License to Thrill Page 6

  Girlfriend? What in the hell prompted that outlandish concept?

  Because she’s the girl of the dreams you never even dared to dream. She’s wild and free and full of spirit. And she would scare the living hell out of your family.

  He shook his head. Blame his crazy meandering thoughts on his poor sleep-deprived brain. He was officially losing his marbles.

  Gramps, you owe me big time.

  Charlee pranced through the security checkpoint, but Mason set off the buzzer. The attendant motioned him aside for a wanding. They required him to empty his pockets and remove his shoes before they were satisfied he wasn’t planning on blowing the place to kingdom come.

  He hurried through the terminal. His impatience escalating when two thick-necked guys in black sunshades bumped into him. If he hadn’t been so intent on locating Charlee, Mason might have paid more heed to the duo, but because he was in a hurry, he blew off their rudeness. By the time he caught up with her, she was deep in conversation with a gate agent.

  He walked over and touched her shoulder. When she turned away from the gate agent, he was startled to see her normally golden skin had gone pale. The look on her face sliced a chill straight through his bones. He felt confused, angry with whomever or whatever had created her obvious distress. He fisted his hands, ready to beat someone to a pulp on her behalf.

  “Charlee? What’s wrong?”

  She quickly gained control over her emotions, smoothing out her forehead and pressing her lips firmly together.

  “We’re in luck. The same gate agent is still on duty. He remembers Maybelline and Nolan. They left with some guy just before the plane arrived.”

  “What guy?”

  Charlee didn’t meet his gaze and he realized instantly she was keeping something from him.

  “Charlee?” he prodded.

  “I dunno, but the gate agent said he watched all three of them head over to the rental car area.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Is that everything?”

  She hesitated.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  She studied the scuffed toe of her boots, jammed her fingertips into her front pockets. “Our grandparents were arguing with the guy. Like they were upset and didn’t want to leave with him. Actually the gate agent even offered to call security, but your grandfather told him everything was all right.”

  “Does he remember what the guy looked like?”

  Charlee took a deep breath. “Yeah. He was wearing a white, rhinestone-encrusted jumpsuit.”

  “That’s certainly memorable. Sounds like Elvis Presley.”

  “Or an Elvis impersonator.”

  Their eyes met and he knew what she was going to say before the word left her mouth.

  “Elwood.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Foreboding slithered through Charlee’s insides like a snake shedding its skin. Why would Maybelline and Nolan run off with Elwood? She had a bad feeling about the whole deal. Mason’s grandfather had arrived in Vegas with a large sum of money in his pocket and large sums of money attracted Elwood like flies to cow patties.

  Her father had been jailed for many penny-ante schemes from peddling weed to hoodwinking tourists with three-card monte to blackmailing a high-profile exlover. However, none of his crimes had merited a felony charge. Maybelline had washed her hands of him years ago, but Charlee couldn’t admit defeat when it came to her father no matter how many times he disappointed her.

  Maybelline rarely spoke to her only child. Why would she leave the airport with him when she’d planned on catching a flight to L.A.?

  Unless…

  Charlee started to gnaw on her thumbnail and realized Mason was studying her. Shamefaced, she quickly tucked her hand behind her back.

  “Let’s go talk to the rental car people,” she said in a decisive tone and stalked toward the counter.

  The woman behind the desk didn’t glance up from her tabloid magazine. Charlee splayed her palms against the black Formica countertop and cleared her throat.

  “Excuse me.”

  Unhappy at being dragged from her celebrity gossip, the woman glared at her. “Yeah?”

  “A middle-aged Elvis impersonator along with an older couple rented a car from you earlier this morning. I’d like to know where they were headed, please.”

  The woman frowned. “I can’t release that kind of information.”

  “I’m a private detective,” Charlee said in her most professional tone and flashed the woman her ID. “And I’m investigating a possible crime. If you could do a little finger-tapping on your computer keyboard I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Sorry, no can do.”

