Marie Harte - [PowerUp! 08] Read Free

him. Though Ian preferred to remain distant, now that he had to work closely with the man once more, he was determined to one-up His Millionaire Hotness. “Your orders, boss?”
    “Oh, I like that.” Owen chuckled and removed his hand. “My car’s out front. I’ll even let you drive.”
    Ian perked up. A chance to sit behind the wheel of Owen’s new Porsche Boxter? Hell, yeah. He practically skipped out of the gym and waited impatiently next to the car, excited to feel the wind in his hair, and ignored the fact that it was Owen, more than the vehicle, who aroused his passion.
     
    OWEN STARED AFTER Ian, amused and satisfied more than he should have been. Ian Ryder had looks, a brain, and the ability to screw with Owen’s concentration—which in itself was a cause for alarm. But Owen hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he needed Ian’s talent.
    A forger without compare, Ian could copy anything and reproduce it with such authenticity that even the original artist couldn’t tell the difference. His unique talent had never been duplicated, not even by the many scientists in Washington who’d tried so hard to make another Ian.
    Owen remembered seeing Ian a decade ago, back when Ian had been a kid barely into his twenties. So handsome, a heartbreaker with brass balls. He’d been a scammer then, like he was now. But in the years that passed, Ian had grown in strength and beauty. His looks made him stand out no matter where he went. And that new haircut had nearly brought Owen to his knees.
    With long black hair and bright blue eyes, a square jaw, high cheekbones, and long lashes, Ian had appeared like an Adonis. But cutting that hair short gave him a rakish appearance, showcasing the naughty side of the charmer who could get anyone to do anything he asked. Just about.
    Jack, fortunately, saw through Ian’s bullshit and had often saved the slighter man from himself. The shortest male member of the PowerUp! team, as well as the leanest, Ian didn’t have the same athletic build as his teammates. Instead, he had a quick mind, nimble fingers, and the muscle tone of a man used to running for his life.
    Owen watched critically as Ian waited impatiently by the driver’s side door. “You need to eat more.”
    Ian rolled his eyes. “So feed me. Now can I have the keys or what?”
    Owen hit a button on the key remote to unlock the doors. He opened the passenger door and tossed the keys to Ian. After seating himself next to the man who stirred his blood and challenged him in ways no one had in a long time, Owen settled back and watched Ian’s competent hands control the vehicle. The top hummed as it went down, and Ian maneuvered the car like a professional race-car driver.
    “We’re not going to my office this time. I’m working straight from home now.” Not that he had to give Ian directions. The arrogant thief had already broken into the place at least three times that Owen knew of.
    Soon enough they sped down the road toward Owen’s private retreat, which overlooked the Cascade Mountains and had plenty of solitude. It was a short drive but long enough to give Owen time to control his impulses and figure out a few very important things.
    Like how to finally get Ian in his bed, in his home, and in his life. Permanently.
    And how to catch a killer before he murdered not only Owen but Heather as well, extinguishing the Stallbridges from the earth, forever.

Chapter Two
    Owen let out a breath when they pulled into the drive.
    “Man. This car is just fabulous .”
    Ian ran his long-fingered hands over the red-leather-covered wheel and dash. An artist’s hands. A thief’s hands.
    “Yes. Nice driving.” Competent, just a tiny bit reckless. Owen wondered what Ian would think if he knew how much he gave away about himself with the littlest details.
    A huge risk taker would drive the Porsche like a bat out of hell. Ian drove over the speed limit, but not so that he lost control. He seemed to love the wind through his hair