Scorching Desire (The Trinity Masters) Read online

  Scorching Desire

  The Trinity Masters, Book Three

  By Lila Dubois and Mari Carr

  Copyright 2013 Lila Dubois and Mari Carr

  First electronic publication: November 2013

  ISBN: 978-0-9889107-8-2

  Cover by Valerie Tibbs

  Published by Farm Boy Press

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writers’ imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

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  There is power and passion in three.

  A reformed spy. A respectable lawyer. A renowned playboy.

  On the surface they have nothing in common, but they're members of America's oldest, and most powerful, secret society—the Trinity Masters. When a blackmail scheme puts Damon Corzo’s career in jeopardy the Grand Master calls on Tasha Kasharin, a reformed Russian spy, to clean up the mess. The assistant U.S. attorney was caught on camera at one of Marco Polin’s infamous sex parties. Tasha works with Marco and Damon to discover which of the orgy attendees might be a blackmailer. The sexual attraction between them is immediate, but though Damon and Marco have partied together before they prefer the girls to outnumber the boys when the clothes come off. Tasha tries to ignore her increasingly vivid fantasies about the two different yet equally attractive men—her past is too dangerous to risk getting close to anyone. Their blackmail investigation is interrupted when all three are called to the Trinity Masters’ altar and bound together in a ménage marriage.

  Blackmail escalates to violence, and time is running out. Tasha knows there is more at stake than blackmail, and Marco and Damon’s lives may be in jeopardy. She has no choice but to trust her new husbands with her secrets, which include her dark past and the fact that though she uses sexuality like a weapon, she’s technically a virgin. Damon must trust his future to the mysterious woman who’s now his wife, even as he works with Marco to seduce the unexpectedly innocent Tasha. When blackmail escalates to violence they’ll have to trust one another with more than their hearts, but their very lives, and in the end it’s only the trinity that can protect them against the forces that are working to destroy the Trinity Masters.

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  Chapter One

  He’d put them all in danger.

  Damon put his hand in his pocket and formed a fist, trying to hide his anger. He had no one to be angry at but himself.

  “You understand what’s at stake.” The Grand Master sat in shadow, only his right hand, which lay on the desk, visible. They were in the secret headquarters of the Trinity Masters, deep under the Boston library.

  “I do, Grand Master.” Damon couldn’t stand still. He paced the private office. “I’ll resign.”

  “And how will that benefit the Trinity Masters?”

  “I’ll resign from everything, including the Trinity Masters.”

  “Mr. Corzo, I think you forget who we are. You do not leave the Trinity Masters.”

  Damon turned away, examining the shadowy corners of the office. The Trinity Masters were America’s oldest and most powerful secret society. Formed as the states were uniting in rebellion, the first leaders sought to strengthen their new nation through alliances between powerful and important people. They used the arranged marriages to connect influential families, captains of industry and religious leaders. But it wasn’t just two people they united, it was three.

  In modern times, becoming a member meant access to some of the most powerful and innovative thinkers in the country. If you were selected to join you were guaranteed to rise far and fast. The Trinity Masters counted politicians, CEOs, Nobel Prize winning scientists and world-renowned artists among their ranks. The Grand Master of the Trinity Masters helped the members excel in their chosen profession or field, and when the time came, he called them to the altar and matched them with two others in a trinity marriage.

  At twenty-seven, Damon was already an Assistant U.S. Attorney, the third step in a six-part fifteen-year plan to put him on the federal bench. He’d joined the Trinity Masters in college. It hadn’t made his life easier. Instead, it had pushed him to work harder, to excel each step of the way.

  And knowing that he would someday be part of an arranged marriage meant he had taken full advantage of the fact he didn’t need to worry about dating or relationships.

  That had led to his current problem.

  “Your friendship with Marco Polin was unusual, but not problematic.” The Grand Master tapped his fingers on the top of his desk. “Until now.”

  “I know, Grand Master.”

  “There are several legal options.” Damon rubbed his eyebrow. “But almost all of them would then require the video be entered into evidence. We could try to limit access to the evidence. The likelihood that anyone who sees the video would make the connection between Marco and I and the Trinity—”

  “Is an unacceptable risk. Your rings are clearly visible. It would be far too easy for someone to start wondering why an Assistant US Attorney and a famous cellist were wearing matching rings while they fucked the same woman.”

  Damon hung his head.

  Taking advantage of his freedom until he was called to the altar had included indulging in every sexual desire and kink that ever interested him. His job required him to be circumspect with his personal life. But luckily, Marco Polin—a college friend who was also in the Trinity Masters—was a famous musician with the elegant playboy lifestyle that only classical musicians could pull off. For years Damon had been attending Marco’s parties, which had the tendency to devolve into orgies, to indulge himself.