  “It’s a matter of life and death. I must know where they’re headed.”

  “You’re not the police. I don’t have to tell you anything.” She continued reading her gossip rag.

  Charlee gritted her teeth and contemplated shoving Ms. Congeniality out of the way and commandeering her keyboard, but before she had time to discard the idea as a not particularly viable one, Mason placed one finger on the woman’s magazine and slowly pushed it downward so she was forced to look him in the eyes.

  “Hi there.” He shot the woman a grin so dazzling even an ardent man hater could not have resisted him: and clearly she was no man hater.

  “Oh, my!” the woman gasped breathlessly as if one of the movie stars from her magazine had sprung to life right in front of her. “Where did you come from?”

  Mason leaned nonchalantly closer and studied the name tag situated just above the woman’s breast. “Lila,” he crooned. “What a lovely name.”

  “Why thank you,” the woman simpered and batted her eyelashes. “I was named after my great-grandmother.”

  “How do you do.” He offered his hand.

  “I’m doing very well now that you’re here.” She angled a sultry glance at him and pumped his hand as vigorously as if she were pulling the handle on a slot machine.

  Charlee snorted. Enough with the friggin’ foreplay, Gentry, get to the point.

  “Listen, Lila, I’m hoping you can do me and my”—Mason glanced over his shoulder at Charlee—“sister here a favor.”

  Sister? Charlee burned a hole through him with her stare. What was the big idea telling Ms. Congeniality she was his sister?

  “She’s your sister?” Lila asked.

  Mason lowered his voice. “I know. Her manners are so atrocious you’d never suspect we were raised by the same parents.”

  “No indeed,” Lila whispered back as if Charlee weren’t standing right in front of her.

  Mason murmured something else that Charlee couldn’t quite hear. Lila giggled girlishly and then typed into the computer. Let some rich handsome guy smile at her and ole Lila folded like a house of cards.

  “The party you’re interested in rented a red and white Chevrolet camper. License number LYG-123. It’s supposed to be returned to the Tucson office on Monday.”

  Monday? Why so much time? It didn’t take but maybe eight or nine hours to drive to Tucson. Why keep the rental until Monday? Charlee nibbled on her bottom lip and tried to figure out what stunt her father was pulling.

  “Thank you so much, Lila.” Mason gazed deeply into the clerk’s eyes and flashed her his dimples, looking like some swoonily gorgeous soap opera star. “You’ve been an immeasurable help.”

  “Hang on a minute.” Lila was practically panting. She tore off a scrap of paper from the yellow legal pad on her desk, jotted something on it, and slipped the note into Mason’s hand. “Call me.” She winked.

  Charlee rolled her eyes, wagged her head, and mocked the awestruck clerk by silently mouthing, “Call me.”

  See. Precisely why she didn’t trust wealthy, long-legged, brown-eyed, handsome men any farther than she could toss ‘em. They would do anything to get their way. Completely shameless, the lot of them.

  “Bye.” He wriggled his fingers at Lila, and took Charlee by the elbow. “Let’s go, sis.”

  “W
hat’s up, Slick?” Charlee untangled herself from him the minute they were out of earshot. “The gossip rag queen gave you her phone number?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

  “You gonna call her?”

  Mason frowned and tossed the woman’s number in a nearby trash can. “Of course not.”

  Charlee shook her head. “Cruel bastard. You trifled with that woman’s affections.”

  “All for a good cause.”

  “And by the way, what was that remark about my being your sister?”

  “Hey, it got us what we needed.” He guided her through the concourse, which had grown more crowded since they’d first arrived. “Do you think she would have opened up to me if she thought you were my girlfriend?”

  “I’m not your girlfriend.”

  “I know that and you know that, but Lila didn’t know that.”

  “You’re such a liar.”

  “Sounds like sour grapes to me.”

  “What are you talking about? Sour grapes over what? That Lila was drooling on you? Puh-leeze, I could care less.”

