She leaned forward, peering at the trio. The nerves in her stomach stopped jumping for a few seconds as she stared in shock. “Wow. Mr. Rudolph sure looks different without his tie.”

Or maybe it was the fact that the pervy old guy was shirtless under his plush red jacket. Wasn’t he in his seventies? Now, that wasn’t a pretty sight. Afraid to look at it too long, in case it rendered her blind, Hailey glanced at the rest of the crowd. Nobody else seemed surprised.

“Thank you, everyone,” he said, “for joining the Rudolph-department-store annual holiday costume party. As you can see, my favorite character is Santa Claus. Appropriate since I’m the man giving out the gifts tonight.”

Fingernails digging into the soft flesh of her palms, Hailey puffed out a breath, trying to diffuse the nerves that’d suddenly clamped onto her intestines.

This was it. The big announcement.

She felt like throwing up.

“This year, instead of simply awarding spring women’s-line contracts, I’ve decided to make things fun. I’ve chosen two favorite designers in each department. Women’s wear, shoes and lingerie. Those designers will compete through the holiday season for the top spot.”

Hailey’s stomach fell. Competing? That didn’t sound good. She wasn’t the only one who thought so, either, if the muttering and hisses circling the room were anything to go by.

She gave Jared a puzzled look, trying to shrug off the sudden despair that gripped her. The contracts weren’t being awarded tonight? But she needed to know. Without that contract, she was going to lose her business.

Jared ignored her stare, tilting his head pointedly to get her to pay attention.

She dragged her gaze to the stage with a frown. Instead of looking abashed, the old man seemed delighted by the angry buzz. His grin shifted from wicked to a visual cackle as he held up one hand for silence.

It took all of three seconds for him to be obeyed.

“So without further ado, here are the finalists in women’s wear,” he announced. A model featuring an outfit from each line crossed the stage behind him as he named the designer.

Hailey swallowed hard, trying to get past the tight worry in her throat. It wasn’t as if she’d irresponsibly put all of her hopes on this deal. It was more a matter of everything else falling apart until this deal was all that was left to hope for.

She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to appreciate the gorgeous shoes as Rudolph announced the designer finalists for footwear. But not even the studded black leather stilettos could distract her worry.

Then he got to lingerie.

She didn’t even listen to the names.

She just watched the models, her eyes locked with desperate hope on the curtain they entered from.

One strutted out in a wickedly sexual invitation in leather. It was the complete opposite of the Merry Widow’s style, a look that screamed sex. Hot, kinky sex.

Hailey frowned. It wasn’t her style, of course. But it was appealing. If you like hot, kinky sex.

Did she like hot, kinky sex? She’d never had the opportunity to find out. For a second, she wondered if the Grinch was into leather. Before she could imagine that, worry crowded the sexy thoughts right back out of her brain. She held her breath.

“And last but not least, Merry Widow Lingerie.” Echoing the announcement was a model in a white satin chemise trimmed in tiny pink rosebuds, a design Hailey had labeled Sweet Seduction.

Fireworks exploded in her head, all bright lights, loud booms and overwhelming excitement.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” she chanted, hopping up and down in her gorgeous booties. She spun around to grab Jared in a tight hug, then did another little dance. “That’s me. That’s me. I made it.”

She made it. She had a chance.

An hour later, she was still giddy. It wasn’t a contract, but it wasn’t a rejection, either. And she’d learned young to take what she could get.

“This is so cool.” Ever since Santa Rudolph’s announcement, people kept coming up to congratulate her. That part was great. What was even better, though, were the compliments about her designs, which were displayed all around the room.

She felt like a rock star.

“I’m excited for you, darling. I am sorry it’s not a definitive answer, though,” Jared said quietly, his face taking on a rare seriousness. “I know how bad you need this deal, and I’ve been pitching hard for you. But Rudy got this wild notion that a contest would bring in more publicity and make it more fun. He’ll decide before the New Year, though. He has to for marketing purposes.”

“What kind of publicity?” Big publicity? Good publicity? Could it net her some new clients, maybe a few features in the fashion rags? Hailey’s stomach danced again.

