Rhys might have taken a little much, but Chantal quickly guided the wobbly Melissa to chaise. Soon the pair had plates and drinks, eager to watch the show. Both the one on the stage below and the one going on just across the room.
If the boy had growled at him, Joseph might have growled back playfully. He certainly wouldn't have been offended by Rhys' natural reaction to being pulled off prey. He was a fledgling, with almost no knowledge of what he'd become and his place in the world. Holding such a thing against someone so neglected was absurd.
Joseph never professed to possessing any talents himself, that was why he was so admirable and supportive of those who were so gifted and shared it with the rest of the world. But it was a faux bit of modesty. Joseph had been seducing anyone and everyone who caught his attention since he was fifteen years old. He knew how to play to an audience as well as any of the actors who'd ever graced one of his stages. Nearly a century and a half of wooing his way through life had finely honed his romantic techniques. Poor Rhys probably never stood a chance once Joseph set his sights on him.
He doubted the quaver in Rhys' voice was nerves. More excitement. He was well aware those green eyes were focused on him alone. Good. That's exactly what Joseph wanted. Sitting down on the chaise, Joseph immediately draped himself across the younger Kindred's lap, his head pillowed against his thigh and the arm of the settee.
He smiled up at Rhys. "You have no idea how I've been looking forward to tonight," he murmured, for now, he kept his hands to himself. He needed to have a little patience, he didn't want to completely overwhelm the boy to the point of frightening him off.