  “You’re just testy because my method worked and yours didn’t. You can catch more flies with honey, sweetheart. Remember that.”

  “Hmmph,” Charlee mumbled under her breath while at the same time her pulse revved to realize he’d inadvertently called her sweetheart. Oh, this was completely disgusting. How could she let herself get all flustered and fluttery over some pretty boy?

  Perturbed at her reaction, she searched for something rude to say. “Honey my ass. You snagged her with the matinee-idol smile and your sultry brown-eyed stare.”

  “Pardon?” He lowered his head to hers, those very eyes in question twinkling with a mischievous light. “I didn’t quite catch that. Did you just compliment me?”

  “Ahem. I said, the red and white camper is only a few hours ahead of us. If we pick up the pace, maybe we can overtake them before they reach Tucson.”

  “That’s what I thought you said.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “Really, Charlee, you’ve got to learn to express your opinion more often,” he teased.

  “Leave the sarcasm to me, Slick. It doesn’t suit you. Stick with your forte.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Conniving women.”

  “Ah, so that’s my forte. I always wondered what it was.” He ran a hand over his beard stubble. The soft, rasping sound knotted her stomach.

  “Smart aleck.”

  “So tell me, Charlee, if tempting women is my forte, how come my charms don’t work on you?”

  What in the hell was wrong with him? Mason berated himself. He didn’t flirt. He wasn’t a hound dog. He respected women. Considered them his equal in every way. He was about to become engaged. Daphne trusted him and Mason honored that trust. He would not allow something as insignificant as sexual magnetism orchestrate his downfall. Not when he was so close to achieving everything he’d ever wanted.

  Maybe the impending engagement was the problem. Maybe, somewhere deep down in his subconscious, since he was out of town, away from his normal surroundings, he was simply letting himself go one last time before settling down.

  You’re just flirting with Charlee, not seducing her. What’s the harm? You flirted with the rental-car woman and that doesn’t bother you.

  Charming the rental-car clerk was business. He had needed information. He turned on the charisma. He’d gotten what he wanted from Lila.

  And what about Charlee?

  What did he want from her?

  Stunned, Mason paused. Nothing. He wanted nothing from her. He only wanted to find his grandfather, bring him back home, and get on with his life. If things went according to plan, bright and early Monday morning, he’d walk into his father’s office to close the Birkweilder account, successfully wresting his deal back from Hunter.

  At the thought of the look on his brother’s face when he showed up to overturn his competitive coup, Mason smiled.

  And the sooner he and Charlee got on the road after that camper, the better. Even if it meant throwing himself into the nerve-wracking crucible of Charlee’s hot rod Corvette and enduring her gawd-awful driving for the next several hours. Whatever it took to achieve his goal, he would do it.

  What about the Bentley?

  What indeed? The idea of leaving his baby in the airport parking garage gave him hives. He would insist Charlee follow him to the Bellagio to drop off the Bentley before they headed for Tucson.

  He turned to her, but she’d already sprinted ahead of him, running through the automatic doors to the passenger loading zone where she’d parked.

  “It’s gone!” she trilled and threw her arms in the air. “They towed my Corvette. Dammit!”

  Mason opened his mouth to murmur a smug, “I told you so,” but before he could get the sentence out, she whirled around and shook a finger under his nose.

  “Not a word. Don’t you dare say a word.”

  He clamped his lips together.

  “And stop smirking. I know a smirk when I see one.”

  Mason shrugged and tried hard to stop smirking.

  “Crap.” She paced and smacked a palm repeatedly against her forehead. “Crap, crap, crap. I don’t have the money to get it out of the police impound and both my thirty-eight and my cell phone were locked inside the glove box.”

  She looked so distraught that his temptation to gloat disappeared. He had the strangest desire to haul her into his arms, hold her close, and promise her that everything would be all right. He had no explanation for the urge. She wasn’t the damsel in distress type and he knew she’d sooner poke him in the ribs with her elbow as thank him for his attempt to comfort her, so he sensibly kept his hands to himself.