“Well...” Jared drew out, wrinkling his glittery nose. “I honestly don’t think he has a lot of publicity lined up. We were all under the impression that he was simply choosing a single designer for each line. But Friday he talked to some marketing guru who convinced him that it’d bring in great promotion if he made it a competition of some sort instead of a straight-up announcement.”

“Who makes the final decision?” she wondered.

Jared pulled another face and shrugged. Clearly he didn’t like not being in the know any more than she didn’t like not having a clue.

But before Hailey could ask more questions, they were joined by a dapper-looking guy dressed like a festive reindeer with his green-and-red-plaid bow tie.

“Congratulations, Ms. North. I’m Trent Lane, the photographer for Rudolph department stores. I was happy to see your designs in the running. I’ve taken test shots of each submission and yours is my favorite.”

“Really?”

“Really. It seems to epitomize romance. But sexy romance. The boudoir-photo kind, not the Hustler-spread kind.”

Hailey giggled, wondering if the leather getups were Hustler material.

“It’s my favorite, too,” Jared agreed. “I told you when I first saw the line. It’s perfect. Next season is all about nostalgia with overtones of passion. Bridal fresh but womanly confident.”

Hailey wrinkled her nose, wondering if he realized he’d just described her gorgeous designs in the same terms used for feminine-hygiene products.

“Baby’s breath and air ferns lining the runway. Satin backdrops. Maybe one of those long couch things, like Cleopatra would lounge on,” Trent mused, falling into what she immediately saw was a creative brainstorming habit between him and Jared.

“A chaise. Perfect,” Jared agreed. Tapping his chin, he added, “Maybe carried down the runway by four muscle-bound sex slaves?”

“That’s not romantic,” Trent dismissed. “You know Rudy really wants to lead the trend this season. If you suggest sex slaves, he might seriously consider Cassia Carver’s mesh love sleeves for a part of the women’s-wear line.”

Hailey barely kept from shuddering. Avant-garde minis and maxis made up most of Cassia’s line, and while they were edgy and fun, they would hardly compliment Merry Widow’s lingerie. They would, she realized with a frown, go great with Milano’s leather.

Suddenly the simple contract she’d thought she’d have was now even more complicated. All of the choices were going to have to flow together into a single, cohesive spring debut.

“Even if Rudy wants mesh and love slaves, there’s no way marketing will go for it,” Jared dismissed. “They’d bury him in the horrible sales data from the last time mesh hit the runway.”

Oh, yay. A point in her favor. She just had to make sure she racked enough to win this baby. Hailey held her breath, willing herself to look invisible. Maybe if the two men forgot she was there, they’d spill some insider info that she could mop up and use.

“Well, Rudy wants Cherry Bella to model the entire spring line, and Merry Widow will look perfect on her.”

Hailey couldn’t contain her little eep of excitement.

Her designs? Perfect? Cherry Bella?

Oh, man. That shooting star was getting close enough that she could almost feel the heat.

“She’d look great in Merry Widow or Milano’s,” Trent agreed. “It’s really going to come down to whichever line Cherry wants to wear. She’ll be the final judge of all the lines, I’m guessing.”

“Rudy has to get her signed first. And so far, she’s not interested.”

Trent looked to the left. Jared and Hailey looked, too. Then he looked to the right. They obediently followed his gaze. Forgetting that she was supposed to be invisible, Hailey leaned in just as close as Jared did to listen.

“I hear Rudy’s pulling out all the stops. He’s crazy to get Cherry signed. He’s tried everything. Promised her the moon. So far, no go. He’s shifted all his promises to her agent now.” Trent gave them both a wide-eyed look, then nodded sagely, his reindeer ears bobbing in emphasis. “Whoever gets him Cherry Bella? They’re golden.”

Excitement ran so fast through Hailey’s body, she shivered with it. Her lingerie was perfect for Cherry. The statuesque redhead had started as a soulful torch singer, but lately had branched into modeling and a few minor acting gigs, as well. Merry Widow’s flowing, feminine designs would suit her as though they’d been custom made.

All Hailey had to do was cinch the deal.

She’d find Cherry’s agent, charm him or her into listening to a personal pitch on how perfect Merry Widow designs would look on the retro singer.

