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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.
