He turned back to the bitchy woman, glancing over her implants before he pierced her with a look colder than the ice outside. "You listen to me, woman. If you ever say anything to hurt her feelings, I will make it my life's mission to ruin you. I can and will have you cut off from whatever financial arrangement you have with my parents. I only have to tell them what happened between us the day of Gino's funeral to show them your true colors."

Melissa's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Marc chose that moment to rejoin Angelina before he did or said something to upset the peace and harmony Mama desired in her home. He hoped she had seated them far enough away from each other that Melissa wouldn't bother Angelina. Melissa would love nothing more than to boost her self-worth at the expense of Angelina's self-esteem, and he wouldn't stand for it.

"Hey, bro!"

Marc grinned with relief and dismissed Melissa as he turned to see Sandro approaching. He hadn't seen his brother since Sandro came to Denver on business more than two months ago. Sandro wore a three-piece suit. Dress shirt and pants were as far as Marc would go most times-and only for Mama or special occasions.

Better you than me, little brother.

The two hugged, and Marc clapped his brother on the back. "How's life?"

"Not bad." The two discussed business at Bella Montagna a while, and Marc congratulated Sandro on some of the improvements he'd noticed, knowing his siblings were responsible for modernizing the resort. Seeing Carmella and Sandro take the reins of the business and thrive in the process made it clear that Marc's decision to join the Navy was the best one he could have made for them, too. Being the youngest of three brothers, Sandro would always have been in the shadow of an older brother, not taken seriously or given much authority. Some of the guilt that had kept Marc away from his family in the past lifted from his shoulders.

"Come meet my girl, Angelina. You're going to love her."

"Alessandro, it's good to see you again."

Marc hadn't noticed Melissa nearby until she spoke. Sandro glanced her way but didn't smile. He gave her a perfunctory, "Melissa. Nice to see you, too." If that's how Sandro treated someone he wanted to date, Marc wouldn't want to be...well, Melissa. Apparently his brother knew what Melissa was after. Maybe Marc didn't have to warn him to stay away from her after all.

Smart kid.

Marc turned to Melissa. "Excuse us, but Sandro hasn't met the guest of honor yet." She glared, none too happy about being supplanted as the center of attention, but Marc took Sandro by the elbow and steered him across the room without a backward glance.

Sandro pulled free of Marc's hand and slapped him on the back. "Thanks for getting me away from her. She's a real piece of...work."

"I'll say." Marc laughed to hide the shudder at the thought of how close he'd come to asking that woman to marry him.

When they reached Angelina's side, Marc waited for a lull in the conversation before introducing his little brother. Angelina smiled at Marc before turning to Sandro. Her face lit up even more. She seemed relaxed now, thank goodness, and stretched her hand out to shake Sandro's, but he wrapped his arms around her instead and welcomed her to the family properly with European kisses. When the hug lasted a little longer than Marc thought appropriate, he tapped on his brother's shoulder.

Sandro laughed and pulled away before saying to her, "Thanks for taming this big guy, Angelina. I've never seen him so happy and relaxed."

Angelina's eyes twinkled as she looked up at Marc. "He makes me really happy, too. I'm not so sure how tame he is-yet-but I'll keep working on him."

More than taming, she had brought a sense of peaceful contentment to his life. He'd never been so comfortable in his own home before-hell, in his own skin, for that matter.

Most of the time.

Sandro grinned at Marc. "You were right. I like her a lot."

Marc watched a blush spread over Angelina's cheeks as she looked down. Damn, woman. Cut that sexy shit out or we aren't going to make it through dinner.

"Happy New Year!"

Marc turned at the sound of Gramps's booming voice. He hadn't seen the man since Adam and Karla Montague's wedding a few weeks ago and went to give him a bear hug. Just like at the wedding, Karla's grandmother, Vivian Paxton, was by his side. This must be getting serious. Marc grinned. Good for them.

"Angelina, I don't know if you had time to stop catering to the guests long enough at Adam and Karla's reception to meet my grandfather, but let me be sure to introduce you now."