  This time they’d been caught on tape. The blackmail video had shown up in his personal email three days ago. He’d immediately gotten in touch with the Grand Master, who’d ordered him to Boston.

  “Tell me again, how many people were at the party?”

  “When the video was taken? Ten, maybe. They were all women except for Marco and I.”

  “An enjoyable sex party.”

  “It wasn’t like that…” The protest was lame. It had been exactly like that. It was hardly his fault that he enjoyed sexy, adventurous women. And when the one Marco was fucking had beckoned him over so she could suck his cock, who was he to stand in the way of a lady’s pleasure?

  “How did these women come to be at the party?”

  “I’m not sure.” Despite the seriousness of the situation, Damon’s lips twitched. “Marco attracts beautiful women.”

  “This is risky behavior.”

  “Don’t worry, we’re both on the new experimental STD vaccines.”

  “How thrilling that you’re taking advantage of your fellow Trinity Master’s scientific advancements.”

  Damon was a respected and aggressive attorney, a fearless human-rights activist and an expert pugilist. The Grand Master made him feel like a stupid teenager.

  “Grand Master, I deeply regret what I’ve done and the trouble it’s caused you and the Trinity Masters. The blackmailer didn’t mention the matching rings—they just want money. I’ll quit the Trinity Masters and pay the blackmailer. I will,
of course, still help you in any way you ask. I will remain a friend to the Trinity Masters.”

  The Grand Master picked up a letter opener and balanced it on the top of the desk. It didn’t escape Marco that it was shaped like a sword.

  “Many of our members have helped you get where you are today. I don’t discount your abilities—you’re unique in your passion and remarkable in your skills, but neither will I discount our efforts to accelerate your career. You would be a valuable addition to the justice system.”

  The Grand Master sat forward, his strong face visible by the light of the single desk lamp. Damon noticed just a trace of weariness in the man’s eyes that surprised him. However, that brief sign of weakness was soon replaced with a hard expression that said the Grand Master would not be crossed.

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten why our society exists. We protect the United States, we ensure that the best and the brightest rise to protect the ideals of our great nation. You’re part of that plan. We need you on the bench as a federal judge.”

  “Yes, Grand Master.” Damon bowed his head.

  “I will send someone to assist you with the situation. I expect your full attention until this is resolved.”

  “I have to be in court in ten days, sir.”

  “Then you have a deadline. I will contact you.”

  Damon looked at the Grand Master, waiting to hear what the plan was or who he would send to help them. From his time as a prosecutor and working in a private firm, Damon knew that blackmail was infamously unreported, precisely because by its very nature it meant that the victim couldn’t, or wouldn’t, go to the authorities. The situation would have been bad enough for him personally and professionally even without the added complication of his actions putting the secret of the Trinity Masters in jeopardy.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Corzo.”

  Damon raised one brow. There was no mistaking that dismissal.

  He made his way out of the Trinity Masters’ headquarters, taking the secret elevator to the rare-book room in the back of the Boston Library. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he walked.

  “Marc,” he said when his friend picked up. “I just met with the GM. I’m coming to Chicago.”

  He booked a flight on his phone as he hailed a cab. All he could hope was that the Grand Master had some very good tricks up his sleeve.

  *****

  The Grand Master swiveled his chair, staring into the shadows in the corner.

  “Well?” he asked.

  Natasha Kasharin stepped from the darkness into the light. She wore slim black pants and a white button-down shirt, which should have been simple, nearly androgynous attire. But she looked more sexual than another woman would in lingerie, and more dangerous than a Navy SEAL in full gear.

  “You heard?” he asked her.

  Natasha, who went by Tasha, cocked her head to the side, blonde hair falling against her cheek. “Blackmailed at an orgy? How original.”

  The Grand Master’s lips twitched. Tasha was witty and fun, but few people had an opportunity to see it. Natasha’s life had been anything but easy—her membership in the Trinity Masters was meant to correct that, to give her safety and a chance at a meaningful, if not exactly traditional, relationship.

  Though she was American by birth, she was the daughter of two KGB agents and had been raised to be a spy for Russia. At the age of twelve she’d turned herself in to the CIA and spent high school as a double agent, reporting on her own parents’ activities.

  Her patriotism had come at a terrible cost, and when her CIA handler—a Trinity Masters member—retired, he’d helped Tasha get out of the spy business and made sure she became a member of their society.

  The Grand Master had wanted to respect his old friend’s request that Tasha be given a life worthy of her sacrifice, but she was too skilled and valuable a resource for him to ignore. In the five years since she’d been a member, she’d cleaned up messes, taken down those who stood in their way and retrieved information they needed.

  He’d used her the same way her parents had. The same way the CIA had.

  As much as he might want to stick to his ideals, the Grand Master couldn’t ignore the sharpest weapon in his arsenal. There were men and women who were more dangerous, more powerful. They were guns—violent and hot, or knives—sharp and cold. Tasha was a syringe full of poison—silent, deadly and unnoticed until it was too late. And unlike the others he considered dangerous, Tasha had nothing to lose.

