She wore her mother’s emerald, sapphire and diamond necklace, the tiny jewels gleaming against her sun-kissed skin like tiny brilliant stars. Sapphire and diamond posts glittered at her earlobes, while the emerald tennis bracelet emphasized and drew attention to the sapphire and diamond ring she wore on her right hand.
The jewelry emphasized rather than overwhelmed the gown, while her lightly tanned skin glowed from the colors laid against it. Her green eyes appeared darker, the addition of shadowed, muted colors of her makeup about them giving her a sultry, mysterious look while the glossy light bronze lipstick drew the eye to the soft pout of her lips.
Her long dark hair was pulled back from her face, the sides held at the top of her head with a diamond-studded comb while tiny individual sapphire, emerald and diamond clips, barely larger than half the size of the head of an eraser, were secured in the waves.
Greta McQuade wore far different colors than her daughter. The bronze A-line chiffon and tulle gown had rich amber embroidered lace shoulders and bodice that covered her from her br**sts to her still-trim hips. Bronze and amber chiffon fell to her matching bronze heels in the front while a short train trailed behind her. Amber teardrops dripped at her ears, while a matching amber gem fell to point just between the tops of her br**sts and amber pins secured the shoulder-length waves of her hair into a neat twist atop her head.
Her father’s black tuxedo was the perfect foil for both his wife and daughter, he’d proclaimed before leaving the house, still despairing over the fact that Gypsy hadn’t invited a guest to accompany her.
She’d almost thought that perhaps Rule would invite her to attend with him. When she hadn’t heard from him after asking him to leave that night, a week before, she’d felt strangely disappointed and more than a little hurt.
The limo drew up to the crowded hotel entrance, waiting as the chauffeur opened the door and several couples exited. She recognized the tall, darkly handsome Dash Sinclair and his wife, Elizabeth, Cassie’s parents. Reaching in after helping his wife from the limo, Dash then drew his ethereally beautiful daughter from the car.
Cameras flashed with an explosion of light as the Sinclairs moved to the hotel entrance and journalists called out for pictures.
There was a brief pause as the small family allowed a few shots before moving inside the hotel. Behind them, the Wolf Breed alpha, Wolfe Gunnar, and his wife, Hope, exited the same limo. The couple paused several times for pictures; the tall, muscular Wolf Breed held his petite wife to his side, unsmiling but not unfriendly.
Mingling along the entrance, Breed Enforcers in their dress uniforms stood alongside many of the more popular faces from the Breed society.
Tanner Reynolds and his wife, Scheme. They were the PR team that had used their charm and natural ability to draw support to pressure several nations into paying handsomely for the fact that many of their government leaders were found to be participating further with the Genetics Council.
Pulling the car to a stop, their chauffeur moved quickly from the front of the car and within seconds was opening the door for her father.
Hansel McQuade reached in and helped his wife from the car, and Gypsy was incredibly pleased to see Jonas Wyatt stepping to them, shaking hands with her father as cameras flashed in a kaleidoscope of light.
Then a hand reached inside to help her exit onto the red carpet.
It wasn’t her father.
She knew that hand.
Intimately.
Gripping it, Gypsy met Rule’s burning gaze as she stepped from the limo, not even caring if a single flash caught the shift of color she’d designed her gown to have if such a thing happened.
Her heart was suddenly racing, her breathing tight and restricted as her flesh tingled at the nearness of his hard, heated flesh.
“Miss McQuade,” he murmured as he drew her to his side. “I trust you’ve been well since I saw you last?”
“Quite well,” she assured him, staring up at him from beneath her lashes as he drew her along the walk. “And you?”
His head lowered, his lips touching her ear. “Hard.”
Gypsy, who never blushed, felt a flush of heat warming her face as pleasure tightened her womb and her pu**y wept, aching for his touch again.
Light exploded around them at that moment, as it seemed every cameraman there wanted a shot of the tall, imposing Breed whispering into the ear of the unknown female on his arm.
Ignoring the questions hurled at them, Rule drew her to the hotel’s entrance and into the lobby behind her parents. Three sets of wide double doors were thrown open to the main ballroom at the top of the wide curving staircase.
They didn’t leave the journalists outside, though. Gypsy felt a glow of satisfaction at the sight of several cameramen taking notice of her parents with Jonas Wyatt and his fiancée, Rachel, as they stopped outside the ballroom to chat.
This was what her parents needed. As much as they loved the candy and gift shop they’d given their younger daughter to run, it was the image consulting business they dreamed of making a success.
“Isn’t your sister attending?” Rule asked as he drew her to a stop several feet from the small group.
“She’s arriving with a date,” she told him quietly. “There’s a Breed who’s been hanging around the store who invited her several weeks ago. She hadn’t even told us.”
Kandy was keeping her relationship with the Breed quiet until she’d learned her parents were attending the same ball she had been invited to attend. Funny, but Greta hadn’t displayed the same disapproval toward her younger daughter as she had Gypsy.