"Ah, the fair Angelina! Of course, we've met." Gramps took Angelina's hand and bent over it, planting a kiss on her knuckles. "Vivian and I still haven't stopped talking about that wonderful meal you served at the reception."

Marc loved seeing the light shining in her eyes at the compliment, or perhaps it was there because of the charm the old Marine exuded. He'd always had a way with the ladies.

A little later, Mama guided everyone to the dinner table. Marc was pleased to see she'd seated Angelina on Papa's right, as the guest of honor, but he hated that, as the oldest son at the table, he had been relegated to Mama's right at the opposite end. Keeping his girl's nervousness at bay with under-the-table touches was out of the question, but Mama was nothing if not formal and Old World about such things.

Gramps sat across from Marc while Angelina faced Vivian. Marc commiserated with Gramps who wouldn't get to cop any feels with his girl, either, in this seating arrangement. Seeing how demonstrative the two were, Marc had no doubt the hot-blooded octogenarian did so at every opportunity.

Sandro and Carmella sat across from each other, Sandro next to Angelina. Thankfully, his little brother separated Angelina and Melissa. He would protect Angelina from any barbs shot by Gino's former fiancee. Melissa clearly was the odd person out, with no one in the seat opposite her, showing her current status in Mama's eyes. Perhaps tonight wouldn't turn out as badly as he'd expected when Melissa had shown up in the lobby earlier.

Marc grinned down the table at Angelina who smiled back. He watched her relax as Papa engaged her with a question that seemed to require some thought. Unlike her, he couldn't hear two conversations at once the way she had been able to at her family's smaller table.

Course after course was presented over the next hour, and conversations flowed around him. An occasional few words drifted to him as Angelina mentioned one of her brothers and Mama Giardano. He loved watching the joy on her face when she talked about her family. Sandro teased her about something, and she blushed. Perhaps he needed to take his little brother aside and be sure he knew the boundaries when it came to Marc's girl.

Sandro isn't Gino.

And Angelina certainly wasn't Melissa. He trusted her. Marc relaxed.

After dessert, Marc returned to Angelina's side; Papa beat him to pulling out her chair, but Marc took her hand and helped her up. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he leaned down and whispered, "How are you holding up?"

She smiled up at him. "I love Sandro, your parents, well, your whole family. They've all made me feel so welcome."

While she excused herself to go the head, Marc reflected on how important belonging was to Angelina, as were family connections. Marc understood that need better now, but during his younger years he hadn't felt connected to his own family. He'd never been as stable or obedient as Gino, who always seemed to do what their parents wanted. Earning a Bachelor's in Recreation and Leisure Studies rather than pursuing a Master's in Business Administration like Gino had disappointed Mama especially. Abandoning his role in the family business to join the Navy had nearly gotten him disowned.

He'd come to realize their objections to his enlistment were more about his safety and possibly losing another son to the war, which became clear when Mama and Papa traveled all the way to Germany to visit him after Marc had been injured in Iraq. They'd sat by his bedside at a time when they should have been at the resort gearing up for the height of the ski season and stayed with Marc until he'd been flown back to the States.

While he hadn't spent a lot of time here in Aspen after his discharge from the Navy, he tried to keep up with family more than he had before. But he stopped short of returning to live here and helping run the resort. Guilt over not wanting to take on responsibility for his family's business had plagued him his entire adult life.

Perhaps now that he was with Angelina and had seen what a close relationship she had with her family, he would spend more time up here. Although nothing would tear him away from Angelina, knowing his family accepted the woman he'd fallen in love with lifted a weight off his shoulders.

This was going to be a memorable weekend; he could feel it in his bones. Tomorrow he hoped to get Angelina out on the slopes with him. She still didn't enjoy the outdoors the way he did, but he'd work on helping her feel more comfortable there, little by little.

He touched the ring box he'd been carrying in his pocket since Christmas. He didn't know what was keeping him from popping the question; he'd been planning this moment ever since Adam's wedding.

