Читать книгу The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas - Tawny Weber - Страница 15
ОглавлениеHOW DID A girl dress for a date with her competition—the sexiest man on earth—a wealthy pervert with the power to make or break her future and a gorgeous woman who intimidated the hell out of her?
With killer lingerie, of course.
Hopefully, killer lingerie would make this evening magic. Parking her car, Hailey grimaced. Two days after she’d issued the bet challenge, and it was time to rock. She took a deep breath, the move pushing her lacy-edged breasts tight against the sheer fabric of her blouse. Tonight was all about romance. But that didn’t mean romance wasn’t sexy. To prove that point, she’d opted for exquisite lace and satin in a delicate shade of pink under a blouse the color of milk chocolate. Her full skirt, the same shade of brown, hit midthigh, the better to show off the delicate seams and bows climbing the backs of her sheer stockings.
That her thong and garter belt matched the pale pink bra visible through the filmy fabric of her blouse was Hailey’s little secret. One that people might guess, which meant it’d titillate and intrigue. Not scream “do me because I wear sexy underwear”...like some people’s lingerie.
“Miss North, you look amazing,” the maître d’ greeted as she swept into Carinos, where she’d set the scene for her special scenario pitch. It wasn’t so much that she wanted to rub in Gage’s face what he’d lost by choosing a contract over her. No. Carinos was her favorite restaurant. If he ate his heart out in addition to the delicious dinner she’d arranged, well, that was icing on the cake.
“Thanks, Paolo,” she responded with a warm smile, following him to the private room she’d arranged, pleased at the ambience along the way. Soft music, flickering candles, the delicate scent of roses filling the air as they skirted the main dining room and stopped just short of the atrium, with its lush display of winter roses.
“The rest of the party should be along shortly,” she told Paolo, slipping him a generous tip as he gestured to the door of their private room.
“One gentleman is already here, Miss North. I’ll escort the others as soon as they arrive.”
Figuring that gentleman was Gage trying to get the jump on her, and wanting to be sure Paolo was waiting for Rudy and Cherry, she told him she’d seat herself. Hailey took a deep breath, mentally going over her checklist for the evening, then plastered on her biggest smile as she entered the room.
Her breath stuck in her chest.
Oh, baby, Gage was gorgeous.
The navy suit fit him to perfection. And since his back was turned while he stared out the glass wall at the flower garden, she could see how well tailored the slacks were, cupping his butt in a way that made her jealous of the fabric.
Then he turned.
And the view from the front was even sexier.
Puffing out a little breath, she forced herself to lift her gaze to his face. It was like trying to heft a very reluctant elephant over her head. Her eyes wanted to slide right back down.
“Ahh, my date.” His smile was wickedly teasing and light. But his gaze turned hot fast as he took in her appearance. “You look lovely.”
Uh-oh.
The first rule she’d set for this evening was to keep a distance between herself and Gage. To stay as far away as politely possible so she could maintain control. Of her thoughts. Of her body. And of the situation.
But as he crossed the room and took her hands in his, all she could do was sigh. After all, it’d be rude to pull away.
“Thank you.” She gazed up at him, her fingers itching to touch his perfectly styled hair, to muss it just a little so it fell across his forehead like it had the first evening they’d met.
Then he raised one of her hands to his lips, brushing his mouth over her knuckles. Hailey’s knees almost buckled. Talk about romantic. It was as if he had magic in those lips of his.
And if he could get her all weak in the knees with such a sweet move, what else could that mouth do? She knew his kisses were hot enough to melt her panties.
Suddenly she was desperate to know how much more power he had. To feel more of what he had to offer.
And he knew it.
The look in Gage’s eyes was a combination of wicked amusement and sexual heat. A promise. One she had every faith he could keep, and one she was quickly becoming desperate to feel.
“Miss North...”
Hailey’s eyes dropped to Gage’s mouth. Those lips were curved. Soft. Full. She wanted to taste them. To feel them trailing down her body.
“Excuse me.”
“Someone wants you,” Gage said, his words low and amused.
Him?
“Miss North?”
Dammit.
Hailey pulled her hands, and her body, away from Gage and turned. Face on fire, she shook her head, trying to toss off the spell, then turned to give Paolo a shaky smile.
“Yes?”
“A message for you.” As polite and circumspect as if he were totally oblivious to the sexual sparks flying around the room, he stepped forward and handed Hailey a slip of paper. Then, without a word, he turned smartly on one heel and exited. Leaving Hailey alone with Gage and all that sexual temptation.
Frowning, she opened the slip of paper and read it. Her frown turned into a scowl and she crushed the note in her fist.
