“You aren’t coming back with me?”
“No. Really, Tony, I’m sorry. I was…” …acting like a child… “Misinformed. It’s really embarrassing, but everything’s all right. I’m sure.”
“You don’t sound sure. Where’s D’Alessio?” Out of the corner of her eye, Angelina saw Carmella stiffen. Tony must have, too, because he amended quickly, “Marc.”
“He’s out giving ski lessons to a friend’s daughter. He’ll be back soon.”
Tony shifted his weight. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around? Wait for him to get back off the mountain?”
Clearly Tony didn’t believe she was okay. How could she convince him? She needed to talk with Marc, but she didn’t need to have a testosterone-laden, overprotective big brother interfering.
Carmella cleared her mug and napkin from the table. “I’d better get back to work. Angelina, any time you need to talk, just let me know.”
Tony watched Marc’s sister get up to leave. “We’ll walk back with you. It’s getting dark.”
Angelina tried to hide her smile, feeling sorry for Carmella who was now, by virtue of her feminine parts, on this overprotective Italian male’s radar, too.
Carmella seemed confused before surprising her by smiling at his concern. “This is Aspen. We have a very low crime rate. I walk around alone at night all the time.”
Angelina reached for Carmella’s elbow and led her toward the door. “Don’t even try, Carmella. We’re heading back—together.”
Tony remained at Angelina’s side as they walked down the street, but he didn’t say anything more.
“Carmella, thanks for talking me out of making a big mistake.”
“What are friends for?”
Angelina hurried along, not wanting Tony to stay too late and drive home on near-deserted mountain roads.
“Mr. Giardano, I’m sorry we don’t have any vacant rooms. Otherwise, I’d offer you a place to sleep tonight before heading back.”
“The name’s Tony, and that’s okay. I’m on duty tomorrow morning at the fire station. I need to get back tonight.”
“Tony, I’m so sorry I dragged you up here.” Dio, what a mess she’d made of things for everyone. As they walked into the entrance to the lodge, Angelina said “Look, we’re here, safe and sound. You need to get back on the road before it gets much darker.”
After Carmella said good-bye and excused herself, Tony turned Angelina to face him, placing his hands on her upper arms. “What’s going on, baby girl?”
She sighed. She really had acted like a baby tonight. “Tony, it’s between Marc and me. We just need to talk about some things. I’m sure we’ll clear everything up tonight.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She pulled him down by a hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Tony. I’m going to grow up one of these days.”
He searched her eyes and smiled. “If you do that, then whose dragons can I slay?”
“I’m sure you’ll find some damsel in distress in dire need of her very own knight in shining armor someday. It’ll be a lot more exciting if it’s not your baby sister.”
“But not nearly as much fun.” He tweaked her nose.
She grinned and hugged him before watching him walk back out the automatic doors and down the driveway toward where he’d parked his truck. Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed for the bank of elevators.
Would Marc be back upstairs yet? She hoped not. It would be better if she could unpack her things before he had any inkling of what she’d intended to do. Then maybe they could have a long overdue talk. Clearly she hadn’t completely forgiven him for lying to her in October about who he was—or hadn’t forgotten, at least—but if she wanted to have a long-term relationship with him, she needed to learn to trust him. And forgive.
Angelina waved the key card over the scanner and opened the door on the first try.
“Marco, it’s about time, darling…”
The blood drained from her face as she came face-to-face with a very naked Melissa, her perfect body taunting Angelina. When had Marc invited her up here? Had she approached him on the slopes this afternoon?
“Oh! I thought you were Marco.” She smiled, but the cold, calculating look in her eyes showed no hint of either warmth or remorse. “He told me to wait for him here when I told him you’d left.”
A buzzing sounded in her ears. How could he…? Wait a minute. Marc would never have done that. Not in their room. No, not anywhere. This had to be another one of this bitch’s lies. Angelina needed to trust Marc at least this much and call the bitch’s bluff.
She pushed at the door, forcing Melissa out of the way. “Marc doesn’t share anymore, Melissa. I think you’d better get dressed and get your Spandex-encased ass out of our room.”
Melissa’s jaw dropped. Wonder of wonders, the woman had been rendered speechless at last! Emboldened, Angelina continued, “If you aren’t dressed and out of here in sixty seconds, I’ll call security, and they can drag you down the hall in your birthday suit for all I care. Get out of our room. Now.”
Angelina’s stomach clenched as her heart beat wildly, and she clutched her purse against her midsection, trying to still the queasiness. Standing up to this gorgeous, confident woman had catapulted her so far outside her comfort zone that it wasn’t even funny. Melissa stared Angelina down, taking her measure. A smirk spread across the woman’s lips, causing Angelina a spark of fear.
“Don’t hang onto Marco expecting to inherit any of this.” The woman’s hand swept to encompass the room, although she clearly meant the entirety of the posh, European-style resort owned by Marc’s family. “You’ll be disappointed.”
Angelina loved Marc for who he was, not what his family owned. She refused to rise to the woman’s bait, but that didn’t deter Melissa.
“It’s a good thing he found another little business to get into, because this could never have been his.”