Sandro's voice intruded on his thoughts. "Thirty seconds to the New Year!"

He let go of the box, glanced around, and found Angelina standing next to Mama. While the others grabbed for noisemakers, Marc walked over to Angelina and wrapped his arms around her. They locked gazes. Not waiting for the New Year to begin, he grabbed her hair and tugged it back, tilting her head and opening her mouth. He lowered his mouth to hers, nibbling on her succulent lower lip, feeling her warm breath mingle with his.

Angelina's hands reached up to encircle his neck, and Marc's tongue delved inside to tangle with hers. With blood rushing through his brain, the cheers of "Happy New Year!" barely registered.

Remembering where he was, he fought the urge to grab her breast and twist her nipple. However, he could wait until later, unwilling to cause her any embarrassment with his family. Still, he continued to kiss her deep and hard. This was their first New Year's Eve kiss, and he wanted it to last.

"Well, someone needs to get a room."

Angelina stiffened in his arms at Melissa's remarks, and Marc held the back of Angelina's head as he further assaulted her senses.

No escape. He would not release her, even if Melissa tried to break the spell.

But all too soon, Angelina pushed him away. Her face was flushed, whether from his kiss or her embarrassment at the woman's catty remark, he wasn't sure.

Soon they were engulfed with wishes for a happy New Year from the family. When he turned around, he saw Melissa walking out the door. Good riddance. Had she finally gotten the message she had no place in this family? Dio, he hoped so.

Angelina stared out at the slopes while waiting for the gondola to take her back down the mountain to the resort. Melissa's intrusion on her conversation with Damian a few minutes ago, as they'd watched Marc give Marisol ski lessons, only added to Angelina's frustration. She'd do well to remember Damian's advice to ignore Melissa, who had flounced away in a huff in her form-hugging, fur-lined Chanel ski outfit.

"She's only trying to make trouble. Marc's with you, not her."

Damian was right about that and a number of other things. She did need to talk to Marc tonight about his relationship with Melissa. The woman's cryptic remarks today emphasized that. Marc would keep his promise and tell her the truth.

Since that costume night in October when Marc had pulled off an elaborate mindfuck to show her how much he cared about her and wanted her back after he'd lied to her, Marc had stressed and promised honesty with her. Melissa seemed bent on causing trouble, whether for Angelina, Marc, or both of them, she wasn't sure.

The need to curl up in her Dom's lap and wrap her arms around him became so overwhelming that she almost marched right to the bunny slope to grab him. The man had entrenched himself in her heart in such a short time. She'd do anything to protect him from hurt or pain. She'd do anything for him...period.

Melissa's strong perfume assailed her nostrils.

Shit. Not again.

"Marco was supposed to come back here after he left the Navy. None of us ever understood what he was trying to prove by enlisting."

Angelina sighed and turned toward her. "Some brave men and women find it an honor and a privilege to serve and protect their country." Melissa rolled her eyes. It took all of the self-discipline she'd learned from Marc not to claw the bitch's eyes out. "Marc's a selfless hero in my book."

Smiles from an older couple waiting for the lift caught Melissa's attention, too, and she amended her earlier insensitive remark. "Of course he is. We're all very proud of his service."

Angelina doubted Melissa was doing more than providing lip service to show she supported the troops.

"Marc commented that he was surprised to find you at the resort. What do you do here?"

"Do?"

"You know, your career. Job."

The woman's nose went up in the air with disdain. "I assure you, I don't have to work for a living. The D'Alessios have made certain I'm taken care of after losing my Gino in Afghanistan." She reached up and brushed away a nonexistent tear, glancing at the couple again-for sympathy, no doubt.

Gino and Melissa hadn't married and there were no kids that Angelina knew about, but the family still supported her? That didn't make any sense to Angelina, but she wasn't going to try to figure out how the other half lived. Maybe they had more money than common sense.

Dio, please let me get through this weekend without pulling this woman's hair out.

