Power Up 3: Whispered Words Read Online Free Page A

back of his head and a long arm encased in a sweater.
    She shivered. Before she could decide what to do next, something cold and hard pressed against her temple. Damn. A pistol. She held her breath. The voices had been right. It was too late to find them now.

    “Easy, sweetheart. Drop the gun.” Joshua didn’t relent until she dropped her weapon in the snow. He clearly had size on her, but he’d made it a habit never to underestimate anyone. In his experience, the female of the species was much more lethal than the male. He took a step back. “Hands up. Now turn around. Slowly.” The small woman bundled in a polar vest, gloves, jeans, boots, and a skull cap all dusted in snow could have passed for Frosty’s wife before she turned around.
    When Josh got a good look at her face, the blood rushed from his head.
    Absolutely beautiful. Not a pale cream or a dark brown, her cheeks looked caramel in color, flushed with cold and no doubt anger that she’d been caught. Long black hair trailed over her shoulders and contrasted with the light blue-gray eyes of a woman who could have owned any man she wanted. Full lips, a slender nose, and a stubborn chin completed the picture of seduction personified.
    “Well?” Her husky voice shot a bolt of lust straight to his cock.
    Yeah, she had killer looks. He couldn’t quite peg her ethnicity. Black, Hispanic, Indian? A mix? Hell, he didn’t much care. She’d perked his interest enough that he wanted to peel her like a banana and see what lay under the layers of clothing. But the shock of what felt almost like recognition unnerved him. She had the same height as that woman Xavier had rescued the other night from the warehouse, but his sense of familiarity went beyond that. He’d tried more than once to see into his own future, but lately he caught nothing. His attempt now showed him more of the same. Shit.
    He leaned down and grabbed her pistol from the snow. After making sure the safety was engaged, he tucked the gun in the back of his jeans.

    “You first.” He nodded to the front of the house with his weapon, a handy .45 that could and had blown holes through flesh and bone.
    She made no sudden moves and kept her hands where he could see them, on either side of her head. Not one flinch or tremble from the steady woman—a sign she most likely had experience with dangerous situations. She walked with graceful steps, even through the white powder accumulating on the ground. When she reached the front porch, she stopped.
    “Up the steps and through the door.” He still didn’t understand why he hadn’t seen this coming. His foresight had never failed to alert him to any threat. An advanced sense of self-preservation, his foresight protected him and his brother, usually without fail. Yet a woman with a gun had spied on them through their own goddamn kitchen window.
    Glancing over her shoulder at him, she narrowed her eyes but didn’t speak.
    She faced forward and paused to stomp the snow off her boots. A thoughtful intruder. How nice.
    As they entered, Xavier added his two cents from the couch. “Nice catch. And yeah, I told you so.”
    “Shut up.” It took real patience to ignore the urge to belt his brother, and he didn’t understand why. Normally easygoing where his twin had a hair-trigger temper, lately he’d been off his game. He glanced at the woman, wondering what she thought.
    She looked from Xavier to him and back. She blinked but remained quiet. He could imagine her surprise. Identical twins, he and Xavier looked enough alike to be the same person. Down to the fingerprints, not one physical difference had ever been documented between them. His parents couldn’t even tell them apart.
    Both dark-haired and dark-eyed, they had several inches on the woman. While their younger brothers took after their father and had the size and strength of grizzlies, he and Xavier inched just over six feet. They had less brawn than speed but enough muscle to get the job done.