He'd given Honour a smile as she accepted the flowers. He was glad she liked them. Simple gifts were often the best. That, or expensive ones. That was Lestat's experience anyway.
When Eric walked in, Lestat's eyebrow rose. He remembered what Honour had told him about Eric as well as all the things she'd ask. He was not overly fond of the idea of the other vampire being here, although he *was* curious what his blood had done for the viking.
The eyebrow did not come down, though. How could it with that look on Eric's face? Absurd.
He was doing his best not to skim everyone's thoughts just for the juicy details of all of the looks back and forth. If they kept this up, someone was going to start broadcasting on S.O.S. frequency, and that was not going to be his fault. Something was going on, or had gone on. It was plain on Dinah's face. One did not need the Mind Gift to see or sense this.
Lestat was no longer looking directly at her, but he could hear Honour's blood rush to her face, as well as the change in the beat of her heart.
Fucking Eric.
... I had a good time.
Lestat's nostril's flared. His hearing was far too good not to catch that. With a slight, and only very slight, grimace on his face, he continued to look at the book shelf in front of him, choosing a leather-bound volume off of it and leafing through it. He was thankful that he had more... well, self-control was not the word... but whatever... than he had in his younger years.
He strode to the section where the Anne Rice books should be, searching for the 'fiction' he was responsible for.