“Do the other designers know?” she wondered aloud. Seeing the guys’ arch expressions, she scrunched her nose and gave a shrug. What? They all knew she wasn’t really invisible. “Just wondering.”

“It’s pretty hush-hush since a lot of competitors are always big to get a jump on Rudolph’s spring debuts. So unless the other designers are chatting up Rudy’s staff, I doubt they have a clue.”

Jared’s snort of laughter was more sarcastic than amused.

“Which means no,” he explained at Hailey’s questioning look, a little of the sugary glitter flaking off his face as he sneered. “Your competitors are all well established, with top-of-the-line reps, darling. They, unlike you, have huge egos. None of them see the need to fraternize with the help. They talk to Rudy, or they don’t talk at all.”

She peered through the costumed crowd, looking for any of the lingerie-clad models circling the room. She sighed as one lithe blonde floated by in a Merry Widow nightie. Cotton flowed. Lace rippled. The pearl buttons down the front caught the light, even as the delicate fabric molded to the woman’s perfect body.

So romantic.

And so perfect for the Rudolph account, especially if he got Cherry as his spokesmodel.

She didn’t want to jinx it but the little voice in her head was already planning the victory-dance moves.

“I’m surprised Cherry’s agent isn’t all over this deal,” Hailey mused, wondering what they were holding out for. “A contract with Rudolph department stores would rocket her from national to international exposure, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jared agreed, looking like a dejected gingerbread boy with his furrowed brow. “We can’t figure out what the problem is. Rudy’d be tearing his hair out if he wasn’t already bald.”

“Best we can figure, it’s because the agency is one of those co-op places. The agents all work together on every client. Make decisions by consensus. We don’t even know which agent is at the party. Guy, gal, nobody’s got a clue,” Trent complained, looking like a very grumpy reindeer whose gossip rations were being withheld. “Like I said, whoever reels her in is going to be golden.”

Then a passing model dressed in a fishnet candy cane and spangles shaped like question marks caught his eye. He straightened his bow tie, gave Jared and Hailey an absent smile, then tilted his head. “Well, I think I’ll go talk up the models and see if any of them are repped by the same agency as Cherry.”

With that, and a leering sort of grin, he was gone.

“So what do you think? Do I have a shot?” Hailey asked as soon as he left. Her gaze flew around the room as if the infamous agent might have hung a neon sign around his or her neck, just for fun. If she could find the agent, she could pitch her own designs for Cherry. If she could get the agent enthused, she’d have an inside track. Maybe even a guaranteed deal.

Excitement bubbling, Hailey gave the room another searching look. Her gaze landed on Trent, who’d apparently given up on seducing the woman in mesh and was now talking to the sexy Grinch.

Her excitement took on a totally different edge at the sight of that Grinchy butt. The hood of the costume now pushed back, she could see his hair, so black it reflected the blue and white Christmas lights of the tree next to him, wave into the green fur of his collar.

Her nipples tingled against the tight satin layers of her bustier. Her thighs turned to mush, only the sheer red silk of her stockings holding them together.

Oh, yeah. He was definitely the hot, kinky, sexy type of guy.

All she had to do was look at him and she was more excited than she’d been with any of the lovers she’d ever had. Or even all of them, combined.

And all she was gazing at was the back of his head. That was better than being turned on by his furry back, wasn’t it?

Her breath a little on the shallow side, she sighed and wondered how great it’d be to strip that ugly fur off and see what kind of body was beneath the costume. Could it be as sexy as she was imagining? Long and lean, with strong thighs and washboard abs? Shoulders she could cling to as she rode him like a wild stallion?

She’d just flown a few miles closer to catching her shooting star. Didn’t she deserve a treat? Could she do it? Go talk to him? Ask his opinions on hot, kinky sex. Leather or lace. Roses or studs.

Her face, throat and chest all on fire now, either with lust or embarrassment, Hailey quickly drank the rest of her champagne and exchanged the glass with a passing waiter, hoping the bubbles would cool the fire blazing in her belly.

“Hailey, darling? Where’d you go? I’ve been filling you in on all of the Rudolph stores’ holiday plans and you haven’t said a word. What’s got you so distracted?”

Unwilling to admit the horrifying truth, that she was all hot and horny for a guy whom she’d only seen from the side and back, both of which were covered in puke-green fur, Hailey tore her gaze away and gave Jared an apologetic look.

