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The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas
No way in hell...
“He’s willing to let me go?”
Trent leaned closer to read the letter, then gave a shrug. “Is that what it says? He told me to assure you that he’s not bullshitting.” Seeing Gage’s doubtful look, Trent plastered on his most earnest expression. It went pretty well with the antlers and bow tie, actually. “He didn’t give me details, just told me what to say if you opened the letter.”
“What are you? His windup toy?”
“Funny you should mention toys. That’s actually what those pictures...” Grimacing, Trent shook his head. “So, you gonna take the bet?”
Gage considered his options.
Being the trusting soul he was, Marcus Milano hadn’t just used the threat that he’d cut them off if they ever left, he’d contractually tied his sons to Milano’s.
But if Gage got this contract, his brother would arrange for an entire year of freedom. With full pay. Gage could do whatever he wanted, without losing his safety net or walking out on family obligations. In exchange, he just had to seal this lingerie deal.
“You gonna fill me in on what it’ll take to win this Rudolph contract?”
“Why? You don’t have any pictures of me, three blondes and a battery-operated rabbit.”
All Gage did was shift. Just an inch. His shoulders back. His spine straighter. His chin lifted.
Then he arched one brow.
Trent’s grin wilted.
“Look, I don’t know anything. And what I do know is mostly rumor. But it’s company rumor, so I can’t tell. Your games with Devon aren’t worth my job.”
Unfazed, Gage nodded.
“I win this bet, I’ll be gone for a year,” he mused, taking a second to revel in that vision. A whole year, free of Milano. To travel without a tightly controlled, money-making itinerary. No board meetings, no R & D meetings, no personnel meetings. Just him and his own business.
He eyed his cousin. Yeah. He wanted that dream. Enough to take the bet and to bump the stakes.
“I’m gone a year,” he repeated, “I got two choices. Garage my ’Vette. Or let someone play car-sitter.”
“Your ’Vette?” Trent’s eyes glazed over as if he was having a personal moment. Then he shook his head. “No way.”
“Way.”
It didn’t take two seconds before his cousin grabbed his hand to seal the deal.
Everyone had a price.
Gage listened as Trent babbled on about a torch singer, a weird old man’s trend obsession and secret agents.
“So whoever gets this singer to wear their line is gonna get the deal?” he confirmed.
Trent nodded. “If you get Cherry Bella to wear your lingerie line, you nail the contract.”
And win the bet.
“And you’re saying her agent is here, at the party, scoping it out to decide if any of the designs are worthy?”
“That’s what I hear.”
Gage’s gaze shifted across the room again to the blonde.
There was only one person here who didn’t belong.
One very sexy, very tasty-looking person who seemed out of place among the eccentric designers and the narcissistic models.
If he had to guess who the agent was, and apparently he did, he’d pick her.
And now that he’d picked her, he just had to charm her into choosing Milano for her client.
“Not a problem,” he decided.
This was going to be quite the treat.
Beat his brother.
Win a year’s freedom.
And make some time with a very sexy blonde.
Looked as if this party wasn’t quite as idiotic as he’d thought.
* * *
HAILEY GULPED.
He was coming her way.
She’d lost count of how many glasses of champagne she’d had. Enough to make her head spin. But the tingling swirls going on right now had nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with the Grinch.
The oh-so-deliciously-sexy Grinch.
“Trent looks like someone just gave him the keys to a houseful of horny women. I’m going to talk to him,” Jared decided, clearly oblivious to Hailey’s tingles, swirls or even her overheated cheeks. “I’ll bet he figured out who the agent is.”
“Go, go,” Hailey encouraged with a little wave of her hand. She wasn’t really shooing him away, so much as making room for the Grinch.
“Oh, baby,” she sighed as he stopped next to her. He was even yummier up close and personal. A faint shadow darkened his chin, making her wonder if he was one of those guys blessed with a luxurious pelt of chest hair. She’d always wanted to get close enough to a guy like that so she could bury her face in the silky warmth and snuggle.
Her fingers itched to tug the zipper of his costume down and see for herself.
“Hello.” The greeting was accompanied by a smile that, for all its charm, edged just this side of wicked.