“What’s wrong?”
“Apparently Cherry can’t make it. She’s not feeling well this evening. She sent the message through Rudy, who said he’d meet us in an hour and to go ahead and start dinner without him.”
Damn. Damn, damn, damn.
Hailey all but stomped her foot and shook her fist at the ceiling, she was so frustrated.
She’d planned this evening so carefully. The most romantic restaurant, a private room. She’d ordered the meal, the dessert, the champagne and even picked the music, all with the idea of impressing Cherry and Rudy.
Now, neither of them was here.
Her grand plan to prove she was the best pick for the contract, poof. Gone. She swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump of tears clogging her throat.
“Well, I guess we can get on with the evening,” Gage said, his tone close to a shrug. “Rudy will get here when he gets here.”
“What’s the point? I’m not trying to convince you of the merits of a romantic evening,” she said, jerking one shoulder in a dismissive shrug. Be nice, a part of her chided. He might be her competition, but Gage was still a major player who knew a lot of people. If she angered him, he could easily spread the word that she was a bitch or a diva. Or just a pain in his butt.
But for once, she didn’t care about that cautioning voice. She wasn’t worried about upsetting anyone. Not when she was already this upset herself.
“Look, have a glass of wine and let’s eat. We might as well,” Gage persuaded. “There’s no point in letting this ambience go to waste. The wine is chilled. The stomachs are growling. Let’s enjoy it.”
Hailey looked around the room.
Ambience, indeed. A cozy table for four covered in white linen, lit candles amid holiday greenery on the table and the sideboard. Instead of the Christmas tunes that were playing gently out in the restaurant, the speakers here played the bluesy romantic tones of Cherry’s music. A bottle of wine waited, as did a tray of hors d’oeuvres and fruit.
And Gage.
Looking oh so sexy and sympathetic.
She might be able to resist the sexy—and that was a huge might—but the sympathy in his dark eyes? Her heart melted a little; it was so unused to anyone seeming to give two good damns about her.
“Maybe we should hold the meal until Rudy joins us,” she murmured, sure an evening alone with Gage was a bad idea. One that’d feel amazingly good, but still... “Wouldn’t it be better to wait for him?”
“No.” Gage took her hand, led her to a seat with a perfect view of the garden and held out the chair. “He said to start without him. I’m starving, so let’s eat.”
Hailey hesitated, then sat. Because she was starving. Not because she wanted more time with Gage. She’d been so amped over this evening, so busy planning it all, that she hadn’t eaten a thing since breakfast.
“This doesn’t count as my pitch for the contract. Once we eat or drink, unless Rudy or Cherry are here, the pitch is void.” Determined to settle that point, Hailey gave him an intent, narrow-eyed look. “Okay?”
“You sure?” Gage leaned back in his chair, giving her a considering look that made her shiver and wish she’d worn something that didn’t actually show her underwear. When she nodded, he lifted his glass of ice water with a twist of lemon and drank. “I guess we’ll just have to call this a date, then.”
Her eyes rounding, Hailey gulped.
“No—”
“Hey, you said it,” he interrupted. “It’s not for business. Which means this is a date. Just you and me and what dates are all about. Pure pleasure.”
* * *
GAGE LOVED WATCHING Hailey’s face. She was an open book, every emotion, every thought playing across those pretty features. Right now, her slick berry lips pursed and her brows creased, he read irritation, dismay and—yes, oh yes, baby—a whole lot of interest and sexual heat.
He figured the heated interest was enough to overcome the other dismay. And he kinda liked the irritation. It meant he was keeping her on edge. And Hailey on edge was fun. Like watching a hissing, spitting kitten.
“This is not a date.”
Gage grinned. She was so cute when she was stubborn.
“Sure it is. You. Me. Candlelight dinner, all the foofy romantic accompaniments. That says date.”
“Foofy?” Her green eyes slitted and she spat the word, just like the hissing kitten he’d thought her. “You call romance foofy?”
“Sure. It’s like frosting.” When she frowned and shook her head, he elaborated. “Frosting is sweet. It’s fluffy and tasty and quite often decadent. But it’s not the point. The point is the cake.”
“And you think leather lingerie is cake?”
“No.” He waited for the stiffness to drain from her shoulders and her face to relax again before adding, “The cake is sex.”
He laughed when she almost fumbled her glass of water.
“You’re awfully naive for a woman who designs sex clothes.”
“I don’t design sex clothes. I design lingerie. Underwear, sleepwear, apparel to make a woman feel confident and attractive and empowered.”
