Читать книгу Naughty Christmas Nights - Tawny Weber - Страница 10

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“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.

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.