His eyes were dark, so dark they seemed black in the party lights, with thick lashes and slashing brows. And they were staring at her with an intensity that made her want to check herself to make sure nothing had fallen out.
“Hi,” she said, giving him a bright smile. At a delicate five-one, which was why the elf costume had been so inspired, she had to tilt her head back a little to see his face. Bells jingled. At first she wondered if that was a sign from Cupid. Then she remembered that it was Christmas, not Valentine’s. And that she was wearing bells on her hat.
“I’m Gage,” he murmured, taking her hand.
“Hailey,” she said on a sigh as her fingers were engulfed by his. He was warm. Strong and gentle at the same time, and his skin felt so good she didn’t want to pull away.
Her usual nerves at meeting a gorgeous, sexy man were nowhere to be found. Probably doing the backstroke through a river of champagne. But she wasn’t drunk enough to do anything stupid, like unzip his costume with her lips right here in the middle of the ballroom.
After all, she didn’t want hair between her teeth.
“What do you think of the party?” he asked, not taking those intense eyes off her as he tilted his head to indicate the room. It was as if he were looking past her cheerful smile and holiday bells into her soul, where he could peek at all of the secrets she hid there. Like her dreams. Her darkest, sexiest fantasies. And every single one of her fears.
That was both sexy as hell and the scariest thing she’d ever imagined.
“The party’s great,” she said, nerves starting to poke through the champagne bubbles. “I thought it was a fun theme, coming as your favorite holiday character. At least I did until I saw the guy dressed as a pair of Christmas balls waving his candy cane around.”
The words echoed in Hailey’s head as she realized what she’d said. Eyes wide with horror, she slapped her hand over her mouth. Not that she could take the words back, but maybe it’d help slow down the next stupid thing she tried to blurt out.
Gorgeous Gage the Grinch just laughed, though. A deep, full-bodied sound that eased her fear and made her grin right back. His gaze changed, softened, with his amusement. He was still sexy as all get-out, but now he seemed real. Not quite so much like a sexual fantasy sent to rip away all her inhibitions. More like an intriguingly attractive man who made her want to toss them away on her own.
“I guess I don’t have to ask if you’ve been entertained by the various displays here this evening.”
A movement across the room caught her eye. Hailey shifted her gaze, noting Jared, flanked by Trent and Mr. Rudolph, heading toward the door. He looked frantic, doing a subtle wave of his hand behind his boss’s back and jerking his head around. Either he was trying to give her a message, or he was being hauled off against his will.
She tilted her head, trying to figure out what he was saying. Then she realized he was pointing at Gage and mouthing something. She gave a helpless shrug, totally clueless. His disgusted sigh came across loud and clear, though, then he held his hand to his ear, thumb and pinkie outstretched.
Call him.
Then, just as he was swept out the door by a jolly old man, he jabbed his fingers toward Trent.
“Looking for that pair of Christmas balls?” Gage teased.
“Oh, sorry,” she said with an abashed grimace. “It’s just so distracting here. Like a circus, but instead of performing animals, it’s a bizarre fashion statement, all wrapped in holiday tinsel.”
“And you’re not into bizarre?”
Hailey arched her brow. Why did that sound as if he’d just passed judgment and she’d somehow failed?
“Should I be?”
“Hardly. Bizarre generally means weird and confusing. I’m not a fan of confusion.”
“And the holidays?” she asked, gesturing to his costume. “Are they high on your list, or is your heart three sizes too small?”
He opened his mouth, then shook his head and shut it with a grin. “I’ll skip over any size comparisons, if you don’t mind.”
Delighted at his sense of humor, Hailey laughed.
“How about we leave size issues to my imagination and skip right to the holiday question,” she said with an impish smile.
“Just as long as you have a good imagination.”
“It’s amazing.”
“A lot of dreams?”
“Big ones,” she assured him. “Huge, even.”
He gave an appreciative grin, then at her arch look, it faded to a deep, considering stare before he shifted his gaze to the decorated trees and holiday props around the room.
