“So, have I made up for Jonas forcing you to wear your special dress?” he leaned closer as he asked the question, a hint of laughter in the rough voice.
Gypsy flushed at the reminder of her comments regarding the ball and how it interfered with her plans for the one she’d had her dress designed for. “I owe you an apology for that.” She sighed as he took flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. “I didn’t mean anything offensive. Rightfully so, whenever the Breeds are present, attention focuses on them. It’s just that my parents have worked so hard to draw attention to their image consulting firm—”
“Enough, sweetheart.” The grin that curled his lips was far too sexy. “According to Callan’s sister, Dawn Lawrence, it was indeed a sacrifice you were making.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “You told her what happened?”
She had actually met Dawn Lawrence several times when she’d traveled to Window Rock with her husband, Seth. Dawn was quiet and amazingly astute and possessed such a dry wit that she and Gypsy had gotten along wonderfully during the two hours the other woman had spent in the candy shop.
“Not hardly, she would have hit me with something,” he snorted. “I merely proposed a hypothetical situation and she looked at me as though I were to be pitied while informing me of what a colossal ass a man would be to allow such a thing to happen.”
Yeah, she could see Dawn telling him exactly that.
“I was angry with you,” she informed him. “You can be amazingly arrogant, Mr. Breaker.”
And so very wickedly sexy.
She hadn’t been able to forget his touch, or the pleasure she’d found in it. That didn’t mean she wasn’t very well aware of the decision she would be making by becoming his lover.
She was twenty-four years old, and in the years since she’d caused her brother’s death and made her bargain with the Unknown, she’d never desired a man more than she desired atoning for the life she’d helped those Coyotes to take.
Each time she’d considered taking a lover, guilt had swept over her. If the Unknown learned of it, she would be forced out of the small circle her brother had been a part of. She would no longer be able to continue his dream to help ensure the Breeds’ survival.
And if she wasn’t there, picking up the information it seemed others missed, then there was every chance it would result in a death somewhere, somehow, because she had once again cared more for herself than for those at risk.
If she ignored the need burning inside her any further, though, then it might well destroy her anyway. It was like a flame she couldn’t extinguish. A hunger she couldn’t ease. And she knew—to the depths of her soul, she knew—that she wouldn’t be able to deny him tonight.
For the past week her need for him had taken on a life of its own. A craving she couldn’t seem to shake for the taste of his kiss, the touch of his hands. At times, she could actually feel her womb tightening, tensing with the need to find release from his touch again. And no matter how often she’d tried to masturbate, suddenly the touch of her own fingers was completely ineffective.
Rule turned her on to the point that her body hadn’t stopped burning since the second she had laid eyes on him two months before.
Finishing the champagne, Gypsy set her empty glass on a nearby tray, watching as Rule talked to his brother and Diane.
Diane stared back at her with a twinkle of amusement in her gaze as they waited.
“One of these days, I’m going to buy one of those nifty little hearing aids that amplify conversations around me,” Gypsy remarked, her voice low, though she knew Rule would still hear every word. “I’m simply too nosy.”
Diane gave a low, light laugh. “You learn how to wait patiently while they’re together.”
Gypsy’s brow lifted dubiously. Wait patiently?
“Oh, I rather doubt I’d learn that fine art,” she commented. “Unless I knew my curiosity would be appeased later, that is.”
“There’s always the chance,” Diane assured her as her fiancé winked back at her, then turned back to Gypsy, her expression filled with warm amusement. “So, are you looking forward to actually pushing that particularly growling Lion into society? I think I’d be intimidated.”
“Intimidated, no. Certain it will work?” Gypsy laughed. “I have a feeling he’ll actually own the Navajo Nation once he’s finished. Though, trust me, my parents are looking forward to it as well,” Gypsy assured her. “Dad’s been attempting to gain the notice of the Ruling Cabinet for years with his alternative methods of image and social marketing.”
“It’s something that certainly won’t hurt. And I must say”—Diane stared around the brightly lit extravagance of the ballroom—“being spoiled in such a manner once in a while is rather nice.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll enjoy the social side of the process that Mom and Dad have planned,” Gypsy assured her. “The plan Dad’s putting together for you and your fiancé is one of his best. I think you’ll approve.”
Diane’s brows lifted. “Shouldn’t Lawe be the one to approve it?”
Gypsy tilted her head and regarded the other woman seriously. “In most cases, men leave social organization to either their secretaries, their lovers or their wives. I’ve never seen and rarely heard of a man who enjoyed making certain his own social schedule worked with the image he needed to present. In most cases, they’re neither aware nor do they care which party they attend, as long it’s a business opportunity. It’s their wives who know to cultivate friends among business associates, and to ensure those that are cultivated are a general match to the lifestyle and interests they share as well.”
Diane watched her closely then. “And for Rule, how will you cultivate his image with no wife or lover to help him choose the friends and business associates that match the life he leads outside the office? Or the life he wants to lead?”
“There’s a process,” Gypsy assured her before briefly explaining the observation and evaluation process before a detailed social agenda was proposed.