"I'm happy for you, Father," Christian said sincerely as he slapped him firmly on the back. "I like Marguerite."

"Thank you," Julius murmured.

"And now that we've made the bargain," he added with a grin as they stepped back from each other. "I can tell you that I would have helped you anyway, even if you hadn't agreed to tell me who my real mother is."

When Julius raised one eyebrow, Christain shrugged and added, "You forget I'm not as ruthless as you. I could never stand between you and someone who might help you forget my mother and be happy again."

Laughing at his expression, Christian stepped away and moved around the table to settle in the second chair. "So, with Marguerite in the bath, we have at least an hour to come up with a good excuse to have you stick close to her. She liked long baths when we were in California and I doubt that's changed," he added for Julius's sake, as he set a pad of hotel stationery in front of him on the table.

Nodding, Julius moved to reclaim his own chair as Marcus snagged the chair at the dressing table and brought it over to join them.

"The easiest way to handle this is probably to stick as close to the truth as possible," Christian said thoughtfully. "Obviously it will have to include the attack on her."

Julius watched him warily, but didn't comment.

"We can tell her that you suspect the attack was perpetrated by my mother's family, that the Morrissey agency's taking on the case and leading it into England has made them nervous and they will try to stop it any way they can."

Julius's eyes widened incredulously. "How did you-?"

"I'm not an idiot, Father," Christian interrupted dryly. "The attack has to do with the case and since I know you wouldn't sink so low, that leaves my mother's family. Obviously, someone besides you doesn't want me learning my maternal origins. Besides, the only good reason for you to keep the secret all this time is to protect me."

"Your mother ordered you killed at birth," Marcus announced quietly.

Julius turned a glare on the man for revealing that and then glanced back to his son. Anger and pain for the lad mingled in his own heart as he saw the stark expression on his face, and then Christian quickly looked down to the pad he was doodling on, hiding it. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

"Right, so it's probably her family behind the attack on Marguerite. Unless my mother's really still alive, then I guess it could be her."

When he raised a questioning glance, Julius hesitated, but kept silent in the end, unwilling to reveal if that was the case.

"At any rate," Christian continued on a sigh when his father remained stubbornly silent. "I'll tell Marguerite that-out of fear for me-you finally revealed that my mother tried to kill me at birth and you suspect her people are behind the attack earlier. That despite this, I want to continue the investigation and that while you refuse to reveal any more, you have decided to remain with us to ensure our safety until we give up, or to be on hand should we solve the case."

Christian paused and considered the plan and nodded. "That should ensure she stops thinking you're a stubborn ass for not telling me who my mother is."

Julius stiffened at these words, but Christian was still talking.

"And paint you in a more favorable light, as well as give you a reason to stay close to her." He paused and eyed his father. "The rest, unfortunately, is up to you."

"Unfortunately?" Julius echoed in a warning growl.

"Well," Christian grimaced. "Father, I don't know what you were like when you were younger, but you aren't exactly a Romeo type now, are you? I mean, the maids at the house and the secretaries in the office are terrified of you, and-"

"I do know how to woo a woman," Julius interrupted dryly. When Christian didn't hide his doubt, he scowled and insisted, "I do."

"Hmm," Christian murmured doubtfully.

"I do have some experience with the opposite sex, Son," he said condescendingly. "I haven't lived like a monk all my life. In fact, I used to be something of a rogue in my day."

"I'm sure you were," Christian said soothingly, and then added, "But your day was a hell of a long time ago, Father. Times have changed, women have changed..." He shrugged. "You might need a little help is all I'm saying."

Julius frowned as the words began to raise uncertainty in him. It had been a long time since he'd wooed a woman. In fact, he hadn't since his son's birth, instead, concentrating on keeping him safe and being a father as well as running the family company. But surely things hadn't changed that much?

"Don't worry, Father. I'll help out," Christian said encouragingly. "And I'll really build you up to Marguerite. I'm sure it will be fine."

"I'll help too."