As much as he was enjoying the view of her face, those round cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing, Gage let his gaze drop.
Her see-through blouse was ruffly and full, creating a hazy distraction from the delicious curve of her breasts, highlighted to perfection in a pink bra. He had to hand it to her. Lacy and dotted with pearly things, the bra was attractive. And if it made her feel confident and empowered, well, more power to that sweet satin.
But he was thinking sex when he looked at it.
A fact he knew was clear on his face when he met her eyes again. A fact that, if the way her gaze blurred and her breath hitched were any indication, got her a little excited.
Good. He still had hope of rescuing this evening. As irritated as he was to put off his departure to Tahoe until next week after he’d nailed down winning this contract, spending more time with Hailey was a pretty good consolation.
He’d be even happier if they could spend some of that time naked. Or at least—his gaze dropped again—seeing her lingerie in more detail.
“Then I guess I’m all for empowerment if it comes in pink satin and—” He made a show of leaning closer. “Is that lace tan or brown?”
Pink, even darker than the last blush, washed her cheeks. Gage grinned. Teasing her was fun. Something he’d never actually experienced when it came to business. Missing was that sharp competitive edge, the driving need to win. Not that he had any doubt he’d triumph when it came to the contract. But for once, it was more about enjoying himself than proving himself.
Just then, the waiter stepped in with wine and a tray.
Gage leaned back, watching Hailey relax as she chatted with the man as he poured wine, letting him know it’d just be the two of them for dinner so to go ahead and serve. He waited until the man had left before arching a brow.
“We don’t order for ourselves?”
She gave an impatient little sniff, then after an internal debate that had him wondering what she was hiding, she shrugged.
“The point of this dinner is romance. Which is more than just candles, wine and music.”
“I might hate whatever you chose, though,” he teased.
“If you do, then I’m not very good at relaying the message of romance, am I?”
She said it as if romance was real. As if it was more than a sales pitch. He knew she was sweet, bordering on naive. But to really believe in that fairy tale? She wasn’t crazy.
“C’mon,” Gage said with a laugh. “It’s just us. Be honest. You’re not really buying into this whole romance-versus-sex thing, are you? That’s only a ploy to strengthen your pitch.”
Her lower lip stuck out when she frowned. He wanted to reach over and trace the pad of his thumb against it, test its softness.
“You don’t believe in romance?”
“It’s a device. A sales pitch.” He waved one hand to indicate the room, lifting his glass of wine with the other. “It’s all imagery.”
He sipped his wine, then gave an approving nod, pretending she wasn’t staring at him as though he’d spouted a third head and started babbling about the coming of aliens to take over the world and dress everyone in little pink tutus.
“Imagery? Romance is emotions, not packaging.”
“What’s its purpose?” he challenged, leaning back to rest one arm on the back of his chair and giving her a curious look. “To sell something, right? Sex, maybe? Companionship? Accoutrements like candles and wine and lingerie?”
Instead of rising to the bait and defending the fluff and froth of romance as he’d expected, Hailey just stared. Her look was intense, searching. Gage shifted, wondering if she could suddenly see through him the way he could see through her blouse. If so, he was pretty sure she wasn’t nearly as intrigued by what she saw.
“Is your lingerie just packaging?” she countered. “Is it just a way to make money?”
Yeah.
That was how his grandfather had built the company. On the concept of seeing what people thought they wanted and coming up with ideas to meet those wants.
That was how Devon developed new product offerings. He looked at the ideas people thought were so appealing and made them better. Bigger. More attractive, so they’d pay top dollar.
And that was how Gage sold it. By tapping into what people thought they needed and convincing them that his product was the only one that could perfectly meet that need.
It was Psychology 101, combined with Economics and Marketing 102.
But he didn’t think telling her that was going to score him any points.
So he shrugged, then shot a smile at the waiter, who chose that perfect moment to bring their food.
“Imagery is imagination, yes. It’s packaging and appeal. But romance is more than that,” she said as their dishes were set in front of them. His favorite spinach salad, he noted with a frown. “Romance is emotions.”
“Imagery taps into the emotions. Plays them,” he said, still frowning at the salad and wondering how she knew exactly what he liked. He glanced up to ask her and winced at the look on her face. Clearly she didn’t think the emotions were something to be played with.
He waited for her to chew him out.
Instead, she leaned closer, resting one hand on his forearm for support as she lifted her mouth toward his ear.
“And just so you know,” she said, her words a whisper of heat against the side of his head, low enough so the waiter couldn’t hear, “the lace is bittersweet chocolate. You know, like frosting.”
Gage closed his eyes and bit back a groan.
