The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas

Gage grinned. Damn, she was cute.

“Is that what he’s for?” He looked down at the green fur monstrosity he was wearing and rolled his eyes. How appropriate. He had to hand it to his brother; the guy was clever with the inside jokes.

“You don’t know? You’re supposed to be portraying your favorite holiday character.”

“I lost a bet.”

“So you’re not really all Grinchy about the holidays?” She tilted her head to one side as she asked the question, her bells tinkling as if to dare him to deny the joy of the season.

Gage hesitated. He never tried to hide his disdain for the holidays, nor was he worried about offending a potential business associate over differing views. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to dim the sparkle in Hailey’s eyes. Sharing his opinion of Christmas would be akin to telling a four-year-old that Santa was a sleighload of crap. Which was exactly what his stepmother-du-jour had done to him.

Instead, he did what he was best at. Sidestepped the question with a charming smile. “I promise you, I’ve never been called Grinchy in my life.”

The speculation in her big eyes told him he might need to toss out a little more charming distraction. Otherwise, she seemed like the stubborn type. The kind who sweetly nagged at a person until they’d spilled their every secret, then thanked her for dragging them through the ugly memories.

“How about you?” he asked. “Why is an elf your favorite holiday character?”

“Elves are clever. They bring joy and create beauty, but they stay behind the scenes. They’re the cute and cuddly part of the background.” To emphasize her point, she offered a bright smile, tilted her chin toward her shoulder and twirled around so her skirt offered a tempting view of her stockings. Which, Gage’s mouth watered to realize, were thigh-high and held up with garters.

“But elves don’t have their own movie,” he pointed out. “As grumpy as he is, even the Grinch gets top billing.”

“Elf is a movie. And top billing usually comes with top headaches,” she pointed out. “Expectations and demands of excellence. Appearances, groupies, haters. Is all of that really worth the spotlight?”

Gage frowned.

Hell, yeah, it was worth it. The other option sounded kind of...forgettable. Who aspired to that?

Maybe that was why she was an agent instead of striving to be the star, he guessed.

Still...

“Being on top is better than being on the bottom,” he pointed out.

“Not always.” Her words were low, teasing and lilting with innuendo. The look in her eyes was hot, sexy. And way more appreciative of the view than he figured his costume warranted. But who was he to dissuade a gorgeous woman from appreciating him?

His momma didn’t raise no fools. Of course, she didn’t raise her sons, either, but that was beside the point.

Right now, the point was seeing how hot this spark could flame between him and the deliciously naughty elf.

He stepped closer.

Amusement and desire both clear on her face, Hailey stepped back. With a quick glance over his shoulder, as if gauging their privacy, she wet her lips.

Gage almost groaned.

He probably could have walked away before.

Probably.

But now? Seeing that full mouth damp and inviting?

He wasn’t leaving without a taste.

“Being on top has a few definite benefits,” he decided quietly, now having completely switched places so her back was against the wall and his toward the ballroom.

“Does it? Like what?” Her eyes were huge, so big they were lost in the curls tumbling out from the white fur brim of her hat.

Need, stronger than any he’d felt over a simple flirtation, surged through Gage’s body. He angled his body so Hailey was trapped between him and the wall.

For a second, one delicious second, he just stared.

Enjoyed the anticipation in her eyes.

The rapid pulse fluttering in her throat.

The tempting display of luscious flesh, mounded above the tight satin binding her breasts.

The need intensified. Took on a sharp, hungry edge.

“Like this,” he said, giving in to its demand.

He took her mouth.

He’d intended to be gentle. Sweet, even.

But the kiss was carnal and raw and dancing on the edges of desperate. Tongues tangled. Lips slid, hot and wet.

She tasted as sweet as she looked.

But the sounds she made were sexual nirvana. Low, husky moans of approval as his hands skimmed over her waist to that tempting place just below her breasts. He didn’t touch. He just tortured the both of them with the idea that he could.

Public, he forcibly reminded himself. They were practically in public, and if he did what he wanted, they’d be putting on a display for a ballroom full of people.

Knowing if he didn’t stop now, that display was a very real possibility, Gage slowly, reluctantly, pulled his mouth from hers.