Julius glanced around in surprise as Dante pushed himself away from the frame of the door leading into the rest of the suite. He'd obviously been there listening for some time, Julius realized with irritation as he watched him lead his twin, Tommaso, into the room.

"How long have you two been standing there?" he asked with irritation as Dante dropped onto the bed and leaned his back against the headboard.

"I think we heard most everything," Tommaso admitted as he took the other side of the bed. He crossed his legs at the ankle, clasped his hands on his lower stomach, and recited, "Marguerite's your lifemate. Christian's mother tried to kill him and is probably behind an attack on Marguerite that we apparently missed. And you need help wooing Marguerite. I don't think we missed anything."

"No, you didn't," Christian agreed with amusement. He then smiled at Julius and said, "See? We're all on your side. You'll have lots of help wooing Marguerite."

"God help me," Julius muttered, scrubbing one hand wearily through his hair.

Marguerite opened her eyes and grimaced as she immediately became aware of the unpleasant chill to her bathwater. She'd fallen asleep in the tub and it seemed obvious from the temperature of the water and the lack of bubbles remaining that she'd slept for a good length of time. Her guess would have been that she'd slept for half an hour, though she didn't have a watch to see if she was right.

She did feel better for the sleep, though it made up for the disturbed night she'd had, thanks to the first and second attack.

Humming to herself, Marguerite turned on the hot water to warm up the bathwater and then quickly finished her bath, shampooing and applying cream rinse to her hair before running a soapy washcloth over all the bits she'd missed earlier. She then got out, toweled off, dressed, and quickly dried her hair.

Marguerite didn't bother with makeup except to apply some lipstick. She then gathered her things together and carried them out to put them in her suitcase. She paused when it came to Tiny's robe, considering returning it to him so he could pack it with his things. After a moment, however, she decided she could return it to him when they got to the new hotel, and threw it in her suitcase as well. After a quick check to be sure she had everything, Marguerite zipped up the suitcase with some relief. She was oddly eager to finish and get out of the room. For some reason, being in there was now giving her the creeps.

Strange, she thought, since she hadn't felt that way when she'd first returned to the room to collect things for her bath. But right now, she felt as if someone was watching her.

Marguerite started to glance toward the curtained wall facing the terrace, but caught herself. She was suddenly sure there was someone there, peering through the small gap where the curtains didn't quite meet, and she didn't want them to know she knew.

Leaving the suitcase for now, she moved to the table and chairs set in front of one side of the terrace doors, but didn't sit. She bent and pretended to write a note on the hotel stationary, scribbling nonsense in the hopes of relaxing anyone who might be outside her balcony doors. Marguerite then straightened as if to head back the way she'd come, but instead, lunged for the curtain and jerked it open.

Even though she'd suspected someone might be out there, she still took a startled step back, a surprised shout slipping from her lips when she spotted the dark figure peering at her through the window.

Marguerite wasn't the only one startled. When the curtain was pulled back allowing light from the hotel room to spill over him, the figure on the terrace leapt back as if scalded. The action sent him bumping into a chair, knocking it over. He reached for it as if to straighten, but then whirled away to run to the right. Marguerite stared after him until the curtain still in place blocked her view, and then realized he was getting away and lunged for the terrace doors.

Four.

"Marguerite?" Tiny's shout made her glance over her shoulder to see the mortal rush into the room, hard on the heels of the slightly swifter Christian, Marcus, and Julius.

"There was someone on the terrace," she explained. Marguerite had barely started to pull the door open when strong hands grabbed her by the upper arms and lifted her out of the way. It was Julius Notte she saw as he set her down out of the way.

"Stay with her," he barked.

Marguerite blinked in confusion at the order as he whirled to follow the other three men out onto the terrace. It was a shuffle of sound by the door that made her glance around to see Dante Notte and his twin Tommaso crossing the room toward her. Apparently she'd taken so long at her bath that all the men had packed and met in the living room to wait for her.

Marguerite didn't stay to ask, though; instead she hurried out onto the terrace after the others.

"There's no one here," Christian said as she joined them in the warm evening air.

