Free License to Thrill by Lori Wilde Page A

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 didn’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.”
    “You really have a problem relinquishing control, you know that?”
    “Me? You’re saying
I’m
a control freak?” Incensed, Mason splayed a palm over his chest.
    Easy, you know she’s just gigging you because she’s mad at herself.
    “Do they drink tea in China?” She jerked her chin up, the look in her eyes challenging him.
    “I’m the control freak? You’re the one who refused to move your car simply because you didn’t want to take my advice.” Okay, so he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about the damned car.
    “That’s sooo not the reason I didn’t move the ‘Vette. And just look at you.” She waved a hand at him. “Your clothes are perfectly pressed. Not a hair out of place. Your friggin’ shoes are even shined. Only a control freak is that put together at six o’clock in the morning.”
    “Or someone who happens to take pride in the impression he creates.”
    “Yeah, the impression of a control freak.”
    A plane took off overhead, drowning out his reply, which was probably a good thing. The woman could try the pope’s patience.
    “You can’t even let the wallet go, can you?” he heard her say after the plane had cleared the airport. “Gotta run to the police.”
    “My driver’s license is in there. And my credit cards. My triple A card. Not to mention eight hundred dollars in cash.”
    “It’s gone, Mason. The cops won’t be able to get it back for you. Be realistic. But you can’t let anything go, can