6

      THE MAN WAS pond scum. Worse, he was sexy pond scum disguised as temptation. And he was so damned sure he was going to sweep in and snag the contract. Hailey ground her teeth, still pissed. A good night’s sleep might have helped, but she’d spent the night having erotic dreams of Gage, covered in sexy pond scum that looked a lot like his Grinch fur.

      Damn him.

      There was no way she was letting him take this contract from her. No way in hell.

      Hailey stepped into Rudy Rudolph’s office riding high on a righteous anger, a double caramel latte and the feminine confidence only great lingerie and a new pair of shoes could offer.

      The black leather of her double-strap Mary Janes was a perfect contrast to her red tights and purple knit slip dress. She’d offset the aggressive colors by pulling her hair back in a loose braid, letting tendrils curl around her face. As accents, she’d assured herself. Not for something to hide behind.

      “Miss North, welcome.”

      “Call me Hailey,” she told the bald little man for the tenth time. Her smile stiffened when she saw that Gage was already there.

      Not only there, she noted, narrowing her eyes. But there, cozied up in the seating area by the window. Right next to a buxom redhead who looked as if she ate sexy guys for breakfast and snacked on the more adventurous ones for dessert.

      Hailey’s fashion eye took in the woman’s expensive dress, a Zac Posen cloque in gunmetal, paired with a droolworthy pair of matching Louboutins. You couldn’t begrudge the woman’s excellent taste. In clothes, shoes or—Hailey noted as the redhead reached over to lay her hand on Gage’s wrist—in men.

      “Have a seat, Hailey. Can I get you a drink?”

      Gage and the redhead still ignoring her, Hailey refused Rudy’s offer, her fingers gripping her leather portfolio bag’s handle so tight she was surprised the stitches didn’t fall out.

      “Cherry,” Rudy called as he ushered Hailey across the room. “Here she is. The owner and designer of Merry Widow Lingerie, Hailey North. As you can see, she’s just as fetching as her designs.”

      The redhead rose, a slow sinuous move that in the end had her towering over Hailey’s petite frame. It was easy to see why Rudolph wanted her as the face of his spring campaign. She was the embodiment of smoldering sexuality.

      “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bella,” Hailey said, her words stiffer than she’d like. Because Gage was giving her that smug look, she told herself. Not because the woman had just been touching a guy Hailey herself wanted to lick like a melting Popsicle.

      “I love your designs,” Cherry said, her trademark voice husky and low, more suited for a dim, smoky bar than a business meeting. But her smile was genuine, and her grasp warm and friendly as she took Hailey’s hand. Not to shake. Just to hold for a second, as if making a connection while pulling her over and gesturing that Hailey take the seat next to her. “You create the most romantic celebration of femininity I’ve ever seen. I’m awed.”

      Oh.

      Her throat tightened. It was enough to make a girl cry.

      “And such a contrast to the raw power of Milano’s designs,” Cherry continued, sliding into her chair with a boneless sort of grace. “Also a celebration of the female form, but with a very different message.”

      And that was enough to make a girl want to throw things.

      For once, just once, Hailey wanted to be the clear choice. The one someone wanted most. But hey, a lifetime of coming in second, third and fourth best taught a girl a few things about sticking with it.

      So she kept her big smile in place and sat, not nearly as gracefully, beside Cherry.

      “If you don’t mind my asking, which do you think suits you best?” Hailey heard herself ask. She barely refrained from biting her lip to try to snap the words back. She’d planned to be charming, persuasive and subtle. Like her designs.

      But Cherry didn’t seem offended. Instead, she laughed and gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’m a multifaceted woman. Choosing isn’t a simple thing. Much, always, depends on my mood.”

      Hailey almost pointed out that her designs suited a variety of moods, while Milano’s only suited the kinkier ones. But this time she managed to keep her mouth closed.

      Instead, she—finally—let herself look at Gage.

      His dark eyes were aimed right at her, a small smile playing over those sexy lips. As if he were looking into her mind and poking through her plans and ideas, preparing to blow them all to teeny-tiny pieces.

      Yet, she still wanted him.

      If she closed her eyes, she could still taste that kiss. Could still feel the touch of his fingers against her skin. Remember the scent of his cologne, the feel of his hair.

      No, no, no. The man was a shark, she reminded herself. Not Prince Charming. He’d eat her up in one bite.

      An idea which really shouldn’t turn her on.

      “Let’s get started, shall we? Cherry’s expressed her preferences between the other choices.” Rudy went on to name the lines Cherry had chosen.

      Hailey almost jumped out of her chair to do a happy dance when Vivo wasn’t among them. They were all strong designers, but none so out there that her lingerie wouldn’t complement them. Of course, none were so conservative that Milano’s wouldn’t work, either. But Hailey was going to ignore that for right now.

      “Yours is the final line Cherry needs to review before we settle on the spring lineup,” Rudy continued. Playing waiter with a dapper flair, he set a Plexiglas tray on the small table centered between their four chairs, motioned to the coffee, tea and juice as if encouraging everyone to help themselves.

      When nobody did, he snagged a Christmas cookie shaped like a reindeer, bit its head off and gestured with its body. “I’d like the two of you to give a final pitch. Tell us why your design is perfect for Cherry Bella and Rudolph department stores.”

      “Ladies first,” Gage said before Hailey could do more than take a nervous breath.

      She gave him a look, intending to say something—anything—that’d put him in his place and let him know that he wasn’t running this show.

      But the second her eyes met his, her brain shut down. She hated that. But her body—oh, her body—it loved the results. Big-time.

      Her heart did a little dance in perfect time with the nerves swirling around in her stomach. She could stare into his eyes for hours. Days, even. Nights would be even better. She wanted to see those eyes heat again, darken with desire and smolder with passion. Like they’d done when he’d kissed her.

      She wet her lips, remembering his taste. The texture of his mouth. The sweep of his tongue.

      “Hailey?”

      “Hmm?” She blinked. Then she blinked again, her eyes widening in horror before she ripped them from Gage to focus on the man with the giant checkbook and the key to her future. “I’m sorry, what?”

      “Why don’t you go ahead and make your pitch.”

      She wanted to suggest that Gage go first instead. She wanted to ask for a bucket of ice. She could barely think straight with her brain locked in horny mode. But they were all gazing at her expectantly and she didn’t want to make waves. Or worse, look as though she wasn’t grateful for this opportunity.