Chapter 6

Chapter Six

M ontana knew that Lockheed Martin was working on an implantable translator chip, and right now, he would have volunteered for the first human trial just so he could talk to Dr. Cholak without needing Vadisk to translate.

Not that Vadisk wasn't doing a good job, but the man kept stopping to mutter, "What the fuck?" with a wide-eyed look every time Dr. Cholak said something interesting.

Apparently, their discussion on how and when anatomically modern humans arrived in Eastern Europe, and human evolution in general, was stressing Vadisk out.

Honestly, it was kind of cute to see the big man looking so disconcerted.

Montana looked from Vadisk, crouched beside Dr. Cholak—an expert in the upper middle paleolithic—to Dahlia, who was standing on the lip of the excavated rock shelter, a camera strapped to her chest.

Vadisk was nodding at Dr. Cholak, but then stopped and said something that made the professor smile.

"Please translate," Montana almost begged.

"I said all that from a tooth?" Vadisk was shaking his head. He paused, eyes going wide. "If these were anatomically modern humans, does that really mean they had the same brain capacity we have?"

"Did you ask Dr. Cholak?"

"I did. And he said yes." Vadisk looked at the soil and stone around them. "So you're saying that forty-thousand years ago, someone just like me lived here, yet had only basic stone tools."

Dahlia carefully joined them at the bottom of the rock shelter, using the ladder Dr. Cholak had brought to descend to the platform where they stood. Luckily, the rock shelter was more of a scoop out of the stone landscape rather than an enclosed cave. At one point, it had probably been a cave, but time had whittled it down to a stony alcove.

Dahlia crouched by Montana's side, looking at Vadisk. "Why is that upsetting?"

"Because I always thought the men with stone tools were cavemen." Vadisk pushed his hand against his forehead.

"You're talking about Homo neanderthalensis ," Montana said.

Dr. Cholak nodded, having understood the scientific Latin name, and Vadisk's flat forehead gesture.

Montana went on to explain. "It's possible that the people who lived here, who were some of the first documented anatomically modern humans in Eastern Europe and who looked like us, interacted with Homo neanderthalensis . We know there was interbreeding. That's how and why there are some people with four-percent neanderthal DNA walking around today."

Vadisk stood and started pacing the platform that had been built by the excavation team and left in place to help protect the site. "Same brain capacity, same ability to dream and create and all that, but they just had basic tools, no agriculture, no medicine. They had to just watch their family die from basic shit."

"People still die from basic shit like starvation and exposure in modern times," Dahlia said mildly.

Vadisk threw his hands up. "Yes, but that's fucked up, and we know it's fucked up. That was just…how it was."

"Yes," Montana agreed, hiding his surprise at Vadisk's reaction. Imagining what the internal world for these people might have been—would they have fought death and grieved a loss in the same way modern humans did—was one of the things that had driven him to biological anthropology.

Dr. Cholak was frowning, probably because he didn't know what they were saying, and Dahlia scooted closer to him. His brows rose when she quickly translated what Montana had said. That turned into a quick conversation, during which Dahlia's smile widened.

Montana narrowed his eyes at her, then looked at Vadisk, who'd stopped pacing to listen. He looked over at Montana, their gazes met, and there was a moment of understanding.

"Montana." Dahlia turned to him. "I know you originally said you didn't think this would be worth filming, but Dr. Cholak thinks it would be a good idea."

Montana suppressed a grimace. "Did you already propose we film?"

He knew the answer based on the way the other man was grinning. Montana was fairly certain that he'd look like a dumbass on camera, which is why he'd originally dodged her question about filming this visit.

"Yes," Dahlia replied.

"You do remember that I was planning to ask him to be on my dissertation committee, right?" Montana asked.

Dr. Cholak was a world-renowned paleoarchaeologist and having him on the committee would be amazing. The blackmail had given him a reason to go looking for people to meet with, but he couldn't deny that this "cover story" was actually thrilling for purely academic reasons.

"Were you?" Dahlia blinked in mock surprise.

Vadisk started to laugh.

"You both suck." Montana rose to his feet.