It was harder than he’d thought it’d be. And not just between his legs.

Unwilling to let go completely, his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head, Gage leaned closer. His body trapped hers as he pressed tiny kisses along her throat. Hailey’s head fell back, her breath coming fast, filling the air with tiny bursts of white fog.

The move arched her back, so the long, delicious length of her throat was bare and those glorious breasts pressed higher against his chest. His hands burned with the need to cup her bounty. To weigh the soft flesh. To slide that candy-cane-striped fabric down and see if she was as tasty as he thought.

Public, Gage reminded himself again. Keep it in control.

Because while he wasn’t averse to a little public display of passion himself, he had the feeling that Hailey would be. Especially if some of those models in there were hers.

Then her hands shifted, moving off his shoulders to press their way down his chest. Gage could feel their heat even through the thick fur of his costume.

He shuddered with need, taking in the flush of rosy color washing over Hailey’s cheeks and pouring down her throat and chest to meet that tight satin.

One taste couldn’t hurt, he decided.

Even as his mind listed all the ways it actually could, he moved closer, so his body was tight against hers. As Hailey’s hum of pleasure filled the air, he pressed his mouth against the side of her throat, just under her ear, and gave in to the need to taste.

She was delicious.

Seriously worried for his sanity if she kept teasing him with those delicate fingers, Gage folded his hand over hers and pressed her palm flat against his chest. Then he grabbed the zipper tab and yanked.

It didn’t move.

The grabby need clawing at Gage’s libido slowed, even as the foggy desire tried to pull him back.

He yanked again.

Nothing.

“Hell,” he muttered, pulling his mouth from Hailey’s.

Unwilling to separate their bodies, he angled his head to peer at his chest. He got a better grip on the tab and pulled again.

The zipper was stuck.

“I can’t get it down.”

“Well, I guess I’d rather hear that than you can’t get it up,” she said, her eyes dancing with laughter. Clearly a smart woman, Hailey pressed those lush lips together to keep it contained, though.

Gage growled.

And yanked.

Nothing.

This was not happening.

His body straining against the thick fur of the costume from hell, he considered ripping it right off.

“I guess the moment’s lost,” he said with a reluctant smile when she couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. He figured that was better than acting like a spoiled, tantrum-throwing asshole.

Although he was reserving the right to throw the tantrum later in private.

“Maybe not lost,” she said, her smile gentle now, her eyes bright with promise. “Maybe just delayed.”

Gage considered the option of a delay over cancellation. It had a lot more appeal. And while he wasn’t so uptight that he had stupid rules about sex, clients and associates, he was also smart enough to know that women got funny about stuff. If Hailey thought he’d slept with her to get to her client, and to snag the deal, she’d go one of two ways. Give it to him because he was so damned good. Or withhold it out of spite.

He didn’t see her as the spiteful type, but she didn’t come across as the kind of woman who’d take kindly to ulterior motives, either.

Time for some careful maneuvering.

“Why don’t I call you?” he offered. After a quick mental review of his calendar, he added, “I’m out of town for the next couple of days. Are you available for dinner on Wednesday? I’ll pick you up at six.”

Her eyes were huge as she gave him a long look.

It was the kind of look that’d usually make him nervous.

A look filled with hope. With trust. With all those sweet, innocent emotions he’d never experienced in his life.

It was scary as hell.

His feet itched to run, even as his dick ached to stay.

“I have a meeting on Wednesday,” she finally said. She reached up to trace her index finger over his lower lip, making Gage want to growl and nip at her soft flesh. Then, without warning, she ducked under his arm and shifted away.

Scowling at how lost his arms felt all of a sudden, he turned to watch her stop a couple of feet away. What? Did she think looking at her instead of touching was going to simmer down the need boiling through his system?

Impossible.

She was pure eye candy.

Still clinging with one hairpin, her hat was askew, dangling to one side. Blond curls, so soft when he’d tangled them in his fingers, were a bright halo around her face. And that face.

Gage wanted to groan.

He’d never gone for sweet. Sweet was dangerous. Sweet came with expectation, with demands. Sweet set off the run-don’t-walk sirens in his head.

