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 hadpacked 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 forthem 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