as Gunner held her.

They walked to Curtis's room together, allowing Denise to introduce them. She called Gunner her boyfriend and explained Price was a friend. Curtis accepted the news that she had a boyfriend with wide eyes and a loud hoot. Price instantly liked the research a.s.sistant.

When Gunner asked if he had seen his shooter. Curtis shook his head. He said that one minute he felt a sharp pain, the next he was waking up in this room.

Gunner and Price said their goodbyes and then stood outside the door of Curtis's hospital room while Denise visited a little longer.

After ten minutes, she emerged. "He's asleep."

Gunner took her hand as they returned to the limo. It was early evening. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, painting the sky a muted orange. Price's house was on the outskirts of the city and the ride there was spent in quiet contemplation. None of them broke the silence, all of them lost in their own thoughts.

It had been a long, stressful day, and all Price could think about was getting something to eat and settling down in front of the fireplace to relax with Gunner and Denise. He'd called ahead to let his cook know when they would arrive. After the meal, he'd send the servants to their living quarters. He wanted to show Gunner and Denise around their new home without the presence of others.

When they drove through the gated entrance, Denise gasped quietly as Gunner muttered, "holy f.u.c.k."

He'd grown up in the large mansion in Watertown, but even Price could appreciate the majesty of it. He hoped they wouldn't find it too intimidating or overwhelming.

"You really live here?" Denise asked. "Alone?"

Price took her hand as they exited the limo and led her up the grand staircase to the front door. "I do. I moved out after graduation and spent a few years in an apartment in downtown Boston. When my parents pa.s.sed away, it seemed wrong not to move back home."

"It's beautiful." Denise's eyes widened when they stepped into the elegant foyer. His butler and housekeeper were there to greet them.

"Good evening, Mr. Bennett. Beverly has dinner ready for you as requested. I'll help Roman carry in the bags. Joyce has prepared the guest rooms in the left wing.

Price shook his head. "No, put their bags in the right wing, in the room next to mine." The right wing had always been reserved for family only, the left used to accommodate out of town guests.

His butler, Patrick, nodded his head, hiding his surprise much better than Joyce, who began to eye Denise and Gunner with genuine curiosity.

Most of the servants in the house had worked for the Bennett family for decades. Price knew their loyalty was unwavering and his trust in them was absolute. While they might be able to hide their true a.s.sociation from the rest of the world, it would be impossible to do so at home.

Sometime soon, he would have to pull Joyce and Patrick aside, explain that he would be living in a menage relations.h.i.+p and make sure they understood the importance of their silence.

He wasn't looking forward to that awkward conversation.

Price led them to the dining room and they took their seats at one end of the long tiger-wood table. The silence from the limo drifted to the house, making dinner a tense affair. Price missed the casual conversations that had taken place around the tiny table in the hotel. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Price pushed away the coconut-creme pie his cook had made for dessert. "So what do you think of the place?"

Denise put down her fork, glancing around at the ornate dining room. He should have told the serving staff to set the meal up at the kitchen table. He only used this room when entertaining.

"I'm afraid to touch anything," she confessed.

Gunner nodded. "It's like living in a museum."

Price had done a terrible job introducing them to his home. So far he'd shown them the front foyer and the dining room, both places he rarely inhabited.

"Come on. Time for you to see the rest of the house."

He led them toward the back of the house, past all the public rooms. He'd show them the parlor and living room tomorrow. Tonight, they needed to see that despite the size of the mansion, it was truly a home.

They stepped into the family room and Denise released a long sigh of relief. He'd redecorated the room when he took over the house, making it a comfortable place where he could come home, kick off his shoes and recline in front of the TV for a few hours before bed.

"Now this is what I'm talking about." Gunner dropped down in one of the recliners, tugging on the pulley until it slid back and the foot cus.h.i.+on rose. "Oh yeah. This is good."

Price chuckled. "Glad you like my chair."

Denise kicked off her shoes and sat down on the plush couch. "I love this room."

"Good. Because I suspect this is where we'll spend most of our evenings together. The kitchen is through there with a breakfast nook. That's where I eat my meals when I'm not entertaining. My home office is through that door, but it's large enough that I suspect we could set up two more desks, so each of us has our own works.p.a.ce."

"And we'll sleep in the right wing?" Denise asked.

He nodded, wis.h.i.+ng she didn't still look quite so overwhelmed. "I haven't been in the left wing in nearly three months. It's shut up most of the time, only opened when someone comes to visit. I promise you, the family wing is just as homey and comfortable as this room. If you can forget about the extra, overdone, under-used rooms, I promise you this house is just as laidback as the next place. What's mine is yours, and I'm hoping you'll want to add your own stuff, your own touches. This is our home now. If you want it to be. If not..."

He wasn't sure what else to say. He loved his home and he wanted them to stay. But if they weren't comfortable moving in, he would pack up and follow where they led. He didn't have a choice. Not because of his vow to the Trinity Masters, but because of the commitment he felt toward them.