“I don’t have a problem with the holidays, per se,” he admitted. The way he said it, slow and careful, as if he were measuring each word, told her that he was a man who valued honesty. He might dance around the truth. He might refuse to answer. But whatever he did say, he expected to be held to it.
That kind of integrity was even sexier than his gorgeous smile. Maybe not sexier than his body, but she couldn’t say for sure since it was still covered in lumpy green fur.
“But there are parts you’re not crazy about,” she guessed, trying to stay on topic and quit undressing him with her mind. Especially now that her imagination was using the word huge in all its naked images.
“Sure. But you have to take the bad to get the good, right?”
No. She wanted to shake her head. The bad might show up from time to time, but the whole point was to avoid it if possible. To think positive and flow with the good.
But she wasn’t sure her Pollyanna-esque argument was going to get very far with a guy who favored the Grinch.
“So which good parts are your favorite?”
“The food,” he mused, gesturing to the Mrs. Claus walking by with a tray of sugar cookies. “Gotta love the desserts this time of year.”
A man after her own heart.
“But as good as those cookies look, I’ll bet you’re sweeter. Like the candy cane your outfit reminds me of. But instead of peppermint, you’d be cherry flavored.”
His words were low and flirtatious, his eyes dancing and hot as his gaze swept over her body as if he wanted to taste her and see.
Hailey swallowed hard. She knew she was totally out of her league. But she didn’t care.
It was as if she were drowning in desire, passion burning low in her belly with a heat she didn’t think anything could douse. She sure was ready to let him try, though.
Then his words washed over her like a lifeline, tugging at her attention.
What had he said?
Cherry?
A bright light went off in Hailey’s head, clearing away the foggy fingers of passion. Ooh, she smiled as excitement pushed back—but didn’t in any way extinguish—the hot desire in her belly.
Jared must have been trying to tell her that Gage was the agent. The man to persuade that her designs were perfect for his client.
Seriously?
Hailey almost laughed out loud.
First her designs were chosen as semifinalists.
Then the sexiest man she’d ever seen hit on her.
And now she had to do everything and anything in her power to make him crazy about her lingerie?
It was all Hailey could do to keep from clapping her hands together in delight.
This night rocked.
3
“SO YOU DON’T seem like a designer or model,” Hailey said, sliding a sideways glance at Gage. Not that all designers were, well, feminine. But the gorgeous man next to her was way too masculine, deliciously and temptingly masculine, for her to imagine him playing with ribbon and lace. Or even mesh and leather, unless they were exclusively in the bedroom.
His laugh echoed her assessment.
“Oh, no,” he assured her. “I’m not a model. And I’m definitely not a designer.”
And he didn’t work for Rudolph’s, or Jared would have told her. Which left, dum da dum, him being the agent.
Sweet. So sweet, she almost did her happy dance again.
“So you’re clearly a fan of the holidays,” he guessed, gesturing to her outfit. “And you look as if you’re enjoying the party. Anything in particular impress you tonight?”
He had.
But she didn’t think he was fishing for compliments.
Hailey tried to clear the champagne buzz from her head and pull together a strategy. She needed to pitch her heart out here. To make wow and impress him, not only with the designs themselves, but with her knowledge of the industry, of his client. And, because he was just so freaking yummy, maybe with herself.
It wasn’t as if she was offering up her body in exchange for a good word to his client. More like she was willing to worship his body while never directly mentioning the client.
That wasn’t stepping over any lines, was it?
“Hmm, there’s so much to choose from,” she mused as if her mind had retained anything other than impressions of him and the words Get Cherry. “I was really impressed with Rudolph’s clever contest. The designs were all so diverse, weren’t they?”
His eyes sharpened, as if she’d just triggered a switch. To what, she wasn’t sure. But since he stepped closer, she hoped she could figure it out so she could trigger it at will.
“And your favorite?” he asked, so close she could feel his breath on her forehead. So close she could feel the warmth of his body wrapping around her.
She wanted to lean in and breathe deep. To snuggle in and nuzzle her nose in the curve of his shoulder. The tiny part of Hailey’s brain that was still functioning at normal levels was trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with the rest of her. All she did was look at this guy and all of her senses were sucked into the lust cycle.