But he couldn’t resist Hailey. He wanted all of the sweetness she had to offer.

But she was also the key to his winning this bet. And that, even more than the sirens, warned him to back off. At least until they’d settled their business.

“Well, if you have plans...” he started to say. Before he could excuse his way out of dinner and suggest a more businesslike meeting, she interrupted.

“Do you know Carinos?” she asked.

He gave a hesitant nod. Upscale and trendy, Carinos was the latest see-and-be-seen hot spot.

“How about I meet you there on Wednesday? We’ll need to make it seven instead of six, though. I’m not sure how late my meeting will go.”

This was it. His chance to back out.

But he couldn’t make himself suggest alternate plans.

Gage tried to sort through his confused thoughts. Not an easy thing to do when he could barely stand, thanks to the throbbing hard-on he was sporting.

Before he could decide if he should accept or counter, she smiled.

That sweet, sexy smile that shut down his brain.

Looking like a naughty elf, Hailey wet her lips. He wanted to groan at the sight of her small, pink tongue.

And then, moving so fast she was a blur of blond, she kissed him. Hot, intense. A sweep of her tongue, a slide of her lips. Just enough hint of teeth to make him growl to keep from begging.

Then, before he could take control, or hell, even react with more than a groan of appreciation for the hot spike of desire shooting through him, she moved back.

“See ya Wednesday,” she said.

With that, a little finger wave and a smile that showed just a hint of nerves around the edges, she was gone.

Gage wanted to run after her. To grab her and insist she do something about the crazy desire she’d set to flames in his body.

Except for two things.

One, his dick was so hard, he couldn’t walk for fear of something breaking.

And two, his mind was still reeling.

He’d tried to blame the costume. Because he didn’t get stupid over women.

Ever.

But that cute little elf, with her candy-cane-sweet taste, had sent him so far into Stupidville, he might as well set up camp.

Until he’d figured it out, he needed to stay away from her.

Far, far away.

Because horny was all good and well.

And, he had to admit, stupid-horny was a pretty freaking awesome feeling.

But stupid-horny and business?

Not a good combination.

At least, not when his freedom was on the line.

4

“YOU’RE GRINNING LIKE a kid who just found a dancing pony under her Christmas tree. What’s wrong with you?”

Wrong?

This was afterglow. Sexual anticipation. And a big ole dollop of nervous energy. It’d been three days since her kiss with Gage, and she was still floating.

Hailey inspected her image in the ornate standing mirror in the corner of her workroom-slash-office. Behind her were swaths of billowing silk, yards of lace and spilling bins of roses and romantic trim.

Only Doris would look at that and say it was wrong.

Hailey peered past her reflection to the woman behind her.

Doris Danson, or D.D. to her friends—which meant Hailey called her Doris—looked as if she were stuck in a time warp.

Rounded and a little droopy, her white hair was bundled in a messy bun reminiscent of a fifties showgirl. Bright blue eye shadow and false lashes added to the image. Doris’s workday uniform consisted of polyester slacks, a T-shirt with a crude saying by a popular yellow bird and an appliqué holiday sweater complete with beribboned dogs, candy canes and sequin-covered trees.

The sweater and tee didn’t bother Hailey. But as a designer, she was morally offended at the elastic-waisted polyester. Doris knew that. Hailey had a suspicion that the older woman haunted thrift stores and rummage sales to stock up on the ugly things.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Hailey said.

Not really. But she couldn’t meet her secretary-slash-seamstress-slash-bookkeeper’s gaze.

Despite her afterglow, she was kind of freaked out. She’d made out with a potential business associate. Now, granted, associate was a pretty loose term. But she was still walking a moral line here. Should Gage be off-limits? Maybe she shouldn’t be obsessing over that kiss. Hailey bit her lip, chewing off the lip gloss she’d just slicked on five minutes ago.

“Might want to eat something besides your lipstick. Not like they feed you at these fancy meetings. Why you think it’s a good idea to go talk to this guy after he burned you is a mystery, though.”