“Nothing. Just, you know, wondering if that guy Trent’s talking to might be Cherry’s agent,” she improvised.

Almost on tiptoes to see around the crowd, Jared peered in the direction of the bar. Then he gave a shrug.

“No clue.” He looked again, this time giving a little hum of appreciation. His eyes were as wide as the buttons on the front of his gingerbread suit as he fanned one hand in front of his face. “I’ll be happy to go find out, though.”

She looked over again herself, wondering what had got his attention.

And almost fell to the floor, thanks to her weak knees.

Oh, baby.

The Grinch was gorgeous.

Her lust cells stood up and did a victory dance, vindicated in their attraction.

Her brain couldn’t argue.

Because the man was definitely lust-worthy.

Raven-black hair swept back from his forehead in soft waves, framing a face that would make Michelangelo weep. Sharp planes, strong lines and intense brows were balanced by full lips and wide eyes. Even though she couldn’t tell the color, she was sure those were the most gorgeous eyes she’d ever seen.

For the first time in forever, Hailey didn’t know what she wanted more.

Success? Or the man across the room.

“THIS IS THE most ridiculous idiocy I’ve ever seen,” Gage said decidedly, his glare spread equally across the ballroom at his cousin and at those butt-ugly green fur gloves he’d been forced to wear to this stupid party. “And what’s with the babysitting duty, Trent? You lose a bet yourself?”

“More like blackmail,” Trent muttered, watching yet another leggy blonde slink by with a regretful sigh. “Believe me, if I had a choice, I’d be long gone by now.”

“Yeah? Well, so would I.”

Once, a party like this would have appealed to Gage.

A bachelor’s playground, complete with booze, babes and enough variety in the guest list to stave off boredom.

The requirement to dress like your favorite holiday character, though? That was where it all tipped right on over to idiocy.

Yet, here he was. Smothered in freaking fur. Didn’t matter that it was almost December. San Francisco didn’t get cold enough to make this costume anything but miserable.

“How’d they con you into this?” Trent asked, craning his head to one side to watch a woman’s leather-clad ass as she worked the crowd. Gage vaguely recognized it. The leather, not the ass. It was one of the new Milano designs. Sexy Biker Babe, Devon had called it. Stupid, really. It looked hot, and definitely sent a strong sexual message. But who wore leather lingerie?

He gave an absent scan of the room, measuring the crowd, the reactions. There were enough people eyeing the leather with an appreciative look, as opposed to the ones peering in confusion at the mesh dresses some models were suffering in.

The most admiration seemed to be for the lacy getups floating through the room, though. The kind of lace you’d see on a forties pinup model, rather than the kind you’d see on a favorite internet porn site. Classy, he supposed it’d be called.

Noticing his attention, a tall brunette in a tasteful teddy and floor-length robe in white satin with fluffy trim gave him an inviting look before she stopped to exchange comments with a guest. The model moved on.

But Gage’s gaze was locked on the woman she’d spoken with.

Helloo.

Interest stirred for the first time since he’d heard of this party, Gage straightened.

She was blonde and cute, with an air of sweetness surrounding her like a holiday promise. The women he usually went for were dark, sultry and cynical. So what was it about her that made him want to sit up and beg?

Sure, she was sexy. But even though her costume was obviously lingerie inspired, she was still stepping pretty close to the sedate line. His type usually danced on the edge of the slutty line.

Yet he wanted nothing more than to cross the room, toss her over his shoulder and haul her off to someplace where he could lick her wild. Obviously this work overload and insane costume were taking a toll on his sanity.

“Gage?”

“Huh?” With one last look to assure himself that she wasn’t his type, he yanked his attention back to his cousin. “What?”

“I said, how’d you get stuck with this gig? I thought you were on vacation.”

“The old man played the emergency card, deeming getting the Rudolph contract to launch this new project top priority.” He wasn’t about to admit that he’d pulled the short end of a wishbone. A guy could only take so much humiliation at a time.

Used to his uncle’s games, Trent didn’t seem surprised.

“You do well enough on your own. And you hate working for your father. Why don’t you just resign?”

Good question.