Angelina had no idea what the woman was getting at but didn’t care. “I’d be happy with Marc even if his family was penniless.”
The woman’s black-mascaraed eyes drew together into tiny slits. “Oh, we both know they’re far from penniless. However, Sandro and Carmella are the only ones who have blood rights to this place.” Why was she discussing Marc’s inheritance and family finances with this woman? Before Angelina could formulate a suitable response, Melissa added, “You know he’s not really a D’Alessio, don’t you?”
Angelina’s muscles stiffened. If the woman could say something like that, maybe everything she’d said had been a lie. “Do you have no shame, spreading such lies in order to split us up? Do you honestly think he’d give you a second glance after what you did to him?”
Melissa’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, not lies at all. Marco’s adopted. So was Gino, who told me about it in the only letter he sent me from Afghanistan. Still, the way Mama D’Alessio doted on Gino, I thought he would be running the family business eventually. But Marco never belonged here. And he knows it.”
Angelina put no credence in the woman’s pronouncement but couldn’t resist making it clear to Melissa what she thought of how she’d treated Marc. “Which is why you threw Marc under the bus?”
“I never—!”
“Marc told me you cheated with Gino even though Marc was the D’Alessio who brought you here. Did you forget which brother you were supposed to sleep with, Melissa?”
Melissa clenched her fists, but Angelina held her ground.
Don’t back down from her.
“I’m sure you can understand why I have no faith in anything you tell me. Now get the hell out of our room.”
After one very long, tense moment, Melissa turned and went to the bed where her clothes were strewn about. Angelina tried not to compare the bitch’s perfect body with her own less-than-stellar one.
Marc’s with you, not her.
Damián’s words lifted her spirits. Marc had chosen her over Melissa and many other women from
his past. Angelina stood taller as the affirmation replayed in her head, blocking out all sound until she heard the lock whirr to life and the door open. She turned to find Marc standing there, his gaze going from Angelina to the still-naked Melissa. But his immediate expression of disgust became one of concern as he focused again on Angelina. His foot inadvertently kicked her suitcase by the door as he stepped into the room, but he appeared to dismiss it without a glance and continued toward her.
“Are you okay?” His fingers brushed her left cheek, and she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand.
I am now.
Angelina opened her eyes and smiled as she gazed up at him. Why had she let her old insecurities rise to Melissa’s bait?
“I’m fine now. How are you?”
Chapter Four
Marc glanced at Melissa again before dismissing her and turning back to Angelina. What the fuck had happened in here? “What’s going on?”
“Melissa is about two minutes past the time she was told to be dressed and out of our room.”
He glared at the nipped-and-tucked Melissa, who sped up her efforts to get her dress back on. Hoping to hurry her out even faster, he walked across the room and picked up her damned stilettos, handing them to her.
“Here. You can finish dressing in the hallway.”
“Marco, she…she said some very hurtful things to me. She’s not the woman for you. How can you want to be with that sow instead of me?”
Marc growled and took Melissa by the upper arm as he half-dragged her toward the door. “Because she’s real, Melissa. Not plastic. Not fake. And she loves me for me, not for my bank account.”
“I don’t understand how you could even think that…”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Your privileges at this resort will be revoked as soon as I report this incident to Mama. If I were you, I’d start packing tonight and leave by morning.”
“You have no right…”
“Make no mistake, I have every right.”
Before he could open the door and send her into the hallway, she turned and squared her shoulders. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Marco. You have no rights here. You aren’t even one of them.”
A flashpoint of light bolted across his eyes. “What are you talking about?” What game was she playing now?
Seeming to sense an advantage, she stood taller and grew smug again. “No game. Gino told me that you both were adopted.”
“Bullshit.”
The smile on her lips didn’t warm her cold, calculating eyes. “I still have his letter. If you don’t believe me or Gino’s letter, just ask your mother.”
“I am not going to disrespect Mama with such a question. Now get out and stay the hell away from my family.”
He opened the door and waited for her to exit.
She ignored him. “Mama isn’t going to send me away, Marco. Of that I can assure you.” They stared at each other a moment, neither backing down. At last, she held her nose even higher in the air, turning to leave.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins as it had when he’d arrived on the rooftop in Fallujah. Fight or flight. Why was he letting her affect him this way? Not knowing if Melissa still had a passkey, he closed and bolted the door, engaging the security lock before turning to Angelina.
“Are you okay, Marc?”
“Of course.” The concern he saw on her face puzzled him. Surely Angelina didn’t believe Melissa. Marc would know if he’d been adopted. Mama wouldn’t lie about something like that. His earliest memories of childhood were with Mama, Papa, and Gino.
Clearly, Melissa was up to some new scheme to hang on where she wasn’t wanted. Marc had confided in the woman back in college about how he’d felt growing up, never quite feeling that he fit in here. Not because he had any notion of being adopted, but because he’d wanted something different out of life than his siblings and parents had. Melissa always sensed weakness and went for the jugular to get what she wanted.
“Don’t listen to her. She’s trying to find a way to keep her greedy claws dug deep into my family’s pockets.”
