License to Thrill by Lori Wilde Read Free Book Online Page A

being kidnapped by the King of Rock and Roll.

CHAPTER 4
    W here to now?”
    Charlee slid a glance over at Mason, amazed he’d asked her opinion.
    He sat ramrod-straight, his seat belt snugly fastened around his trim waist, his eyes locked on the unruly Vegas Strip traffic. After his lady and gentleman crack about the way she climbed into her car, she’d pegged him as a control freak who preferred his women submissive and relegated to a pedestal.
    She grinned to herself, amused at how uptight he was. She’d bet anything he rolled his toothpaste tube up from the bottom instead of squeezing it in the middle like she did. No, wait. He was probably so regimented he used a toothpaste dispenser and carefully measured out each drop. She’d wager a month’s pay that he labeled his possessions, hated for the food on his plate to touch, and always counted his change to make sure he’d gotten back the correct amount.
    Good thing they wouldn’t be together long. She would drive him crazy with the way she stuffed underwear in the same drawer with socks, ate standing over the kitchen sink, and tossed her change in the bottom of her purse without ever looking at it.
    “You’re asking my opinion?”
    “You are the private investigator.”
    “Somehow I got the impression you have a hard time letting other people take charge.”
    His smile was forced. “Not when the other person has more information. Vegas is your home turf. You’re more than welcome to step up to the plate.”
    “Thank you. I will. We’re going to see someone who might have an idea where our grandparents are,” she said.
    “Oh?” Mason leaned closer and she caught a whiff of his sandalwood soap. She wondered if he tasted as clean as he smelled. “Who?”
    Charlee’s mistrustful nature had her biting her bottom lip and hesitating before revealing any more information than absolutely necessary. After all, what did she know about the guy other than the fact he dazzled her like dynamite and kicked-ass at tae kwon do?
    In and of itself, that fact was suspicious. How many spoiled, rich pretty boys possessed the discipline for advanced martial arts?
    Once she thought about it, Charlee realized everything had been hunky-dory in her life until he’d shown up. Now Maybelline was missing, her place had been ransacked, and someone had shot at them.
    What if he had lied about his identity? He could be anyone. A hit man or an undercover cop or even, heaven forbid, an IRS agent. Plenty of people would gladly line up to take pot shots at IRS agents.
    “Charlee?” he prodded, more irritating than a pebble in her boot. “Who are we going to see?”
    Don’t tell him a damned thing.
    She pretended to concentrate on navigating the Corvette around a slow-moving eighteen-wheeler, but he didn’t buy her stall tactics.
    “If the matter concerns my grandfather, I have a right to know.”
    As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t disagree. After all, she had no real reason to believe Mason was anything other than what he claimed. Charlee reluctantly relented.
    “We’re going to see my father.”
    “From the tightness in your voice I’m guessing you two don’t get along so well.”
    “You might say that.” Charlee gripped the steering wheel far tighter than necessary. “Let’s just hope my old man isn’t involved in what’s going on between our grandparents.”
    “Care to elaborate?”
    Charlee took a deep breath. “No.”
    To her surprise, he nodded and said, “Fair enough.”
    Mason certainly didn’t seem like the sort of guy to let things pass easily and Charlee shot him a pensive glance. Maybe something in her body language warned him off.
    Whenever Elwood popped into her brain, she couldn’t help tensing up. She understood even without the help of a Freudian psychologist that the roots of her prejudice against wealthy, long-legged, matinee-idol-smiling, beard-stubble-sporting men started with her father.
    Mason’s decision not to pressure her had a