Melissa's heavily mascaraed eyes narrowed as her gaze returned to Angelina. "I waited for Marc to return home, but I often wondered how his injuries might have affected his...abilities in the bedroom."

Angelina shifted her gaze to the mountain again. She could pick out Marc's form in an instant and smiled, relaxing.

Melissa filled the silence. "He was in great form just before he enlisted. I've missed his firm...hand."

"Oh, I assure you, Marc's skills in the bedroom are..." Wait! What had she said? Angelina spun toward her as Melissa's words replayed in her mind. Before he enlisted? She had been with Marc after Gino's death? Last night, Marc had told Angelina his relationship with her ended at the betrayal before Gino enlisted. Marc joined the Navy more than a year after Gino died. Why hadn't he mentioned continuing his relationship with Melissa?

Okay, Angie, calm down. This all happened long before he met you.

But he'd promised he would be honest with her. Once again, he'd omitted crucial facts about his past. Even though she hadn't specifically asked if he'd had anything more to do with Melissa after he'd found her with Gino, Marc still could have shared the information so she didn't have to hear it from the bitch herself.

"If I were you, I'd keep a tight rein on our little boy. He had quite the reputation here at Bella Montagna, providing his body and special skills to any woman who wanted them. I'm sure he was paid well for his time."

Marc, a gigolo?

Angelina's chest tightened, and she gripped the railing before her own common sense returned slowly. How could she trust this woman over Marc?

"Obviously, you're one to fabricate stories just to enhance your self-worth." Angelina glanced at the woman's 38Ds. "As if you need any more enhancements."

Barely able to rein in her emotions before she belted the woman, Angelina stepped back. Breathe. Remember where you come from. Your mama didn't raise you to respond to bullies with violence.

Where was the damned gondola?

As if her thought had conjured one up, the red, bubble-shaped gondola came into sight. When she watched Melissa prepare to get on the car, Angelina decided she would wait for the next and walked back inside the shelter. The thought of being confined in a closed-in space with that woman and to hear any more lies about Marc's past held no appeal.

Was Melissa lying about her relationship with Marc? Never mind whether he'd been a gigolo. She could accept that before she could understand why he hadn't been honest with her last night. He'd promised to answer her questions honestly, and she'd specifically asked when their relationship had ended, hadn't she?

Walking to the observation window, she watched Marc smile as he continued to instruct little Marisol, who seemed to be progressing quickly through her lessons.

Did you forget to tell me something important again, Marc?

Would she ever fully be able to trust him?

Chapter Three.

Doubts about her relationship with Marc overwhelmed her by the time she arrived back at their suite. What if Melissa told the truth?

She wanted to explode in a mixture of anger and hurt. It took several waves of the room's key card before the scanner read the code and allowed her to open the door. Zeroing in on the antique, four-poster bed dominating the room and bombarding her with memories, she averted her gaze only to have it alight on the toy bag in the corner of the closet. Black spots danced in her eyes.

Breathe, cara.

At the moment, she didn't want to hear Marc's voice, real or imagined. She crawled onto the bed and curled into a ball. The lightheadedness diminished as she laid there before the burning tears started to fall.

Stop! You don't even know that he's lying!

But he'd lied to her before, leaving out very important information. She'd forgiven him, and he'd promised never to do that again. Apparently, he hadn't kept his vow.

Angelina wished she were home in Aspen Corners, in Nonna's bed, safe from hurt. She'd let her guard down with a man again, only this emotional pain was so much worse than the physical blows she'd suffered with Allen.

Even Nonna's bed had been invaded by Marc's dominant presence. Memories flooded her of how he'd so patiently shown her the way a responsible Dom should treat a sub. Those images collided with the way he'd concealed his true self from her, wearing the wolf mask that first time they'd physically met when she'd been abused at the club he co-owned. Despite her destroying the mask later, he'd never removed the internal one he hid behind.

A sob tore from her throat.

Mio Dio. She needed to get away from this room. Regroup. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her smartphone. Pressing speed dial, she waited.