"I like it here." Denise lifted her feet beneath her and collapsed against the back of the couch. "It's your home. I'm touched that you want to share it with us."

He grinned. Leave it to Denise to know exactly the right thing to say. He joined her on the couch. "I'm glad you're here."

He reached out to touch her hair, and just like that the atmosphere in the room became charged, electric. Gunner didn't move from the recliner, but Price could feel his eyes on them, watching as Price leaned closer to kiss her.

Price wasted no time advancing their play. He reached for Denise's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, rubbing them through the material of her blouse and bra. She twisted on the couch until she faced him.

"Take off her s.h.i.+rt," Gunner directed.

Price glanced over at the recliner. Gunner had lowered the footrest and leaned forward, but he didn't come to join them.

"I want to watch you f.u.c.k our girl," Gunner said as he reached for the b.u.t.ton at his waistband, unfastening it before sliding down the zipper. Then he lifted his hips just enough to shove his pants and boxers to his knees. His c.o.c.k stood erect, the head brus.h.i.+ng against his stomach. Gunner gripped himself tightly, then lifted his head and gestured for Price to keep going.

Their lover was a voyeur. Price had never considered himself an exhibitionist, but knowing that Gunner was watching drove even more blood to his c.o.c.k.

Price reached for Denise's blouse. He started to unfasten the first b.u.t.ton but then decided he didn't have time for that. He ripped the material along the front, dragging it over her arms. Her bra quickly followed. Price laid her down on the couch, caging her beneath him as he roughly sucked first one and then the other nipple into his mouth. Denise gripped his hair with her fingers and he sensed she was torn between holding him to her and pus.h.i.+ng him away. She was new to pleasurable pain. When she moaned, pulling him closer, he resisted the urge to pump a fist in the air. She would accept everything they dished out. During their time at the hotel they'd limited their s.e.x play, keeping it as vanilla as a threesome could. He and Gunner took turns f.u.c.king her, teaching her how to suck their c.o.c.ks.

Now, Price longed to expand on those lessons. He wanted to spank her, tie her up, blindfold her, f.u.c.k her a.s.s. A lifetime wouldn't be long enough to explore all the ways he wanted to take her.

"Get those f.u.c.king pants off her," Gunner demanded.

Price heard Gunner's quiet panting, could see his friend stroking his own c.o.c.k as he watched them.

Price tackled the zipper on Denise's slacks, stripping them and her panties away. Then he released himself from the confinement of his pants. He restrained a groan of relief as the pressure of the thick material on his c.o.c.k was lifted. He quickly shed his s.h.i.+rt as well.

"f.u.c.k her with your fingers. I want to hear her cry out, wanna watch her close those pretty blue eyes of hers when she comes."

Price wanted the same thing. He dragged his fingers along her wet slit, toying with her c.l.i.t. Denise lifted her hips when he pinched it.

"Oh, G.o.d," she muttered, her head thras.h.i.+ng on the cus.h.i.+ons. "Please."

Price grinned. "That's right, beauty. Beg me. Beg for it."

"Price." She fisted her hands into the couch cus.h.i.+ons as he pressed two fingers deep inside her. He didn't give her time to adjust to the invasion. Instead, he released the reins, gave in to the need driving him. He prided himself on his control. His finesse. His skills in the bedroom.

Denise stripped that pride away.

He thrust his fingers deep, driving her quickly to climax. She screamed as she came. Price continued to take, demanded more. He added a third finger and pressed his thumb against her c.l.i.t. She stiffened and came again.

"G.o.d dammit, Price. f.u.c.k her. f.u.c.k her hard."

A quick glance to his left confirmed Gunner was close. His hand was slapping his flesh faster.

Price pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his d.i.c.k. He shoved in to the hilt as Denise lifted her hands to his upper arms. She dug into the flesh there, sc.r.a.ping her nails over his skin. He relished the pain.

Over and over, he pounded into her until her s.e.x clenched, her o.r.g.a.s.m forcing him to fall off the cliff as well.

Jets of come erupted, and still he thrust, moving until every last drop was squeezed out.

When he opened his eyes, regained his senses, Gunner was there, standing next to them. Price couldn't look away as Gunner stroked his own c.o.c.k harder, faster.

Denise lay still beneath them, and then she reached down to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, holding them up, offering them. "Come on me," she pleaded.

Her words claimed another causality. Gunner's free hand flew to Price's shoulder, clinging to him for support as he climaxed, his come covering Denise's b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her stomach.

It was the hottest thing Price had ever seen.

Neither of them moved for a few minutes, then Gunner pulled away and dragged his pants up without bothering to refasten them.

"How many rooms are in this house, Price?" he asked.

Price shrugged. "Christ. I don't know. Dozens."

Gunner grinned at him, slapping Price on the back. "Well, we just initiated the first one. What do you say we tackle the shower next?"

Chapter Six.

Gunner walked into Price's office early the next morning and dropped a folder in front of him.

Price looked up from his computer screen. "What's this?"