“Hailey?”
“Hmm?” She frowned, trying to remember what he’d asked.
“Do you have a favorite?”
“A favorite...?” Position? Flavor of body oil? Term for the male genitalia? “Oh, favorite designs?”
“Yeah. Are you drawn to any particular designer?”
There was that intense look again.
Hailey started to pitch her own line, then bit her lip. Maybe it was better to charm him first, before he realized she was one of the designers. That way, then she could gently lead him into the idea of Cherry and Merry Widow being the perfect match. She’d noticed one thing in this past year of trying to sell her wares—the minute someone thought you were pitching something, they went on the defensive.
Her gaze roamed over the masculine beauty of his face, making her sigh. Nope. She’d much rather he be receptive to anything she had to pitch.
So she shrugged instead and said, “There are a lot of great looks here tonight. I think it’d be fun to try to match each one to their perfect person.” Hailey wanted to bounce in her Manolos, she was so proud of that subtle hint. Kinda like subliminal sales. She’d just lay a few bread crumbs here and there, and he could nibble his way to her line of thinking. “That’s the key to a great design, isn’t it? That it enhance the features, the personality, of the person wearing it.”
“Do you really think there’s someone that suits all of these, um, outfits?” he asked over the band, who’d turned their amps up louder now that people were hitting the dance floor. He gave a pair of sequined hot pants and a satin, cropped tee a doubtful look before arching a skeptical brow. Maybe because the outfit was the same nauseating green as his fur.
“I think everyone, and everything, has a perfect match,” she said. Then she grimaced, worried her enthusiasm might be taken the wrong way—as if she were about to chase him down like a lovesick crazy woman who was looking for happy-ever-after forever promises. Instead of the right way, which was that they should get naked and see what happened when their bodies got sweaty together.
What’d happened to her? Hailey was almost as shocked at her body’s reaction—instant horniness—as she was at her wild thoughts.
She rubbed one finger against her temple, as if she could reset her normal inhibition levels. She needed to stick with cheap champagne from now on. Clearly she couldn’t handle the expensive stuff.
“What type of lingerie would match you perfectly?” he wondered aloud. His tone was teasing, but the look on his face made her stomach tumble as the lust spun fast, tangling with nerves.
To hell with resetting her inhibitions.
This was way more fun.
Her perfect match was a man who was there for her. Who wanted her for the long-term, not just for a convenient window of time. Perfect was fabulous sex, unquestioning support, faith in her abilities and enough love to want to actually dig in deep and be a part of her world, instead of flitting around the convenient edges.
But that was all someday thinking.
Tonight? Tonight perfect was dressed in green fur.
As if he heard her thoughts, the flirtatious heat faded from Gage’s demeanor and his smile shifted from seductive to charmingly distant.
Hailey frowned as his look intensified, as if he were inspecting the far corners of her soul. The parts she kept hidden, even from herself.
Was he reading her mind when his eyes got all deep and penetrating like that? Did he know she was wondering if he was her match? Or was he the kind of guy who’d run, screaming with his furry tail between his legs, if he had a clue she was interested in more than business?
Before she could wonder too much about it, though, the floor show kicked off. All of the models hit the dance floor, “Gangnam Style.” And Gage’s attention shifted, so the heat in Hailey’s belly had a chance to cool a little.
“Now, that’s entertainment,” he said with a laugh, wincing as more than one model had to grab her chest to keep it from flying out while dancing.
“It’s getting wild,” Hailey agreed, both amused and impressed at the same time. Wild or not, her designs looked great out there. Feminine and sexy. And it was nice to know her lingerie could dance horsey style.
“What do you say?” Gage asked, leaning in close so his words teased her ear. Hailey shivered, her nipples leaping to attention and her mind fogging again. “Want to get out of here?”
Despite her nipples’ rapid agreement, Hailey hesitated.
She was willing to do a lot for her company. She was willing to do almost anything to get this contract. But while she was insanely attracted to Gage, she wasn’t sure leaving with him was something she’d be proud of once the champagne cleared her system.
Correctly reading her hesitation, Gage gestured to the glass doors.
