Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [343]
He flipped out his cell phone and began talking even before they were all seated in the limousine. Tegan understood a bit of German from the Old Times, when all of the Breed existed primarily in Europe—enough to know that Reichen was ordering up pricey gowns and shoes in a range of what he guessed to be Elise’s petite sizes.
When he dialed another store and requested a men’s tailor to come out for a custom fitting within the hour, Tegan shot him a threatening look. “What the hell’s going on, Reichen?”
“A reception, of course. I’ll be hosting it at the estate this evening. It’s not often the Berlin Darkhavens get to receive such esteemed company. There are people within the Enforcement Agency in particular who insisted they be allowed to greet you properly.”
“I’ll bet.” Tegan scoffed. “I have no interest in being paraded around like a tuxedoed monkey in front of a bunch of Darkhaven bureaucrats. So, no offense to you, Reichen, but the rest of your stuffed-shirt pals can kiss my—”
The German pointedly cleared his throat as if to remind Tegan that a lady was present and to mind his tongue. Frigging Darkhaven sophisticate and his flawless manners. A rusty old part of Tegan acknowledged that Elise probably didn’t need to hear him go off on the society that had raised her. It wasn’t that long ago that she was very much a part of that world—still would be, if not for the deaths of her mate and her only son.
Reichen smiled, arching a dark brow as Tegan bit back the rest of his ripe thoughts.
But there was some spark of satisfaction gleaming in Reichen’s dark eyes that had little to do with his silver spoon upbringing. It was humor, wry amusement.
“Actually, Tegan, the reception has been arranged in honor of your lovely companion. Perhaps you were not aware that Quentin Chase was one of the most respected figures in the Enforcement Agency, in the States and abroad.” Reichen gallantly inclined his head in Elise’s direction. “It is a great honor for us to receive the late Director Chase’s widow for however long she chooses to stay with us.”
Tegan scowled in the dimly lit vehicle, stealing a glance at Elise. She seemed less surprised than resigned at the announcement, like she was used to the sort of attention Reichen described. Like she lived that kind of rarefied society fuss all the time.
Shit.
She hadn’t been kidding when she said she could bring the entire Enforcement Agency down on the Order with a single phone call. He knew her mate had been well connected, but he’d had no idea how high up the Darkhaven food chain Elise was herself.
“Your hospitality overwhelms me, Herr Reichen…Andreas,” she corrected demurely. “Thank you for welcoming us so graciously.”
Tegan stared hard at her now, seeing how easily she fell into the role of diplomat with Reichen. She hadn’t been so gratingly proper with him last night at the compound. No, with him she’d been wanton and demanding, perfectly willing to use him to get what she needed.
And why the hell not?
He knew how the Darkhavens viewed the Order. With the exception of a few current generation males who’d been impressed by the warriors’ destruction of the Boston-area Rogue lair the summer before, most of vampire society regarded the Order on a par with feral pit bulls. Those within the Enforcement Agency, the group whose policies of capture and rehabilitation operated in direct opposition to the Order’s bag-and-tag methods of dealing with deadly Rogues, were the most vocal in their contempt.
Little wonder that Elise, as the Breedmate of one of their highest ranking officials, would think of Tegan as nothing more than a means to an end.
That he’d let her drink from him burned Tegan like a lick of midday sunlight on his skin. The fact that he craved the woman—even a little bit—made him want to leap out of the moving car and run until he hit the dawn.
Yeah, it was a damn good thing he was seeing her clearly now. Before he allowed