Angelina nodded and came toward him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against his chest. Being with her felt so right, as if he had found a home, a safe place. He relaxed for the first time since he’d found Melissa in their room and cupped Angelina’s chin as he lifted her face to his, bending to kiss her.
She pushed at his chest instead. “No, Marc. We need to talk.”
He tore his gaze away from her full lips but chose to ignore her words as he bent to nuzzle her neck. They hadn’t touched since this morning.
She wrenched herself away. “No!” She bowed her head. “I mean, not yet, anyway.”
Her nipples pebbled, and he ached to take one between his teeth. “Damn your timing, pet. I missed you today.” When he moved toward her, she held up her hands.
“Marc, we need to talk.”
Talk was the last thing Marc needed right now. Undeterred, he pulled her stiff body to him, nipped her earlobe, and whispered. “Talk about what, cara mia? How I’m going to turn you over my knee and spank you until you scream for me as you come?”
She melted into his embrace, but he knew he’d lost her to another stray thought the instant she became rigid again. She retreated. Reaching tonight’s objective of having sex with the woman he loved wasn’t going to be easy if she didn’t show better discipline. She’d improved in her ability to control errant thoughts in recent months as he’d continued to train her in the art of submission. What had happened to throw her off today?
Melissa. It had to be the woman who kept turning up like gum on the soles of his Guccis.
Angelina moved around the foot of the bed, placing the dominant piece of furniture between them. The sight taunted him with the need to throw her onto the mattress and drive himself inside her. Dio, he needed her more than ever tonight.
Merda. All he wanted to do all damned day was get back to Angelina, and now she was fixated on some lie Melissa had told her. Finding his ex naked in their room had nearly doused the fires and brought up memories best kept in the past. His gaze drifted to his gorgeous girl who made him want to—
Wait. He looked down at her luggage sitting next to the door. Something niggled at his brain. “Why is your suitcase out?”
Angelina walked toward the door. “It’s not important anymore.” She took the case by the handle and began dragging it into the center of the room. A broken wheel left a black mark on the floor in its wake. He needed to gift her with some new luggage.
Focus. Broken luggage wasn’t the issue here. He picked up the bag to carry it back to the closet. Definitely not empty. Then he noticed her clothes weren’t hanging next to his any longer.
A sense of dread threatened to overcome him. Marc set the case down and turned toward her. “You were leaving? Without me?”
Leaving me?
What the hell was going on? He’d been out on the slopes for a few hours only to come back and find his whole goddamned world turned upside down.
She took his hand and led him to the foot of the bed. “Come. Sit down.” When she started to sit first, he halted her, sat down, and pulled her into his lap where she belonged. Her dark-brown eyes looked worried and a crease formed between her brows.
He straightened his back. Enough of the games. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Angelina’s chin quivered, making him wonder even more what the fuck was wrong. Was this about the adoption crap Melissa was spouting a few minutes ago? Was Angelina worried there was some truth to him not being a D’Alessio?
No. Forget that. Why would Angelina care one way or another? She wasn’t after the D’Alessio name or fortune.
“Cara, Melissa lies to suit her own purposes. She’s just trying to…”
She shook her head. “It’s not her. Well, not Melissa’s lie anyway.”
Who had lied to her? “Then what?”
She bit her full lower lip to still its quiveri
ng, the lip he should have between his teeth right now. His cock stirred.
She met his gaze, a crease in her brow. “Were you a gigolo?”
Aw, shit. He did not want to talk about those dark days of his youth. He had no doubt where she’d heard about Master Marco. He’d shunned the title of Master at the club and elsewhere, hoping to shed all connections to his ill-spent youth.
How to respond? “A what?”
“Melissa said you used to perform…um, special services here at the resort. She hinted they were of a sexual nature. Is that true?”
Fucking Melissa strikes again.
Marc relaxed and forced a smile to his lips. “I see my reputation lives on.” He brushed the hair behind her ear. When she didn’t smile back, he sighed and grew serious. She needed to know all about him and what he’d been. Truth-telling time, no matter how distasteful it might be to say the words or remember that time in his life.
“It’s not as sordid as Melissa made it sound.” Not that it was wholesome either. Marc took a deep breath and began, “When I was seventeen, a guest at the hotel—a wealthy woman in her forties—introduced me to BDSM. I was bored, out of control really. It wasn’t about sex.” Marc needed to be clear about that from the start. “There was never sex with her or any of the women who followed. No money ever exchanged hands.” Did she really think him capable of that, even all those years ago?
What about…?
Focus.
His pulse raced. Marc pulled her head against his shoulder and stroked her silky hair remembering how he enjoyed brushing it out for her some evenings. Almost as effective as a spanking to relax her.
“Over the next few years, I gained a reputation among her friends—and then their friends—for a willingness to play the Dom in their fantasies. I was more their Service Top, if you will. In-the-know female guests would call me to their rooms or cabins. I wasn’t attracted to the women. I would call this my Dom-in-training period.” He chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. He’d been so fucked up back then. The women had given him a sense of purpose, twisted though it had been.
Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) Page 6