  “Calm down,” he said. “I’ll pay to get your car out of the impound.”

  “No. I can’t let you do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve had bad luck when it comes to borrowing money from men. It never works out. When you owe men money, they have certain expectations.”

  “Expectations?” He arched an eyebrow.

  “Oh, come on, don’t force me to spell it out for you.”

  Startled, he met her gaze. “Do you mean sexual favors?”

  “Well, duh.”

  “There have been men in your life who have given you money and then expected sexual favors in return?”

  The idea of someone treating her like a disposable sex object caused a ball of anger to clog his throat.

  “I said men expected it from me, not that I did it. Jeeze, what do you think I am?”

  “I didn’t mean…er…that’s not what I meant to suggest.”

  Oh, great. Way to stick your foot in your mouth, Gentry. You basically called her a prostitute.

  “So you can understand my reluctance to accept your offer of financial assistance.”

  “Charlee, I am not other men. Besides, this is an emergency. We need to get on the road as quickly as possible if we have any hope of overtaking the camper before it reaches Tucson. They’ve got several hours on us.”

  Hesitating, she pursed her lips and looked as if taking his money would literally kill her. “Okay. But the minute we find Maybelline, I’ll get the money from her and pay you back.”

  “That’ll be fine.”

  He reached in his jacket pocket for his wallet. Hmm. He almost always placed his wallet in his front left pocket. Maybe in the haze of hurrying to the airport he’d put it in the right pocket instead.

  He patted the other side.

  Nothing.

  A sickening feeling sank to the bottom of his belly. He checked the back pockets of his trousers.

  Not there.

  No wallet. No credentials. No money. No credit cards.

  Grinding his teeth, he recalled the two thick-necked men in black sunshades who’d bumped him as he’d come out of the security checkpoint.

  Panic surged through him. It was an overblown corollary that di
dn’t match the circumstances. He could cancel the credit cards and wire home for money. He could call the police and report the theft. No need for alarm.

  Except time was critical if he wanted to catch up with his grandfather.

  And there was the niggling little voice in the back of his mind. The same voice that had been whispering negative messages to him ever since he was a kid trying to compete with Hunter for their parents’ attention.

  If you’re not a Gentry, who are you?

  Without his ID, he wasn’t a Gentry. Without his driver’s license he couldn’t even drive his Bentley.

  How was it Charlee had so eloquently expressed herself? Crap, crap, crap.

  Somehow crap just didn’t seem strong enough.

  “Something the matter?” Charlee asked.

  “My wallet,” he said. “It’s been stolen.”

  “Give me your car keys.” Charlee held out her palm.

  “What?” Mason stared at her as if she’d suggested sacrificing his firstborn child to Pele the volcano goddess. What in the devil was she yapping about?

  “Give me your keys,” she repeated and curled her fingers in a “gimme” gesture he would have found cute if he hadn’t been so upset. “We’ LI have to take the Bentley.”

  “No.”

  “Look, we don’t have a choice. My ‘Vette’s been towed.”

  “It was towed because you recklessly disregarded the passenger loading zone sign and, I might add, my advice not to park there.”

  “Oh, here we go.” Charlee sank her hands on her hips. “Mr. Uptight-by-the-Rules is giving me a lecture. Go ahead, let me have it, get it out of your system.”

  She was looking to pick a fight, but he refused to give her one. This wasn’t the time or the place. “Chastising you isn’t part of my agenda. I’m more concerned about the loss of my wallet. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to make a phone call to the authorities.”

  “Well, while you’re calling the cops, I’m going after our grandparents before Elwood does something truly stupid. Hand over your car keys and I’ll be on my way.’”

  “You’re out of your ever-loving mind if you think I’m letting you take off across the desert alone in my Bentley.”