She nibbled on her lower lip, making him hard. So not appropriate in Mrs. Milanesi's closet. "Marc, I did it."

"Did what?" Being so close to her made it difficult to concentrate.

She swallowed hard. "I took your mask. I destroyed it."

He didn't understand what she was saying. "Why would you do that?"

She averted her gaze, but he took her chin and forced her to look at him. "Why, cara?"

Seconds ticked away before she answered. He leaned closer to hear her whispered response better. "You hid behind that mask, Marc."

"I only wore it at the club."

"I'm not talking about the wolf's mask. I mean in your everyday life. You always kept some vital part of yourself hidden away-from me, from the guys, from your family. I was so frustrated that, when Karla and Cassie invited me to their cleansing ceremony on Adam's deck-"

"Their what?"

Despite the darkness, he knew she scowled at him from her tone of voice. "Please, let me finish. This is hard enough." She took a deep breath. "Mio Dio, I can't believe I destroyed something that reminded you of Gino."

Marc fought a grin. After all, the mask wasn't actually a gift from his brother, just symbolic. Marc didn't even know what had happened to the mask Gino had shown him. But he wasn't ready to let her off the hook yet for destroying something of his without permission. "Go on. The ceremony..."

"Well, each of us brought something that symbolized what was causing us anxiety in our lives, and as part of the ritual, we were supposed to tell why we chose that object and then destroy it."

"And you did?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Marc."

The tears streaming down her face caused an ache in his heart. He reached up and brushed them away with his free hand.

"Stop crying."

She hiccupped.

Dio, he loved this woman. "Stop. Crying. Now."

When he thought she'd regained enough composure to hear him, he continued. "I don't want you ever to regret caring so much about me that you would remove something from my life that was so bad for me. Merda, you saw something in that mask my friends ignored or let me get away with-and you did something about it. Hiding behind that mask wasn't healthy. I convinced everyone else-even myself-I wore it so as not to be recognized by Mama's circle of friends, but in truth, I only used it to hide from myself. Subconsciously, I tried to do as Gino instructed me all those years ago. I wore the mask to fit in where I didn't think I belonged."

"What do you mean? You're one of the club's owners. You couldn't belong more if you tried."

"Yeah, but I never saw myself as an authentic Dom. I primarily went into the venture with them, because I had nowhere I could call home after my Navy discharge. But I had too much shit in my closet to ever be able to fully embrace the lifestyle and enter into an honest, open relationship."

And no wonder Pamela sent him running when she announced she wanted a twenty-four/seven Master. At least when he limited himself to topping at the club, he only had to role-play for a short time. He frequently needed to escape from having to be "on" while playing with submissives.

"You bring those characteristics out in me naturally. I'm not playing a part with you. With you, my heart is in it for the first time."

She stroked his sleeve. "I still regret violating your trust by taking something of yours and destroying it without permission."

Funny. While he probably should see this as a violation of trust, her destroying the mask only served to make him trust her more. "Angelina, you had my six. You were just looking out for me. Adam told me about how you took charge of the interrogation scene at one point, too."

"I just wanted to help you. You looked awful and so alone in the dungeon."

She'd taken on the personas of his two mamas so well he didn't know when he was talking with her and when he'd been lost in a hallucination. He didn't care. His perceptions of the truth needed some serious overhauling.

Angelina had seen him at his worst, his most vulnerable; that she was still sitting here beside him told him she was the woman he wanted by his side the rest of his life.

He'd finally arrived at where he could make her that same promise. One thing he'd learned from Gino was not to take one single moment of his life for granted. There were no promises in life. No guarantees.

But not here. Pulling away from her, he looked into her eyes. "It's time for us to go home."

She grinned. "I thought you said the pilots wouldn't be back for days."

"Merda. I've gotten sidetracked. I guess I'm going to have to show you my homeland first. I'm just anxious to start home." Well to their temporary home in Aspen Corners until they figured out where they wanted to live. But he also knew now where he needed to be when he proposed. He'd changed his mind about where to ask her to be his wife so many times since New Year's. On the flight over, he'd decided the balcony of their hotel suite overlooking the lake and the beautiful Alps would be perfect.

"Just promise me there is a hotel bed in this deal somewhere."

"But of course-in a villa overlooking a glacier lake."

"Wow. You know how to show a girl a good time." She grinned.

He bent to kiss her, losing himself in the sensation before remembering he was making out in Mrs. Milanesi's granddaughter's closet. He pulled away from Angelina.

