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an excuse for staying near her that won’t reveal you think you’re lifemates.”
    “Blackmail, son?” he asked dryly.
    “Not blackmail. A bargain,” Christian insisted firmly and pointed out, “You don’t have to take it. You could try telling Marguerite that you think she’s your lifemate and have her try to read you and see how she reacts if she can’t.”
    “I may not be able to read her, but she may be able to read me,” Julius pointed out, trying for nonchalance as he reached out and plucked a grape from the fruit bowl and popped it in his mouth. “She may not be my lifemate at all.”

    Christian shook his head, and then pointed out, “You’re both eating.”
    Julius stopped chewing the grape in his mouth, eyes widening as he recognized that he was, indeed, eating. But then he realized that his son had said, “You’re both eating.” Quickly swallowing the grape, he asked, “Marguerite has eaten too?”
    “She pinched a sausage from Tiny’s breakfast when she thought no one was looking,” he announced with a slow smile.
    Julius sat back, a smile coming to his own lips. He’d been through this before, but had forgotten that an immortal’s appetite for food returned when they met a lifemate. He had no idea why that happened. Marcus and he had once discussed it and the only conclusion they’d come to was that the awakening of one appetite brought the others back to life. Sex was glorious, life was grand, and food suddenly had more flavor. Where once it had seemed boring and a waste of time to eat, everything tasted delicious.
    “I’m more than happy to help you out,” Christian announced, drawing his attention once more. He then added, “But I want to know who my mother is.”
    Julius considered him silently, and then said, “Fine. But—” he added firmly before Christian could speak. “The deal is that you keep your mouth shut and help me with a cover story to stay close to Marguerite until everything is sorted out with her , and then I will tell you about your mother.”
    Christian narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “So…after five hundred years of refusing to even talk about her, you’re willing to tell me who my motheris to get Marguerite,” he said slowly and then asked, “Does this mean you’re over my mother?”
    Julius hesitated and then said in a gruff voice, “I’ll never be over your mother, Christian. But I want Marguerite.”
    The words didn’t seem to surprise Christian. He accepted them with a solemn nod and said, “All right. It’s a deal.”
    When the younger man then crossed the room with hand held out to seal the bargain, Julius didn’t shake it, but used it to pull him into a hug.
    “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