Are you drawn to any particular designer?”
There was that intense look again.
Hailey started to pitch her own line, then bit her lip. Maybe it was better to charm him first, before he realized she was one of the designers. That way, then she could gently lead him into the idea of Cherry and Merry Widow being the perfect match. She’d noticed one thing in this past year of trying to sell her wares—the minute someone thought you were pitching something, they went on the defensive.
Her gaze roamed over the masculine beauty of his face, making her sigh. Nope. She’d much rather he be receptive to anything she had to pitch.
So she shrugged instead and said, “There are a lot of great looks here tonight. I think it’d be fun to try to match each one to their perfect person.” Hailey wanted to bounce in her Manolos, she was so proud of that subtle hint. Kinda like subliminal sales. She’d just lay a few bread crumbs here and there, and he could nibble his way to her line of thinking. “That’s the key to a great design, isn’t it? That it enhance the features, the personality, of the person wearing it.”
“Do you really think there’s someone that suits all of these, um, outfits?” he asked over the band, who’d turned their amps up louder now that people were hitting the dance floor. He gave a pair of sequined hot pants and a satin, cropped tee a doubtful look before arching a skeptical brow. Maybe because the outfit was the same nauseating green as his fur.
“I think everyone, and everything, has a perfect match,” she said. Then she grimaced, worried her enthusiasm might be taken the wrong way—as if she were about to chase him down like a lovesick crazy woman who was looking for happy-ever-after forever promises. Instead of the right way, which was that they should get naked and see what happened when their bodies got sweaty together.
What’d happened to her? Hailey was almost as shocked at her body’s reaction—instant horniness—as she was at her wild thoughts.
She rubbed one finger against her temple, as if she could reset her normal inhibition levels. She needed to stick with cheap champagne from now on. Clearly she couldn’t handle the expensive stuff.
“What type of lingerie would match you perfectly?” he wondered aloud. His tone was teasing, but the look on his face made her stomach tumble as the lust spun fast, tangling with nerves.
To hell with resetting her inhibitions.
This was way more fun.
Her perfect match was a man who was there for her. Who wanted her for the long-term, not just for a convenient window of time. Perfect was fabulous sex, unquestioning support, faith in her abilities and enough love to want to actually dig in deep and be a part of her world, instead of flitting around the convenient edges.
But that was all someday thinking.
Tonight? Tonight perfect was dressed in green fur.
As if he heard her thoughts, the flirtatious heat faded from Gage’s demeanor and his smile shifted from seductive to charmingly distant.
Hailey frowned as his look intensified, as if he were inspecting the far corners of her soul. The parts she kept hidden, even from herself.
Was he reading her mind when his eyes got all deep and penetrating like that? Did he know she was wondering if he was her match? Or was he the kind of guy who’d run, screaming with his furry tail between his legs, if he had a clue she was interested in more than business?
Before she could wonder too much about it, though, the floor show kicked off. All of the models hit the dance floor, “Gangnam Style.” And Gage’s attention shifted, so the heat in Hailey’s belly had a chance to cool a little.
“Now, that’s entertainment,” he said with a laugh, wincing as more than one model had to grab her chest to keep it from flying out while dancing.
“It’s getting wild,” Hailey agreed, both amused and impressed at the same time. Wild or not, her designs looked great out there. Feminine and sexy. And it was nice to know her lingerie could dance horsey style.
“What do you say?” Gage asked, leaning in close so his words teased her ear. Hailey shivered, her nipples leaping to attention and her mind fogging again. “Want to get out of here?”
Despite her nipples’ rapid agreement, Hailey hesitated.
She was willing to do a lot for her company. She was willing to do almost anything to get this contract. But while she was insanely attracted to Gage, she wasn’t sure leaving with him was something she’d be proud of once the champagne cleared her system.
Correctly reading her hesitation, Gage gestured to the glass doors.
“How about a walk through the conservatory? It’ll be quieter. We can talk, get away from the, um, dancing.”
As if echoing his words, the music shifted to a raunchier beat. Hailey winced as the dancers shifted right along with it.
A walk. That was safe. They would still be in a fairly public arena and she’d be close enough to the party to remind herself that this was business. That should keep her from trying to rip that fur off Gage’s body to see what was underneath.
“Sure,” she agreed, accepting his invitation to tuck her arm into his. She tried to ignore the dance floor, where the hired help was doing a dance version of the upright doggy style. But she couldn’t help blushing. Not because the moves were tacky. But because she wished she could do them, too. She couldn’t, of course. Mostly because she was a lousy dancer.
She could—and should—get out of here before the dancers, and the champagne, gave her any more naughty ideas, though.
“A walk would be lovely.”
* * *
GAGE WELCOMED THE cool night air like an alcoholic welcomed that first hit of gin. With greedy need and a silent groan of gratitude.
He’d been sweating like crazy in there.
Was it because of this god-awful hideous costume?
Or because of his body’s reaction to the sweet, little elf next to him?
It had to be the costume.
Because he never sweated over women.
The lust wasn’t a new thing. He’d spent most of his life surrounded by gorgeous women, so lust was as very familiar to him as breathing.
And it wasn’t as if he had problems mixing business and pleasure. Gage worked with too many beautiful women to hamper himself with silly rules or false moral restrictions.
And while he wasn’t a cocky ass, he’d had enough success with the ladies to feel both comfortable and confident that he could handle anything a woman had to offer.
Nope. He’d never had women problems.
So clearly, it must be the costume.
“Mr. Rudolph puts on quite a party,” Hailey said as she wandered between marble columns wrapped in twinkling white lights. “Do you attend often?”
“This is my first,” he admitted. “How about you?”
Gage didn’t wander. Instead, he scoped the room, found a semisheltered wall and leaned against it. That way, she could come to him. She didn’t, though. Instead, after an inscrutable look through those thick lashes, she shrugged and continued her slow meander through the conservatory.
“This is my first, too. I’ve talked to plenty of people who are involved behind the scenes, though. If the rumors are true, things are going to get pretty wild and naked in there soon.”
Behind the scenes?
She must have a few models in there showing off the wares. Theirs, and the designers. He debated how long to wait and steer the conversation toward some of her other clients. A minute or two, maybe. First he needed to figure her out. Usually by this point, fifteen minutes into their first meet, he’d completely