“It’s not that easy. Nor is it something I want to talk about at a party full of people in their underwear and me in green fur.”

Or anywhere else, for that matter.

Not because he was so private.

But because he really didn’t know himself.

Money was a major factor. He’d seen plenty of successful people sink under the weight of running their own show.

Loyalty was another. He might hate the dictatorial way Marcus Milano ran things, but it was still a family company founded by his grandfather. As far back as he could remember, his father had claimed that Milano was run by Milanos. And Milanos were expected to make it a success. So much so that if one left, he was out. Out of the company, off the board and in the case of Gage’s uncle when he’d quit, disinherited and ostracized by the family.

And there was always the competition between him and Devon. Gage glared at the furry gloves again, damned if he’d lose to his brother in an even bigger way. When he went out on his own his start-up would be bigger, stronger, more successful than any and all of Devon’s put together.

None of which were thoughts he was particularly proud of.

The perfect distraction, the pretty blonde elf caught his eye again. Her eyes were huge, so big they dominated her face. A cross between adorable and arousing, with full lips and round cheekbones both a glossy red to match her stockings. Gage’s gaze dropped again to those legs. They were very excellent legs, long and lean. The sheer red hose and sexy little boots reminded him of a candy cane. An image echoed by the striped bustier hugging breasts so sweet they almost overflowed the tight fabric.

Gage rocked back on his heels, humming in appreciation.

She didn’t belong here.

Her costume might.

Her party partner might.

And the holiday theme might.

But she looked too sweet to be interested in something as lame as this event.

So sweet he wanted to invite her to a private party. One where he could taste her, just there where the satin met that soft flesh, and see if she was as tasty as she looked. Like a delicious Christmas treat.

“So, hey, I’ve got instructions from Devon I’ve gotta follow.” Trent’s uncomfortably muttered words pulled Gage’s attention away from the sexy blonde.

“You babysat, you probably took pictures to share on Facebook, and you verified that I stayed until the announcement.” Gage was still irritated that the best he’d been able to get out of this deal was to be in the competition for the contract. Despite his best pitch, Rudolph hadn’t been willing to set aside his initial favorites. “I’ve done my part. I’m done. Showing up in this stupid costume was the end of my assignment.”

“Yeah, sure. But, well, my instructions were to wait until after the announcement, and if Milano was in the running for the contract, to issue a new bet.” Trent looked a little ill at this point.

Gage laughed so loud, half the room glanced their way.

“Is that reindeer headgear pressing too tight into your brain? You really think I’m going to take another one of Devon’s bets?”

“C’mon. You know he’ll make my life hell if I don’t follow through,” Trent beseeched, looking so pitiful even his antlers drooped. “It’s not a big deal. I just have to mention that there’s a bet on the table, and give you this.”

This, Gage found out when Trent pulled it from the inner pocket of his Fruit-Stripe-gum-colored jacket, was an envelope. “That’s it?” Gage asked, gesturing with his gloves to the paper. The envelope was thick and black, and he figured his brother had been trying for ominous. The guy was a little too dramatic.

“This is it,” Trent agreed, holding the envelope closer. When Gage didn’t take it, he set it on the bar with a shrug. “My instructions were simply to make sure you knew there was a bet and to make it available if you were interested.”

“You did, and I’m not.”

“No skin off my nose,” Trent dismissed. Now that he was free, he was more focused on catching the eye of one of the mostly naked women than trying to change Gage’s mind. “I’ll let Devon know you met the terms of the bet. Oh, and can you tell him I did offer you the insider info? He promised to burn the pictures of... Well, it won’t matter what they are of after tonight.”

If Trent’s grin was anything to go by, the evidence Devon had used to blackmail him was probably wearing a wedding ring. And just for handing over an envelope, that evidence was getting burned?

Gage frowned at the heavy black paper. His brother wasn’t the type to let go of blackmail material that easily. Always resourceful, Devon figured good dirt was worth using at least twice.

So whatever plan Devon was playing, it was big.

“Hold on,” he said through his teeth, snatching up the envelope and ripping the heavy paper aside. He read the thick, purple papers quickly, shock seeping through his irritation. Then he read through them once more to be sure the itchy green fur hadn’t impaired his comprehension.

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