"Yes, I do," Dahlia murmured.

Montana and Vadisk both whipped around to face her.

Dahlia rose smoothly, arching a brow at them, before speaking to Dr. Cholak.

"Vadisk, do you want to translate or film?" she asked after a moment.

"Those are my options?"

"Yes."

Vadisk sighed and held his hand out for the camera. Dahlia took off the harness that held the camera to her chest, fitting the camera into a frame that made it easier to hold, then passed it to him.

Being in front of the camera wasn't as bad as Montana had imagined because Dahlia not only translated but played host, guiding him and Dr. Cholak with questions. Montana quickly warmed up to his topic, excitedly talking about the accelerator mass spectrometry carbon dating techniques used on the bones—both of humanoid remains and other fauna. He and Dr. Cholak seamlessly alternated as they explained the significance of places like Buran-Kaya III, both for specific artifacts and remains, and how the layering at the site told its own story.

Vadisk had a funny look on his face by the time they wrapped up the filming, and Dahlia's smile had a softly amused edge.

Dr. Cholak went to roll up his laminated maps, and Montana stepped closer to his spouses.

"Why are you two looking at me like that?" he asked.

"You're a nerd." Dahlia's eyes sparkled as she grinned.

"I am not," Montana protested.

Vadisk frowned. "Nerd is not a bad thing in English, right?"

"No, not really," Dahlia said.

Vadisk's frown turned into a grin. "You're a nerd."

Montana tried to fight his own smile, to maintain the protest, but this moment of shared amusement made him damned happy.

"That was verra much fun," Dahlia slurred as she staggered into the villa. If she hadn't been clinging to his arm, Montana was fairly certain she would have fallen on her ass.

He chuckled as she patted her hand on his chest.

"Verrrra much fun," she repeated slower, clearly trying to slur her words less. Hilariously, she slurred them more.

Vadisk shut and locked the door behind them, the grin he'd been trying to hold back escaping. He chuckled. "You're drunk."

Dahlia waved her hand toward Vadisk, dismissing him. "Pssh. Tipsy at best."

"You and I clearly define tipsy differently," Montana joked.

"It's not my fault," Dahlia insisted, dropping heavily down onto the couch. "That man kept filling up my glass."

Montana couldn't fault her there because she spoke the truth. After the visit to Buran-Kaya III and meeting with Dr. Cholak, they headed to Massandra Winery. She'd scheduled a private tour while back in the States. Upon their arrival, they'd been met by the vintner and the winery manager, both thrilled by the opportunity to be featured in Dahlia's documentaries.

The manager, Bekir, had been particularly effusive in regards to their visit, giving them a tour of the entire place, while filling them in on the history of the winery. It was fascinating stuff, but after two hours of holding the camera, Montana had been relieved when the man finally led them to the tasting room.

He and Vadisk had taken a few sips as Bekir pulled out bottle after bottle of wine for them to sample, both aware they needed to keep their wits about them. Bekir didn't notice their drinking habits, too busy trying to impress Dahlia.

As such, she'd had more than enough wine for the three of them. So much so that she'd fallen fast asleep, her head resting on Montana's shoulder, on the long ride back to the resort.

She wasn't as drunk as she'd been when they left the winery, but she was still under the effects and feeling no pain. Though the nap in the car seemed to have revived her.

Vadisk, who'd escaped to the kitchen, walked into the living room with a bottle of water for each of them.

Dahlia stuck out her lower lip. "Water. Ugh. Why don't we open that bottle of red that Bekir gave us?"

Montana sank down next to Dahlia on the couch, uncapping the bottle of water and handing it to her. "Let's save that for another day, our lovely lush."

"It was an amazing tour," Dahlia said, after gulping down nearly half the bottle of water.

Vadisk leaned against one of the walls rather than sitting with them. Montana hated the distance between them, even though he understood Vadisk's reason for it.

"I didn't expect it to be so interesting," Vadisk admitted. "The cellars were impressive and some of that wine…"

"So old," Dahlia added enthusiastically. "It was the production process that surprised me," she continued as she and Vadisk launched into a conversation about the inner workings of the winery as well as the history.