"After you." He watched her crawl out and got on all fours to follow her when something caught his eye. He pushed the clothing aside to illuminate the spot better. Carved into the wall of the back of the closet was G&M above the letters R&R. The R&R had a big X over the letters.

Marc's mind's eye flashed back to watch Gino carving a big X over the letters R&R.

Gino turned to Marc and must have seen he was once again clueless.

"Gino and Marco are not Romulus and Remus." Gino waited for him to say something, but Marco didn't know what he wanted him to say.

Gino sighed. "In class today, I learned that Romulus killed his brother Remus. We are not Romulus and Remus. Neither of us would ever do anything to hurt the other. We have a pact to watch over each other-forever."

"Marc, are you coming out?"

Marc whispered. "I'm sorry, Gino. I didn't uphold my end of the deal."

"Are you closer to finding any answers, Marco?"

Marc set his teacup down and looked across the table at Mrs. Milanesi. Angelina sat beside him in the kitchen at the table he'd spent so many happy times around.

"Yes, I did. I never thought I'd ever open all the doors to my past, and maybe there are still others closed off to me, but I came to Italy in search of my brother. And I found him in your closet." He grinned, hearing how ridiculous that sounded.

"My granddaughter used to play in that closet, too, before she filled it with shoes." Mrs. Milanesi took a sip of her tea before her eyes opened wide. "Perhaps you can provide us with an answer, too."

"Anything I can do, I will. You've been so hospitable to us, arriving unannounced."

"Pah. Natalia announced you; she just didn't give me an exact date and time of arrival." The woman grinned. "I've missed her so. Your quest has rekindled our friendship. She indicated she might be able to visit again this summer while on a cruise. I hope she does."

"I'm certain she will." Marc waited for her to ask her question, but she seemed lost in memories of the past now. "You said something about wanting an answer to something."

"Oh, yes! Inside the closet, there were some initials carved. Of course, I know G and M is for Gino and Marco, but for decades I've tried to understand who R&R could be. You were too young to have girlfriends."

Marc smiled. "Would you believe Romulus and Remus?" She tilted her head in confusion. "Gino was applying what he learned in school to fit with our ever-changing situation. He drew parallels to Romulus and Remus with how we had been abandoned by our parents and taken in by the she-wolf."

Her hand began to rattle the teacup in its saucer, and she let it go as if burned, moving her hand to her mouth.

Angelina reached out to her. "Are you all right, Mrs. Milanesi? Can I get you something?"

She shook her head and waved Angelina away. After a moment, she spoke. "Gino was fascinated with wolves. Both of you were. Of course, there probably haven't been any wolves in Brescia for decades, but you two played in an old lair near here. Dark, smelly place, but I guess somehow you found comfort there because of that story maybe." She shrugged. "Not important. But..."

"I'll be right back." She left the room.

Marc looked at Angelina who seemed just as puzzled as Marc. Moments later, she came back carrying something wrapped in faded tissue paper rumpled with age, or perhaps from being wrapped and unwrapped many times.

She peeled back the layers, and Marc caught a glimpse of fur. His heart pounded double time. Slowly, she removed the mask from the paper, transporting Marc back to that scene in the closet. But before he could be lost once more in the past, Mrs. Milanesi spoke. "Before you left for America, Gino gave this back to me."

Marc couldn't understand why his brother had returned the gift to the woman who had given it to him in the first place.

"He told me he didn't need to wear the mask anymore. I didn't know what he meant at first; then he told me your new mama and papa loved and accepted you both just the way you were."

The burning in his chest made it difficult to speak.

She continued. "Gino told me Italy would always be his first home but that the United States of America would be his new forever one, and that one day he would serve in the Marine Corps just like Natalia's papa. I suppose she'd begun to tell him about his grandfather before they moved to live near him."

Angelina's hand stroked his back, keeping him grounded. "Breathe, Marc."

He drew a ragged breath.

Apparently there was more. "Gino said he would fit in as an American just as he'd fit in with his new parents, but that he would always have one foot in each place."

Gino had been fourteen when they emigrated, but rather than feel he had to choose one homeland over the other, he'd found a way to embrace them both. No doubt if he'd stayed here, he'd have served the Italian military proudly, but he'd heard the tales of Gramps' bravery and eventually gave all to his adopted country and the Marine Corps. Had this vow at a young age helped him make the decision so quickly after 9/11 to answer the call?

Truly, Gino's love for his new homeland began long before he stepped foot upon its soil. Marc hadn't been the catalyst that had sent Gino off to Afghanistan and his death.

Mrs. Milanesi pushed the mask across the table toward him. "Would you like to have this as a keepsake for your brother?"