Every time he thought he had the upper hand, she found a way to knock him off balance.
“Enjoy,” the waiter said, breaking his thoughts.
Opening his eyes, Gage watched the guy leave. In the three seconds it took him to regain his equilibrium, Hailey dug into her own salad with a tiny moan of delight.
“I’m so glad you insisted we eat,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “I was starving.”
“What’s for dessert?” he asked, noting that her salad was slightly different from his. Spinach, yes, but hers had strawberries, which he was allergic to. Did she know that? “Something frosted, I hope.”
She laughed, looking more relaxed than he’d seen her since they’d realized they were rivals.
“You don’t really mean that about romance, do you? That you don’t think it’s real?” she asked after a few bites. “I didn’t peg you as the kind of guy who didn’t believe in the softer side of love.”
Another one for the imagery books. Gage shoved a forkful of spinach in his mouth to keep that opinion to himself.
“I think we buy into what we want to believe,” he finally said. “If you want to believe that love is romantic, you look for that. If someone else thinks that sex is about physical gratification, they find images to support that belief.”
“And if I wanted to believe you’re a grumpy sort of emotional curmudgeon who, after being exposed to a little romance, has his heart grow three times too large, will I see that, too?” she teased, her smile bright and her eyes dancing as she referenced his Grinch costume.
“I have no doubt you could make something grow three times larger....” It was difficult, but he managed to hold back his smile until he saw that pink on her cheeks. “But I doubt it’d involve my heart. Disappointed?”
Her lips pursed, as if she was debating.
“Well, I suppose it won’t jeopardize my chances of winning the account to admit that I was disappointed to find out you were my competition,” she said with a little shrug. The move did delicious things under that filmy shirt, the lush pillows of her breasts moving against the satin bra as if protesting their confinement. Gage’s fingers ached to touch. To see if she was as soft as she looked.
“Disappointed because you are worried I’ll win?” he asked, too distracted by the view to worry about nicing up his words.
“Disappointed that it meant we can’t date,” she denied, just a hint of irritation. “The man I met at the party was very appealing.”
It wasn’t her words, so much as the snap in her tone that grabbed his attention. Gage noted the annoyance as it flashed in her eyes, then was gone.
“But now you’re wondering if that man was real.” Gage frowned, wondering that, too. And wondering why he cared so much.
“You’re obviously real, seeing as you’re sitting right next to me all but licking—” she hesitated, took a breath that made her breasts shift deliciously again, then said archly “—your plate. The only question I have is who you really are.”
Marcus Milano’s son.
Devon Milano’s younger brother.
The last one consulted, the one who least fit the Milano mold.
And—definitely—a man who didn’t need a pretty little blonde poking into who he really was.
Time to change the subject.
“Isn’t the more important question how you’re going to pitch this romantic fluff idea of yours?” he said with just a hint of disdain. As he’d hoped, her eyes flashed and she shifted her shoulders back into combat position.
Good.
The only time he wanted her focused on him was if it included naked skin, hot tongues and the buildup to incredible orgasms.
“You’re very dismissive of something you don’t understand.” She arched one brow, poking a strawberry with her fork and lifting it to her mouth. She didn’t bite it, though. Instead, she slid the juicy fruit over her lower lip. Gage’s eyes narrowed and his body stiffened.
She smiled, her look pure triumph, as if her x-ray eyes saw through the table at his burgeoning boner.
“Don’t you think you’re proving my point?” Gage asked, shifting in his chair. He wasn’t embarrassed at his physical reaction. But he wasn’t sure where she was going with this, either. Hailey had a way of leading things along, all innocent-like, then just when he was sure he’d won, she’d bat those lashes and outmaneuver him.
He had to admire that about her.
“No.” She touched the strawberry with the tip of her tongue, as if testing its taste. Gage’s brain shut down and he suddenly didn’t give a damn whether she won or not. Just as long as she did that same move on a particular part of his body.
“Your point was that it’s just about sex. That the physical act and gratification are all that matters. My point is that the packaging is what makes that act so powerful. The buildup, the anticipation. The emotional journey.”
She paused to let her words sink in, then bit that strawberry right in half. Gage almost groaned out loud as his dick did a happy leap to full attention.
“You know,” she reminded him softly as she licked a tiny piece of strawberry off her lip. “The romance.”
“Visuals,” he countered after clearing his throat. Then, always ready to play to win, he leaned closer. Close enough to get in her space. Close enough that the delicate scent of her perfume wrapped around him. And close enough to see the rapid beat of her pulse against her throat.