“How about a walk through the conservatory? It’ll be quieter. We can talk, get away from the, um, dancing.”
As if echoing his words, the music shifted to a raunchier beat. Hailey winced as the dancers shifted right along with it.
A walk. That was safe. They would still be in a fairly public arena and she’d be close enough to the party to remind herself that this was business. That should keep her from trying to rip that fur off Gage’s body to see what was underneath.
“Sure,” she agreed, accepting his invitation to tuck her arm into his. She tried to ignore the dance floor, where the hired help was doing a dance version of the upright doggy style. But she couldn’t help blushing. Not because the moves were tacky. But because she wished she could do them, too. She couldn’t, of course. Mostly because she was a lousy dancer.
She could—and should—get out of here before the dancers, and the champagne, gave her any more naughty ideas, though.
“A walk would be lovely.”
* * *
GAGE WELCOMED THE cool night air like an alcoholic welcomed that first hit of gin. With greedy need and a silent groan of gratitude.
He’d been sweating like crazy in there.
Was it because of this god-awful hideous costume?
Or because of his body’s reaction to the sweet, little elf next to him?
It had to be the costume.
Because he never sweated over women.
The lust wasn’t a new thing. He’d spent most of his life surrounded by gorgeous women, so lust was as very familiar to him as breathing.
And it wasn’t as if he had problems mixing business and pleasure. Gage worked with too many beautiful women to hamper himself with silly rules or false moral restrictions.
And while he wasn’t a cocky ass, he’d had enough success with the ladies to feel both comfortable and confident that he could handle anything a woman had to offer.
Nope. He’d never had women problems.
So clearly, it must be the costume.
“Mr. Rudolph puts on quite a party,” Hailey said as she wandered between marble columns wrapped in twinkling white lights. “Do you attend often?”
“This is my first,” he admitted. “How about you?”
Gage didn’t wander. Instead, he scoped the room, found a semisheltered wall and leaned against it. That way, she could come to him. She didn’t, though. Instead, after an inscrutable look through those thick lashes, she shrugged and continued her slow meander through the conservatory.
“This is my first, too. I’ve talked to plenty of people who are involved behind the scenes, though. If the rumors are true, things are going to get pretty wild and naked in there soon.”
Behind the scenes?
She must have a few models in there showing off the wares. Theirs, and the designers. He debated how long to wait and steer the conversation toward some of her other clients. A minute or two, maybe. First he needed to figure her out. Usually by this point, fifteen minutes into their first meet, he’d completely pegged a person.
But Hailey the elf was a mystery.
“You don’t sound disgusted by the idea of wild and naked,” he observed.
Was she wilder than her sweet face and cute demeanor portrayed? His body stirred, very interested in finding out.
“Everyone has the right to enjoy the holidays in their own special way,” she said, her laugh as light as the bells jingling on her hat. “And I like the idea that the lingerie samples might be so sexy, they inspire that kind of thinking.”
“On the right woman, an elf hat and ballerina skirt inspires that kind of thinking,” he murmured quietly.
Not so quietly that she didn’t hear, if the pale pink washing over her cheeks was any indication. She didn’t say anything, though. Just kept on wandering.
“So what did you find most interesting this evening?” she asked, trailing her fingers along the edge of a larger-than-life, white wicker sleigh filled with a tree, gifts and more lights. “Were you here for the shoes? There were some gorgeous new lines being shown. Or are you more a women’s-wear kind of guy?”
Her arch smile was teasing and filled with as much light as the twinkling display around them. Gage had to wonder if she was always this cheerful or if she’d been hit with a little too much holiday cheer.
“I was only interested in the lingerie,” he said, figuring it was time to start winding the conversation toward her coveted client. “At least I was until I saw you. Everything else sort of faded at that point.”
“Uh-huh,” she laughed. “Me versus a dozen perfect women in lingerie. I can see how you were torn between the two views.”
“Do you doubt me?”
At his mock offense, she stopped wandering and gave him a wide-eyed once-over. Then, finally, she joined him next to the nice, semiprivate wall.
“Doubt the Grinch? A figure known for his good cheer, holiday honesty and love of everything sweet and cuddly?”