Marguerite glanced around, ignoring the two mountains, Dante and Tommaso, as they caught up and stationed themselves on either side of her.

"Are you sure you didn't just see a shadow?" Julius asked quietly.

Marguerite clucked her tongue with irritation. Tiny had thought she'd imagined an attacker that morning until he'd seen the nick on her neck and blood on her collar. And now Julius was questioning what she'd seen as well. Honestly! Why was it men seemed to think all women were hysterical twits? Or was it just her?

"He knocked over that chair when I opened the curtain and startled him," she said impatiently, gesturing to the chair on its side. "I didn't imagine anything."

All five men glanced to the chair then, but it was Tiny who walked over and set it back on its legs. As he straightened from the task, he said, "This wasn't on its side when I came out here after Marguerite's attacker this morning."

The men immediately spread out, looking over the railing along the edge of the terrace as well as peering up toward the roof of the building in search of some sign of the man she'd seen or where he might have gone. Knowing they wouldn't find anything, Marguerite shook her head and moved back into her room. She was extremely annoyed that it had taken Tiny's saying that the chair hadn't been disturbed earlier for them to believe she'd seen someone. She wasn't the sort to imagine things.

Movements stiff and jerky, Marguerite collected her purse and slid it over her shoulder. She then wheeled her suitcase out into the living room, leaving it by the door to the hall with the other suitcases. It looked like everyone had packed up and brought their luggage with them when they'd come to meet in the sitting room of the suite she and Tiny shared. Obviously, she and Tiny weren't the only ones switching hotels, though she was hoping only Christian and the twins were coming and that Julius and Marcus had been convinced to go home and not interfere. Or to simply tell Christian who his mother was.

Wondering which it was, Marguerite walked to the refrigerator, opened it, and then scowled when she saw that all it held was food and alcohol. Mortal food and alcohol.

Her gaze slid to the small red cooler on the table, but she didn't bother to look inside. She'd finished off the last bag of blood in it just before they'd left for the long drive down to London. Marguerite had called Bastien before retiring the morning before they'd set out on the drive. She'd wanted to check on how her daughter, Lissianna, was doing as well as ask him to arrange for more blood to be sent to the hotel she'd be staying at. But, of course, it hadn't yet arrived. They'd arranged for it to be delivered around eight P.M. to be sure she was up and around. Marguerite had suspected she'd be so tired after the drive that she'd probably sleep late tonight. Of course, Julius had prevented that.

Glancing at her watch as she straightened, Marguerite grimaced when she saw that it was only a little after seven. The delivery would probably arrive right after they checked out, she thought gloomily. That just seemed to be the kind of day she was having.

"There you are."

Marguerite turned at those words to see Julius leading the rest of the men into the living room.

"Did you find anything?" she asked dryly, already suspecting she knew the answer. Marguerite wasn't surprised when he shook his head.

"Tiny mentioned earlier that the two of you decided to switch hotels today and I think it's a wise idea," Julius announced as he crossed the room toward her. "Marcus says Claridge's is a nice hotel, so I reserved rooms there for all of us."

"Us?" Marguerite asked, eyebrows rising.

Julius took in her expression and met her gaze as he said, "Us. I understand your concern, but I assure you I had nothing to do with either the attack on you this morning or the man skulking on the terrace just now."

Marguerite tried to slip into his mind to see if he spoke the truth. She would have tried to find out the name of Christian's mother at the same time, but she came up against a blank wall in his mind. She couldn't read the man. Marguerite wasn't terribly surprised. Her instincts had been telling her all along that he was much much older than herself.

Of course, her instincts might be wrong and her inability to read him could mean something else altogether. Were he a mortal, or an immortal but younger than she, the fact that she couldn't read him would have been a sign that he was her lifemate. But he wasn't mortal and reading immortals was a tricky business. She might not be able to read him, but it didn't mean he couldn't read and control her. And she wouldn't touch that with a ten foot pole. It looked like they would have to find Christian's mother the hard way.

Julius waited another moment, but when she didn't comment, he said, "Shall we go?"