“Imagery is powerful. I could describe to you exactly how I want to strip those clothes from your body, what I’d like to do once you’re naked and beneath me, how I want to taste you and where I’ll touch.” He waited, letting those words sink in. And sink they did, as she dropped her fork next to her plate and blinked quickly, looking as if she was trying to fan away that image with her eyelashes. Gage grinned. “But that’s sex. Which is my point.”
As if he’d been waiting around the corner for just the right moment, the waiter came in again with their entrées. Gage vowed to give the guy an extra tip for perfect timing, since Hailey now had to sit quietly, looking shell-shocked and absorbing his words instead of skipping right past them while trying to prove her point.
A point, Gage had to admit as his dinner was slid in front of him, that was pretty solid. If she was basing romance on good food and ambience, she’d have nailed it. He looked closer at the plate, noting all his favorites, from the way the steak was cooked to the type of vegetables.
“So what’d you do? Hire an investigator to scope out what I eat? If Cherry and Rudy were here, would they be having the same?”
“If Cherry and Rudy were here, their meals would fit their tastes,” she said primly, cutting a delicate sliver off her chicken.
Gage glanced at the place settings, trying to see how she’d designated it so the waiter knew who got what. They all looked the same. And he’d chosen his own seat, and hers, so that wasn’t it.
“Clever, but I don’t see what makes the meal choice romantic. Or what it has to do with lingerie,” he added, needing to remember the real purpose of this evening.
“No?” She gave him one of those looks only women could pull off. The kind that made it clear she wondered where he kept his brains but didn’t hold his lack of knowledge against him since he was so damned cute. “Romance is the effort to show you care about someone else’s preferences. It’s putting in a little extra time to make sure they feel appreciated. Special.”
“My grandma does that. Is she romancing me?”
“Does she do it in a private room by candlelight, with your favorite music in the background?”
Well, there was an image. Gage grimaced as it filled his head. Damn. She kept winning those points.
Time to turn the tables.
“So tell me, what’s the point of all this romance stuff you’re so hot on?” He disguised his shift closer to her chair by filling her wineglass. “Isn’t the end result the same?”
“The result?”
“When a guy romances a girl, or vice versa, the hoped-for result is sex, isn’t it? Same as a woman wearing lingerie. She wears it to get—” Gage winced before a very unromantic phrase slipped from his lips and corrected “—attention. The kind that will lead to sex.”
“When you’re hungry, do you prefer filet mignon or a burger from the convenience store?”
Ouch.
“Then I suppose Milano Lingerie’s place in that scenario would be, what? The equivalent to hunting down your own meal in the jungle and roasting it over an open fire?”
Her lips twitched and delight danced in her eyes, but Hailey shook her head.
“Oh, no. Milano’s not that adventurous. Maybe a gourmet-catered, rich-boy frat party,” she mused, tapping her finger to her chin in a way that was both adorable and amusing.
Gage laughed. She was fun. Not just fun in a cute-to-tease-and-see-her-blush kind of way. But clever. Smart and talented. Add that to a hot body and a gorgeous face, and she was trouble.
A smart man took on trouble only when he had time to deal with it. Gage had no time right now. He had a goal, a plan for his life. He didn’t have time to enjoy the kind of trouble Hailey represented.
But he had a point to prove.
With that in mind, he held her gaze with his and let his smile drop. His look became intense, hot. Sexual. He let her see how attracted he was. Clear on his face, he knew, was everything he wanted to do to her, with her and for her.
Hailey’s smile faded. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened. Good. She was getting the message.
“Oh, I don’t know. I think this Milano can be plenty adventurous,” he said quietly as he leaned in closer.
He reached under the heavy cloth covering the table and touched her knee. The soft fabric of her skirt slid temptingly between his fingers and her skin. Her eyes softened, heated. Like green glass melting into passion.
He slipped his hand under her skirt, smoothing his palm up her thigh. Delighting in the silken texture of her stocking. When he reached the top of her thigh he found lace. A band of it, separating the smooth texture of her stockings and the warm silk of her skin.
“You shouldn’t...” Her words trailed off into a soft, breathy sigh as he traced the lacy edge of her stockings, slipping one finger under the smooth satin garter, then skimming it between the stocking and her warm flesh.
She was so soft.
“I think I should.” He pressed the flat of his palm to her thigh, his fingers now wedged between her legs. His eyes locked on hers, silently demanding she give him room.
Her lips parted, wet and glistening, and a tiny furrow creased her brow. But slowly, so slow he wanted to groan, she unclenched her thighs and let them slide apart. Just a little. So the fit was tight.
Good.
He liked tight.