“Mr. Rudolph didn’t burn me. He’d never offered an actual contract. I’m sure I’ll still get the exclusive. It’s just going to be a little more interesting now.” Jared and Trent wouldn’t have praised her designs like they had if they didn’t think she had the contract in the bag. And Hailey had a secret weapon now. A very sexy, very delicious one she was meeting for dinner.

“Interesting. Right. Instead of getting a solid deal you expected, you get to play some rich man’s game.” The wheels of her chair creaked as Doris shifted. The woman was barely visible behind the stacks of paper, catalogs and the tiny ceramic Christmas tree on her desk. Too bad she wasn’t barely audible, too. “And where are you going to be when that other guy walks off with the contract? On the street, that’s where.”

Turning to give Doris a chiding look, Hailey insisted, “It’s going to be fine. I’m going to get this deal.”

Doris tut-tutted. “I’m telling you, Hailey, you are wasting your time. Better to accept reality than to keep dragging this out.”

Hailey hated reality.

Especially when Doris dished it up with such bitter relish. It was as if she reveled in negativity. Hailey shifted her gaze from her own image to the woman behind her.

What a contrast.

Preparing for the meeting, Hailey was dressed in business chic. A black leather mini paired with leopard-print tights, a black silk turtleneck and a brushed cotton blazer with satin lapels. Along with her favorite boots and black knee-high schoolgirl socks, the look was savvy, sassy and modern. Just right for wowing a department-store tycoon and a fashion powerhouse.

And behind her was the elf of Christmas gloom.

An elf that knew the business inside and out, could finagle suppliers’ fees down to pennies, worked magic with the books and, next to Hailey, was the best fill-in seamstress Merry Widow had ever seen. Which made her indispensable.

Indispensable gloom.

Not for the first time, she wished she were the kind of person who could tell Doris that her bad attitude wouldn’t be tolerated and suggest the woman get her act together or clear out her desk.

But every time Hailey thought about doing it, she thought of everything the woman brought to the company. Then she remembered how lousy Doris’s home life was, how Merry Widow was all she really had.

And whenever the older woman pissed her off so much that she forgot all that, the minute she got ready to get in her face, Hailey’s tongue swelled up, her head buzzed with panic and she freaked out.

It wasn’t that she was a wimp. She was a fierce negotiator in business, a savvy designer who insisted her company be run her way. She was smart. She was clever. She was strong.

She just sucked at confrontation.

Partially because her father had once told her that arguments always left scars. That even after making up, the memory of the conflict would forever change the relationship. Given that his advice had come on the heels of a hideous family drama that’d cost Hailey a whole year away from her new half brother, she’d taken the lesson to heart.

But mostly because she hated making people mad at her. Her mom had got mad and left her dad. Her dad got mad and refused to talk to Hailey. She’d seen plenty of mad in her life. Which was why she tried to avoid it like the plague.

“You want one of these cookies?” Doris asked, a frosted reindeer in hand. Doris shot Hailey a sour smile, bit the head off, then said around her mouthful, “Might as well eat up now, since things are gonna get tight after we go out of business.”

“We’re not going out of business,” Hailey insisted, lifting a cream lace scarf to her shoulder to compare, then switching to one of vivid red cashmere.

“Right. Bet you still believe in Santa Claus, too.”

“We’re not going out of business,” she said again. “Our sales are up ten percent over last year. Our projected first quarter should double that, easily.”

“The Phillips kids are calling their daddy’s note the first of the year,” Doris reminded her like a persistently cheerful rain cloud.

Rotten kids. Or, really, greedy adults.

When Hailey had bought Merry Widow Lingerie from Eric Phillips three years ago, they’d agreed that he’d take a percentage of the profits for five years, with a final payment of the agreed-upon balance at the end of that time. When he’d died in the fall, though, his kids had found a loophole in the contract, insisting that they could call the entire debt. They’d given Hailey until the end of the year, which was mighty big of them, in their opinion.

Without a significant contract the size of, oh, say Rudolph department stores, the bank wouldn’t consider a loan in the sum the Phillipses were demanding.

Just thinking about it made Hailey’s stomach churn, an inky panic coating the back of her throat.