Montana tried to follow along, but he was too distracted. Vadisk's arms were crossed over his chest, casually drawing his attention to his husband's very large, very sexy biceps. Despite the warm weather, Vadisk wore long-sleeved shirts. When Dahlia commented on it, asking him if he was hot, he told them he needed to hide the tattoos on his arm because the Ukrainian military tats would give him away.

Montana was sorry he'd learned about the tattoos because now he was anxious to see them. Sweet Jesus. Vadisk was a sexy man fully clothed. Montana could only imagine what he would look like without his shirt. His cock thickened as he allowed himself to visualize what he was certain was beneath the button-down. Vadisk would definitely have six—no, eight-pack abs—and an Adonis belt. Montana was no slouch in the muscles department, but that didn't mean he wasn't considering adding a few extra rounds of crunches and planks to his daily workout routine.

He crossed his legs, trying to hide the fact he was sitting here with a hard-on.

How different might things have been for the three of them had they been introduced as a trinity then left alone to get to know each other rather than immediately thrust into a dangerous mission.

He let the idea play out. They would have headed to the honeymoon suite of some swanky hotel. Newly formed trinities in America typically spent a week together on the top floor of Boston Park Plaza. He imagined them talking a bit about themselves over wine, perhaps sharing a meal delivered by room service. They'd share subtle heated looks, knees touching as they sat near each other, the brushing of fingers and lips as Dahlia offered him and Vadisk a taste of her dinner—feeding it to them. Montana would brush Dahlia's hair over her shoulder, the same way she had a few times today, whenever those rogue strands covered her eyes. Vadisk would put his hand on Montana's shoulder as they shared "war stories," the two of them bonded by their military backgrounds.

In his mind, it all would have been so simple and perfect. And at the end of that first evening, they would have walked into the bedroom, undressed each other, and?—

"Montana?" Dahlia shook his arm, making it clear it wasn't the first time she'd said his name.

"Sorry," he said. "You caught me daydreaming."

"Care to share with the rest of the class what you were thinking?" Her eyes briefly flashed toward his lap before returning to his face with a knowing grin.

Montana reached over and traced the ends of her hair with his fingers. They were only a few days into this relationship and he was falling fast and hard for his wife. He was tempted to tell her how fucking adorable she was, but he had a good feeling their strong, take-no-prisoners wife wouldn't care for that descriptor.

"Let's just say that I was always the kid who wanted what he couldn't have," Montana confessed.

Dahlia's eyes darted over to Vadisk, who sighed heavily.

"Montana," he started.

Montana raised his hand to cut the other man off. "I'm not saying I disagree with your reason for holding back with us, V."

Vadisk lit up at Montana's nickname for him. He'd started calling his husband V earlier in the day and when it became clear how much Vadisk liked it, he just kept going. "I'm just saying it might help if you didn't look like sex on a stick all the damn time."

Dahlia, who'd been taking a sip of water, spit it in a wide spray as she laughed, some of it landing on Montana's hands. "Oh my God. Right? He's so fucking built. I mean…hello, Thor."

Vadisk smirked, then lowered his arms, standing straighter. "You think it's easy for me, hanging out with the two of you all day and not being able to touch you?"

Montana felt a twinge of guilt, aware Vadisk had spoken out against the couple ruse on the plane. Of course, if they'd gone with Vadisk's cover story, none of them would be able to touch, so…

Yeah, maybe he didn't feel as guilty as he should when he leaned toward Dahlia, knocking his shoulder against hers before grasping her hand and pulling it up so he could place a kiss on her palm. "Our husband thinks we're hot."

Dahlia pulled her hand from his, brushing droplets of water off her pants. The smile that had been there mere seconds ago was now absent. "You're going to have to sleep in a different room tonight."

Montana panicked for a second, afraid he'd somehow offended her.

Before he could ask what he'd done, she added, "Because I'm drunk and horny."

While the words were funny, none of them were in the right state of mind to laugh.

