License to Thrill Read Online Free Page B

Theresa joked as Jo scribbled the info on her hand.
    The screen went black, sending Caylin into a total adrenaline rush. Now that she knew the scoop, she felt light-headed enough to float straight through the limo’s sunroof. “This is it,” she whispered, her eyes shining with joy as she gazed at her two partners—and friends—for life. “It’s finally happening. We’re real Spy Girls now!”

THREE
    â€œWhoa, this is heaven!” Jo exclaimed as she entered the busy lobby of the Ritz. Her jaw dropped as she took in the thick Turkish carpets, the ornate chandeliers, the bouquets of flowers that seemed to be everywhere.
    Caylin twirled around gleefully. “I’ll say.”
    â€œIt sure beats Motel Six,” joked Theresa, smirking. “Okay, so what’s the name we’re supposed to check in under?”
    â€œI wrote it on my hand—hold on,” Jo said, dropping her luggage and bringing her palm to her face. “It’s—oh no! My suitcase handle must have rubbed it off. I can’t read what it says.”
    Caylin moaned. “I remember the Stevens part, but that’s it. Now what are we supposed to do?”
    â€œDon’t panic,” Theresa said calmly. “Let’s just think for a second. Was it Clarissa?”
    â€œThe name definitely started with a C . And I think it had something to do with Prince Charles.” Caylin squinted. “What’s his wife’s name? Carlotta?”
    â€œCamilla!” Jo said triumphantly.
    â€œYou rock,” Theresa cheered as she followed Jo to the front desk. “Let’s hope our room does as well.”
    While Jo told the front desk clerk their alias, Theresa held her breath and crossed her fingers behind her back for good luck.
    It must have worked because they were all given card keys with no hassles despite the fact that they had no IDs whatsoever bearing the name of Camilla Stevens. Uncle Sam obviously has our back, Theresa thought thankfully, her heart rate slowing down to normal.
    As the porter was called to fetch their bags Theresa gazed around the opulent lobby. She felt as if she were in one bigger-than-life dream. Here she was in London at the swankiest hotel in town, representing the U.S. government! It seemed too good to be true. So good that she floated all the way to the elevator, nearly ramming into a woman who was entering at the same time.
    â€œOops, sorry,” she said, giving the lady an apologetic grin.
    The woman gave her a cold smile and a brisk nod. Something in her eyes sent shivers up Theresa’s spine. The whole way up to the fourteenth floor the woman seemed to be watching her every move. Theresa didn’t like that one bit. She took note of the woman’s features just in case. Early thirties. Tall and thin. Short, dark hair. Porcelain skin. Full lips—probably collagen enhanced. Looked like she could have played the vixen on Pretty Little Liars or something.
    The woman’s cold, dead stare was giving Theresa the definite creeps. How can I wipe that look off her face? she wondered, suddenly getting an idea. Still holding her gaze, Theresa casually dropped her not-so-light backpack right on the woman’s foot. Theresa’s blood chilled instantly—the woman’s gaze was unwavering and unchanged. She didn’t blink; she didn’t move. After a few unbearable seconds Theresa shamefacedly picked up her backpack and stared straight ahead. This woman was definitely bad news.
    As they reached the fourteenth floor the woman gave them one last searching gaze as they exited the elevator. After the doors closed, Theresa waved Jo and Caylin back for a miniconference while the porter continued on toward 1423. “Did you guys notice that short-haired chick?” she whispered. “She was totally evil.”
    â€œWell, I did like her hair,” Jo said lightly. “I wish I could pull off the short-hair look. It’s so