No. She put the mental brakes to the freak-out. She wasn’t going there. She’d found her answer; she just had to believe in it. She was going to snag this Rudolph-department-store contract.

Negative thinking, even the kind that had her second-guessing her date tonight, would only drag her down.

Giving her reflection a hard-eyed stare, Hailey vowed that she was going to rock this meeting and wow her date. As long as she didn’t strip him naked and nibble on his body, she wasn’t crossing any ethical work-relationship boundaries. Right?

Right.

Now she just had to get Doris off her back.

“When I pull in this department-store deal, we’re golden. I can pay off the note, Merry Widow will be mine free and clear, and we’ll be set,” she assured the other woman.

“Do you bake special cookies to set out for Santa, or are you comfy settling for store bought? And those stars that fall from the sky, how many of those wishes actually come true for you?” Doris gave a pitying shake of her head. “You listen to me, miss. You keep going through life with your head in the clouds like you do, you’re gonna fall in a big ole ditch one of these days.”

What was it with the people in her life? Her mother was always warning that she’d get taken advantage of. Her friends worried that she was wearing rose-colored glasses. Even her father... Hailey bit her lip. Well, her father barely noticed what she was doing. But every once in a while, he did throw out a caution warning of his own. It wasn’t as if she were Pollyanna with no clue. Hailey was a smart, perceptive woman. She’d made it to twenty-six without a major heartbreak, owned her own business and paid her bills on time. And unlike anyone else in her family, she hadn’t had to resort to therapy and/or addictive substances along the way.

“I’m just saying, you might want to look at your alternatives. Me, I can retire anytime. But the rest of the team, don’t they deserve a little heads-up so they can start looking for new jobs? It’s all well and good to keep your hopes up,” Doris said, her tone indicating the exact opposite. “But you can’t let your Mary Sunshine attitude hurt other people, now, can you?”

“Everything is going to be fine. Why don’t you focus on doing your job and let me do mine,” Hailey snapped, her words so loud and insistent that the other woman dropped her cookie and stared.

She closed her eyes against Doris’s shocked look. Hailey never snapped. In a life surrounded by simmering emotional volcanoes, she worked hard to be calm water. Mellow. Soothing, even. She’d grown up watching the devastation negativity and emotional turmoil caused, had spent her childhood trying to repair the damage.

And, of course, on the oh-so-rare occasions that she did respond to stress with a negative reaction, she always got that same horrified, might-as-well-have-kicked-a-puppy-and-cussed-out-a-nun look from people.

“I’m sorry,” Hailey said with a grimace. “I’m just nervous about the meeting this afternoon. I want to make a good impression, to show Mr. Rudolph and his team that I’m the designer they want.”

“You think the perfect scarf is going to make that dirty old man pick you as his lingerie designer?”

“I think the right look will show him my sense of style and savvy use of color and patterns,” Hailey defended, lifting one scarf and then the other against her neckline again. “How a woman feels about her outfit affects her confidence, after all. If I think I look good, I’ll project a strong image. And that might be all I need to get the deal.”

“You might be a little overoptimistic about business stuff, but you’ve always had a firm handle on how well you put together fashion,” Doris said with a frown. “Silly to start worrying about it now.”

“I really want this contract.” Desperately needed it was closer to the truth. But why put that fine a dot on the subject?

“An exclusive with the Rudolph department stores? It’ll be so cool. The rich and famous shop there. They have a store on Rodeo Drive and everything. Can you imagine Gwyneth Paltrow in Sassy Class?” Hailey said in a dreamy tone, thinking of the pristine white satin chemise with delicate crocheted trim.

“Those highfalutin stars are the only ones who can afford to shop at snobby stores like Rudolph’s.” Doris’s sniff made it perfectly clear what she thought of stars, snobs and all of their money.

“Well, unless you really do want to retire early and spend every day at home with your husband, you better cross your fingers that those snobs take to my designs,” Hailey said, finally choosing the red scarf. It was sassier, she decided as she draped it elegantly around her neck. Frustrated, she wrinkled her nose. At least she was trying for elegant. It was hard when she’d knotted wrinkles into the scarf, so it looked like a soggy, deflated balloon around her neck.