Dimitri POV
He made sure he'd locked the door to the opulent bedroom, and turned on some classical music. Berlioz's La Damnation de Faust. That should muffle any sensitive conversations.
Rotating back to Ariana and Maarah, he felt unsettled. Maarah had removed her headscarf and sat on one of the chairs, as casual as if she'd just come for a visit.
Impossible not to see Georgiana in her. But a vampire? His own fault. Why, he'd been so rattled by her reappearance on the beach and at the Restaurant Jules Verne that he completely missed any psychic hints or any telltale signs that even a new vampire would be able to pick up on.
"Maarah," he said, wishing he had something more intelligent to say.
"Dimitri." She also seemed at a loss for words. "Clever of you to disguise yourself."
"We didn't know you were coming," he replied.