Instead, Vadisk growled, Montana subtly attempted to adjust his pants—because fuck his dick was rock-hard right now—and Dahlia clenched her thighs together, her hands gripping her knees tightly.

She grimaced. "I'm never going to be able to sleep if I don't take care of this situation."

"Dahlia," Vadisk started. It was clear from their husband's tone that he was about to give them his blessing to start the honeymoon…without him.

Montana shook his head, ready to set Vadisk straight, but Dahlia beat him to the punch.

"We're not having sex without you. That's not fair to you and not how I want to start our marriage. I want our first time to be our first time," she said, pointing from her to Montana to Vadisk. "All of us together."

"I want that too," Montana said, throwing her his support. "Separate rooms might not be a bad idea. Just for tonight." He hadn't consumed much wine, so he couldn't blame his own out-of-control arousal on alcohol.

Nope.

His condition had been caused by them, plain and simple.

While Vadisk didn't say as much, it was clear he was feeling the same painful needs. He fell silent for a moment, and Montana could almost see the wheels spinning in his head.

"What are you thinking?" Montana asked him.

"You aren't sleeping in separate beds," Vadisk said at last, gruffly.

"I can't—" Dahlia started.

"You can." Vadisk's tone was sharp, though Montana thought the heat was based more on sexual frustration than anger. "We've both scanned the villa countless times for bugs and cameras."

Montana nodded. "We have."

Vadisk rubbed his beard, looking at both of them with pure lust in his gaze. It appeared their husband was very close to hitting his breaking point. "The two of you haven't done a very good job establishing yourselves as a couple."

Dahlia frowned. "We didn't want to hurt you, to make you feel left out."

Vadisk cast his gaze toward Montana, who grimaced. "You're right. We haven't."

"We're going to change that tonight," Vadisk replied confidently.

Montana tilted his head, curious. "How?"

"We're going to get showers," Vadisk explained, "and get ready for bed." He glanced out the window. Night had fallen, painting the world in darkness outside, but more than that. A storm had rolled in, the moon hidden behind thick, dark clouds. The rain that had started just as they'd returned home to the villa was now coming down hard. "You're going to get into your bed and then…" He paused for a moment. "Wait for me."

"Wait for you?" Montana whispered. "Vadisk?—"

He cut him off. "I can't be with you, not physically. It's too fucking dangerous. If I crawl into that bed, my focus will be solely on you, and I can't let that happen. So I'm going to stand guard by the door…and I'm going to watch."

"Watch," Dahlia whispered hungrily.

"I can't imagine anyone is outside on a night like tonight. Even if they are, the curtains in your room are closed. It will be good for the two of you to become more comfortable with each other if we plan to sell the idea of you being a couple. And if anyone breaks in, I'll be right by the door, able to protect us."

"Is this a two birds, one stone sort of thing?" Dahlia was grinning, still enjoying the aftereffects of the wine.

Vadisk nodded. "I can't join you, can't be too far away from the door in case I need to move fast, but I can still be a part…even if I can't touch."

Montana admired Vadisk's restraint. He wasn't sure he'd have the same strength to hold back. Not after spending the past two days with them.

"If you're not ready to move things to the next level—" Vadisk started.

"I am," Dahlia hastily interjected.

Montana nodded his assent as well.

"Then there are two ways this can go down. Either you touch yourself while Montana and I watch, Dahlia. Or…"

"Or?" Montana prompted, his heart beating rapidly as he prayed Vadisk was offering the choice he wanted her to make.

"Or," Vadisk said, looking at Dahlia, "I'll watch from the shadows as you and Montana touch."

"That one," Dahlia breathed, her gaze darting over to Montana. "I want you to touch me while Vadisk watches."

Montana started to nod but stopped short when Vadisk said, "I should clarify something to both of you. I'm not just going to watch. I'm going to direct. Going to tell you exactly what I want you to do."

Fuck.

Montana was nearly panting with need. They needed to move this to the bedroom now.

"Okay," Dahlia and Montana agreed in unison.

"We're all yours," Montana said, quickly rising from the couch.

Dangerous or not, he couldn't spend another night without them.