Marc stared at the mask, remembering the day his brother had tried to give it to him, but Marc hadn't understood the need for it then. Somehow, he'd started wearing a symbolic one later, convincing himself all this time it had been Mama who insisted he hide behind a mask at the club. Now he was no longer certain Mama had asked him to at all. She'd probably only asked him to be discreet and some memory bubbled up from the recesses of his mind reminding him of another time he'd had to pretend to be something other than himself.

He smiled at her but didn't touch the mask. "No, I'd rather you keep it. It belongs here with you."

Marc had no intention of donning a mask ever again.

He turned to Angelina and saw tears streaming down her face, but the smile she wore conveyed her love, support, and acceptance.

"Gino would be so proud of the man you've become."

He smiled.

Now he knew exactly where to ask her to marry him-well, more or less.

Angelina stared out the window of the jet soon after takeoff from the airport in Milan. She brushed away a tear. The last four days had been more wonderful than anything she might have imagined. A deep sense of loss overwhelmed her as they left Lombardy behind. She turned to Marc to see if he was equally melancholy to leave his homeland again.

He fidgeted with something in his pocket, but otherwise seemed more nervous than sad. She brushed his thigh. "Thank you for showing me Lombardy through your eyes."

"It's so different from what I remember. Hard to call it home anymore."

"You haven't lived here since you were eleven. Colorado has been your home much longer."

"I know, but I've never quite accepted that as home either. Unlike Gino, I don't feel as if I have either foot on the ground." He grinned and shrugged.

"You'd be lucky after all you've been through lately if you didn't feel the ground moving under both feet. You've been shaken to your very roots. But you do have a solid foundation and you'll keep working on all the things we've been talking about the past few days."

Marc had promised they'd come back to visit someday, and she looked forward to that day but also wanted to get home and start building a future with Marc. "Thank you for letting me be part of your journey to make peace with Gino."

His eyes grew shuttered. "I wish we could have found the old lair. The city probably cleaned it up for sanitation reasons long ago."

"You'll always have the memories of it. And of Gino." She turned away, not wanting him to see her tears. Leaving the place where Gino had come to life for her caused an ache in her heart. "He seems so much more real to me after you showed me the streets where you two played bocce, the church where Mama and Papa D'Alessio married, the school you attended. Watching those beautiful children in the schoolyard, I almost pictured you both playing among them."

"I'd lost all those memories for so long. My brother came back to life for me here, too."

She squeezed his hand. "I know a lot more walls have crumbled during this trip."

Best of all, he'd found more closure from events in his past. Sitting in that closet at Mrs. Milanesi's with him, hearing the anguish in his voice as he talked with and about Gino and seeing the tears pouring down his cheeks had broken her heart. He'd kept so much pent up inside, and no doubt he'd be assailed by many more memories in the days and weeks to come as more pieces of his past bubbled up from his subconscious. But now he had a better context for understanding them. And he also had a number of people who could answer questions as they arose-Mama, Papa, and even Mrs. Milanesi, who was going to accept his phone call even though she thought international phone calls were much too expensive for communication.

They'd gone through so much during this short visit, forging a bond in steel.

Marc reached out and squeezed her hand. "Okay, amore?"

She nodded but didn't let him see her tears. He'd think she was unhappy, but surely he knew by now she cried to express happiness, frustration, sadness, any emotion she felt in her heart. She was Italian, after all.

Angelina cleared her throat. "Thank you for bringing me with you, Marc. I can see how you must miss this place." The mountains spread out below stretched all the way to the horizon, their white peaks piercing the sky.

Marc unbuckled his seatbelt seconds after the seatbelt sign turned off. He reached down to release her belt, too, and took her hand to help her up. He brushed the tears off of her cheek.

"Why the tears, amore?"

She shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "I assure you they're happy tears."

"As they should be. I'm sorry I caused you so many unhappy tears this year, though. I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. "After what you went through in that interrogation scene all so we could have a future, I will forgive anything. You showed me how much I meant to you by agreeing to go through that torture-literally." She shuddered. "I thought I might not get back the Marc I loved after they broke you, but instead I got all of the best parts back and many new aspects of you I never dreamed were tucked away inside. You definitely were worth the wait-and the work." She stroked his cheek.

He held her close, caressing her back. After a time, they put some space between themselves and looked at each other. A light shone in his green eyes that had been dimmed for so long. Many ghosts from the past had been put to rest since the scene at the club, including on this trip.

"Come. Let's stretch out by the fire." He took her hand and led her to a fake fur rug on the floor before he lit the gas fireplace.