  “I will talk to him first,” she said. “He is lying about something.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me. He’ll go to Chicago. Marco has a place there.”

  “The other man in the video?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, I will talk to both of them.” She walked toward the door.

  “Tasha.”

  “Yes?” She didn’t turn, but her steps paused.

  “Don’t kill anyone.”

  She turned her head just enough for him to see the curve of her cheek. “There are so many things worse than death.”

  The Grand Master stared at the closed door of his office for a long time after she left.

  ~~~~

  Chapter Two

  Marco Polin ran through Chopin’s Scherzo No. 2 Op. 31.

  “For God’s sake,” Damon muttered. He brought a coaster over and set it on the edge of the baby grand where Marc had propped his drink. “Use a damned coaster. And play something else. I’m sick of that piece.”

  “You’ll make an excellent wife,” Marco told his best friend, ignoring the request to change pieces. Playing calmed him, and Scherzo No. 2 was complicated enough that he had to concentrate. There was no space in his head to worry about their current predicament.

  “I’m not going to defend you in court when you’re sued for ruining that piano by using it as a table.” Damon was pacing, a sure sign he was stressed. His hair was mussed, the light-brown strands disheveled, which was very unlike Damon.

  “It’s my piano.” Marco shifted to the right as the key changed.

  “No, it’s not. It’s on loan to you.”

  Marco snorted. “You worry too much.”

  “How much is that thing worth again?”

  “This piano?” Marco pounded through a crescendo, feeling the music swell through him. “Most likely it’s priceless. Charles Walter only makes sixty pianos a year.”

  When Damon didn’t say anything more, Marco looked over his shoulder. His best friend was standing at one of the glass walls, looking out over the Chicago skyline. Damon’s two-story condo with reinforced floors that allowed him to have the piano, had a good, if not excellent, view. Of all his homes—London, Singapore and Chicago—this condo was his favorite. It felt the most like home.

  And one of the reasons it felt like home was staring out the window. Though Damon was now based in Los Angeles at the US Attorney’s office there, he’d been living in Chicago working for a litigation firm before that. Those few years, when he and Damon had lived together, enjoying the many amenities available to the young and wealthy, had been some of Marco’s happiest.

  He doubted Damon knew that, and he would never tell him. Damon wasn’t tormented by emotions the way Marco was—a trait Marco both envied and pitied. The closeness they shared was precious to Marco, but he suspected telling Damon that would make the other man uncomfortable.

  “Who do you think they’ll send?” Marco asked.

  “Price Bennett is a member. I heard someone mention his name at one of the annual meetings.”

  “They’re parties, not meetings.” Marco shook his head. Only Damon would call a costumed masquerade a meeting. “And who is Price Bennett?”

  “Seriously? He’s CEO of Bennett Securities and heir to one of the largest fortunes in North America. The guy’s richer than Trump, extremely well connected and the one to call if you need someone to watch your back. I’d be surprised if the guy didn’t break the equivalent of this generation’s Watergate scandal in his lifetime. He’s got e
yes and ears everywhere. The only problem is I understand he was recently matched. For all we know he could be out of the country on his honeymoon. I hope to God he’s not.”

  Marco finished the piece with a flourish and then closed the key cover of the piano. “Because he could help us?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. How do you stop a blackmailer?”

  Marco picked up his drink and carried it—and the coaster—to the window. Slinging his free arm around Damon’s shoulders, he took a sip. “I don’t know. I’m afraid my faith in humanity is broken.”

  “We knew we were playing with fire.”

  “Ah, but what’s the point if you aren’t risking a burn?”

  Damon’s jaw clenched and his shoulders went rigid, but then he relaxed. “I want to be pissed at you, but it’s hard.”

  “Why would you be mad at me?”

  “Because you have terrible taste in women.”

  “I have excellent taste in women.” Marco took Damon’s glass and went to the wet bar to make them fresh drinks.

  “If you did, one of them wouldn’t be blackmailing me.”

  “I didn’t realize you expected me to find us women who are beautiful, sexually adventurous and moral.”

  “If anyone could find them you could.” Damon accepted his glass and raised it in salute.

  “Next time I’ll be more selective.” Marco took a sip and then wandered over to the massive white-leather couch that dominated his living room.

  “I doubt there will be a next time,” Damon said, following Marco over.

  “Why? I’m sure this will be fixed.”

  “You have a lot of faith.”

  “Do you doubt the Trinity Masters’ power?” Marco had no illusions about his skill as a musician—he was exceptionally gifted, yet there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of people with his same skill level who did not enjoy his career and international fame. The Trinity Masters had been his patrons, putting him in front of the right people at the right times. Marco’s belief in the organization was absolute.