for a prestigious firm. She's very big on personal achievement. About my grandmother, though ..."
Her voice trailed off.
"The one you call Tiger Lady?"
"For heaven's sake, don't call her that tonight. The closest Chinese translation is, uh, not respectful." She sighed. There was no way to explain Grandmother. One had to experience her. "Just treat her as if she were royalty."
HE WAS MAKING mistakes with her. Rule knew that, but he couldn't seem to stop. He wanted to claim her, and he didn't want to wait. But whenever he let his urgency slip out, she retreated.
Lily wasn't sure about him. That was only natural. Even if he hadn't been what he was, she would have wanted time to know him, to know her own mind. He understood. He even agreed. But his blood was up, and the discipline of years was stretched taut just by being with her.
It didn't help to know she was as attracted as he, however she tried to hide it.
Tonight's date was about as safe as a first date could be, he thought wryly as they entered the restaurant. They were on her turf, surrounded by her family. He would rather have taken her someplace quiet and private, someplace where he could look at her as much as he liked. Touching would have been nice, too. But it eased something inside him to look at the curve of her throat or the slightly crooked incisor that only showed when she grinned. "You have a lot of relatives," he murmured.
The restaurant itself was less obviously oriental than he'd expected. The tables were round, white-draped, with western Only Human
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place settings. A few people sat at those tables, but most milled around—easily fifty in this room, he estimated, and there was at least one more section to the restaurant. All wore evening dress, with many of the men in tuxedos. He'd wondered about that. A tux had seemed excessive for a family birthday party.
He'd worn it anyway; Lily had said the party was formal, and he admitted to possessing his share of vanity. He looked good in a tux.
"I'm not related to everyone. Just most of them." She slanted him an amused glance. "Grandmother is probably holding court on the terrace. We'd better find her and deliver this."
She lifted the small, elegantly wrapped box in her left hand.
"It may take awhile. You do draw attention."
It took awhile. Rule was tense, hyperalert in the way typical of this time of the month, his balance a delicate thing. Scents and sounds assaulted him with every new person to meet and charm. Outside, unseen, the moon was yet unrisen, but he felt it sliding nearer the horizon with every pulse. The sensation was pleasant, but distracting.
The discipline of years helped him stay focused on the room and the need to mask his feelings. He was helped by his curiosity about these people—Lily's people—and by his awareness of the woman at his side. That, too, was a sweet distraction pulsing through him, making even the moon's call less compelling.
It didn't take long for him to note a common theme in the comments of her relatives. The unspoken text emerged in jokes that weren't quite funny, in sympathetic comments or the blanks left by avoiding one particular subject.
Lily's family didn't approve of her job. They didn't want her to be a cop.
On their way to the terrace he met cousins, uncles, aunts, one of Lily's sisters and her date, along with miscellaneous offspring, spouses, or significant others. And he met Lily's mother.
Julia Yu was a slim, elegant woman who towered over her daughter by nearly a foot. She had beautiful hands, very little chin, several pounds of hair piled in elaborate twists on top of her head, and Lily's eyes. They opened wide when she saw his face.
She recovered quickly, greeting Rule with a polite smile.
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EILEEN WILKS
She smelled faintly of herbal soap and hair spray. "I didn't place your name at first, Mr. Turner, but your face is instantly recognizable. I'm so glad you could join us tonight."
"I'm delighted she asked me," he said with
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