The Night Before Christmas: Naughty Christmas Nights / The Nightshift Before Christmas / 'Twas the Week Before Christmas. Tawny Weber
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I doubt they have a clue.”
Jared’s snort of laughter was more sarcastic than amused.
“Which means no,” he explained at Hailey’s questioning look, a little of the sugary glitter flaking off his face as he sneered. “Your competitors are all well established, with top-of-the-line reps, darling. They, unlike you, have huge egos. None of them see the need to fraternize with the help. They talk to Rudy, or they don’t talk at all.”
She peered through the costumed crowd, looking for any of the lingerie-clad models circling the room. She sighed as one lithe blonde floated by in a Merry Widow nightie. Cotton flowed. Lace rippled. The pearl buttons down the front caught the light, even as the delicate fabric molded to the woman’s perfect body.
So romantic.
And so perfect for the Rudolph account, especially if he got Cherry as his spokesmodel.
She didn’t want to jinx it but the little voice in her head was already planning the victory-dance moves.
“I’m surprised Cherry’s agent isn’t all over this deal,” Hailey mused, wondering what they were holding out for. “A contract with Rudolph department stores would rocket her from national to international exposure, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jared agreed, looking like a dejected gingerbread boy with his furrowed brow. “We can’t figure out what the problem is. Rudy’d be tearing his hair out if he wasn’t already bald.”
“Best we can figure, it’s because the agency is one of those co-op places. The agents all work together on every client. Make decisions by consensus. We don’t even know which agent is at the party. Guy, gal, nobody’s got a clue,” Trent complained, looking like a very grumpy reindeer whose gossip rations were being withheld. “Like I said, whoever reels her in is going to be golden.”
Then a passing model dressed in a fishnet candy cane and spangles shaped like question marks caught his eye. He straightened his bow tie, gave Jared and Hailey an absent smile, then tilted his head. “Well, I think I’ll go talk up the models and see if any of them are repped by the same agency as Cherry.”
With that, and a leering sort of grin, he was gone.
“So what do you think? Do I have a shot?” Hailey asked as soon as he left. Her gaze flew around the room as if the infamous agent might have hung a neon sign around his or her neck, just for fun. If she could find the agent, she could pitch her own designs for Cherry. If she could get the agent enthused, she’d have an inside track. Maybe even a guaranteed deal.
Excitement bubbling, Hailey gave the room another searching look. Her gaze landed on Trent, who’d apparently given up on seducing the woman in mesh and was now talking to the sexy Grinch.
Her excitement took on a totally different edge at the sight of that Grinchy butt. The hood of the costume now pushed back, she could see his hair, so black it reflected the blue and white Christmas lights of the tree next to him, wave into the green fur of his collar.
Her nipples tingled against the tight satin layers of her bustier. Her thighs turned to mush, only the sheer red silk of her stockings holding them together.
Oh, yeah. He was definitely the hot, kinky, sexy type of guy.
All she had to do was look at him and she was more excited than she’d been with any of the lovers she’d ever had. Or even all of them, combined.
And all she was gazing at was the back of his head. That was better than being turned on by his furry back, wasn’t it?
Her breath a little on the shallow side, she sighed and wondered how great it’d be to strip that ugly fur off and see what kind of body was beneath the costume. Could it be as sexy as she was imagining? Long and lean, with strong thighs and washboard abs? Shoulders she could cling to as she rode him like a wild stallion?
She’d just flown a few miles closer to catching her shooting star. Didn’t she deserve a treat? Could she do it? Go talk to him? Ask his opinions on hot, kinky sex. Leather or lace. Roses or studs.
Her face, throat and chest all on fire now, either with lust or embarrassment, Hailey quickly drank the rest of her champagne and exchanged the glass with a passing waiter, hoping the bubbles would cool the fire blazing in her belly.
“Hailey, darling? Where’d you go? I’ve been filling you in on all of the Rudolph stores’ holiday plans and you haven’t said a word. What’s got you so distracted?”
Unwilling to admit the horrifying truth, that she was all hot and horny for a guy whom she’d only seen from the side and back, both of which were covered in puke-green fur, Hailey tore her gaze away and gave Jared an apologetic look.
“Nothing. Just, you know, wondering if that guy Trent’s talking to might be Cherry’s agent,” she improvised.
Almost on tiptoes to see around the crowd, Jared peered in the direction of the bar. Then he gave a shrug.
“No clue.” He looked again, this time giving a little hum of appreciation. His eyes were as wide as the buttons on the front of his gingerbread suit as he fanned one hand in front of his face. “I’ll be happy to go find out, though.”
She looked over again herself, wondering what had got his attention.
And almost fell to the floor, thanks to her weak knees.
Oh, baby.
The Grinch was gorgeous.
Her lust cells stood up and did a victory dance, vindicated in their attraction.
Her brain couldn’t argue.
Because the man was definitely lust-worthy.
Raven-black hair swept back from his forehead in soft waves, framing a face that would make Michelangelo weep. Sharp planes, strong lines and intense brows were balanced by full lips and wide eyes. Even though she couldn’t tell the color, she was sure those were the most gorgeous eyes she’d ever seen.
For the first time in forever, Hailey didn’t know what she wanted more.
Success? Or the man across the room.
“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