Marguerite wanted to argue that she'd rather he stayed here while she and Tiny moved, but merely picked up her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and moved toward the door.

"Dante will take your luggage," Julius said quietly, taking her arm to stop her when she paused at the door and reached for the handle of her suitcase.

Marguerite stilled at his touch, her stomach giving a little jump. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then nodded and turned toward the door when he urged her that way. He held it open for her and walked her up the hall, leaving the others to follow.

They walked in silence, striding at a quick clip that came to a stumbling halt when Julius tried to steer her past the elevators and she dug in her heels.

"We will take the service elevator," he announced, urging her forward.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously as they continued up the hall.

"Because someone may be watching the lobby and it does little good moving from one hotel to another if we let them follow us to it," he explained patiently.

Marguerite's mouth tightened with irritation...at herself. She should have thought of that. She was supposed to be a detective. Of course, she could say she was a concert pianist, but that wouldn't give her the skill to be one. Perhaps she should have looked into P.I. training before taking on a case. Is there a P.I. school? she wondered.

"We have a car here," Tiny announced, distracting her.

"They probably know about that too and will be watching it as well," Julius said. "Who did you rent it from? I'll arrange to have it collected by the agency when we get to Claridge's."

While Tiny answered the question, Marguerite's eyes narrowed with displeasure at the thought of losing their transportation.

Catching the look, Julius ran what appeared to her to be a frustrated hand through his hair. She thought she must have been mistaken though when he calmly pointed out, "You can call another agency and rent another car."

Marguerite nodded and forced herself to relax as they reached the service elevator. They were inside and the doors were closing when Tiny asked, "What if they have someone watching the service entrance too?"

Julius frowned at the suggestion and began to drum his fingertips against his leg. She suspected it was an unconscious action he committed when thinking, because after a moment the drumming stopped and he said, "Give the keys of your rental to Dante. He and Tommaso can take the car out for a spin to hopefully lead anyone away and give us the chance to slip out the service entrance unnoticed."

Dante turned to Tiny expectantly, but it was Marguerite who handed him the keys, retrieving them from her purse.

"She rented a Jaguar," Tiny muttered, appearing embarrassed that she had been driving during this trip. "It was manual. I don't drive stick."

"I do," Dante said with a grin as he took the keys.

The grin died, however, when Julius announced, "You'll have to take the luggage with you. I want us all in one taxi and the luggage won't fit. Besides, if they happen to see you get in the car and spot the luggage, they'll assume you are moving us all to other accommodations while we could just simply be on a jaunt. Hopefully, it will make them follow you."

Dante and Tommaso groaned at the announcement, but didn't protest and simply began to relieve the others of their luggage.

"I want you to call us if you're followed once you leave the hotel," Julius added. "We'll wait here until we hear from you."

Dante nodded, and then glanced to the doors as the elevator slowed to a halt and the doors slid open. He and Tommaso disembarked first, taking the luggage with them. They were quite weighed down, and Marguerite peered after them with sympathy as they trudged off with their burden, heading for the parking garage.

"They will be fine," Julius said, urging her to move.

Marguerite nodded but remained silent as he walked them to the service entrance to await the call to let them know the twins had left in the car.

The men all began to pace as they waited: Julius, Tiny, Christian, and Marcus doing a small circuit before her. Marguerite simply leaned against the wall, absently tapping one toe as she watched Julius pace. He reminded her of a caged tiger.

They all stilled and looked to Julius when his phone finally rang. He slipped it from his pocket, flipped it open, listened briefly, and then said, "Get the license plate number and drive around for about ten minutes, then park back here and catch a taxi to Claridge's. Use the service exit when you leave."

"Were they followed?" Marguerite asked curiously.

"Yes, they were."

She nodded but didn't comment as they stepped outside.

Julius paused briefly, his gaze moving around the area and Marguerite found herself watching him again. His expression was grim, his eyes alert as he looked for any threat, and she knew without any doubt that he had once been a warrior of old. She could imagine him on horseback, hand on his sword, that very same expression creasing his face. He would have been formidable, she was sure.