Angelina hated for this fascinating glimpse into Marc's past to end, but when she tried to scoot off Marc's lap, he held her tighter. "Join us in the photo. You have as much a place in the family as I do." His words held a defiance that confused her.

"I think it's up to your parents, but I'm sure they'd like one of just the immediate family." She wasn't even engaged to Marc and didn't want them to have to photoshop her out of a family portrait somewhere down the road if things didn't work out for her and Marc. As much as she didn't want the two of them to drift apart again, nothing had changed since New Year's and more often than not they were apart.

Unless perhaps the love exhibited in these photos had convinced Marc he was very much a part of this family-and loved by all of them.

Several shots were taken, both with and without Angelina, before Mama announced dessert was served. As Angelina started toward the dining room, Marc took her hand and pulled her back.

"We're leaving after dessert."

"What? I thought we were spending the night here."

"Change of plans."

"But what-"

"We're leaving, Angelina."

Lies.

His life had been built on a lie, and his parents had just slipped up royally in the perpetuation of that lie. Mama tried to cover her mistake, but he realized Melissa had told the truth all along. He probably should have called them outright liars to their faces, but all he wanted to do was get away without making a scene. Shit, the look on Mama's face when she realized she'd slipped up made it abundantly clear he'd been deceived all of his life.

He didn't care if they believed the story he'd told after dessert about not feeling well-a lily-white fib compared to the bigger ones he'd been fed the past thirty-four years. In truth, he felt like crap, so it wasn't a lie at all.

"Are you going to tell me what happened back there?"

The oncoming headlights blinded him temporarily, and he flashed his brights at the jerk. "There's nothing to tell."

Angelina sighed and resumed staring at the scenery out the passenger-side window, not that she could see anything this late at night. Just as well she found something out there to look at, though, because it meant she wasn't focused on trying to get him to express his feelings or open up.

He had no feelings anymore. If he'd only remembered to keep his emotions buried deep inside, perhaps he wouldn't have felt that momentary stab of pain when the deception became evident at long last.

Angelina seemed bored with the silence. "Sandro and Carmella sure put a lot of time into that slideshow."

He grunted noncommittally, hoping she'd drop the chattiness. He realized he'd seen many of the photos before but hadn't made the connection that Papa was missing from the photos until about the time Marc was four. He'd just assumed Papa had taken the photos, as he'd often done later.

Wait. Mama had been there when he and Gino were babies. But who's to say the babies in the photos were actually Marco and Gino and not someone else's babies? Dio, this wasn't going to be simple to figure out. Already he had a headache.

"Maybe we can get a copy of the slideshow on a thumb drive."

"I don't need any more reminders."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

She looked his way. "I wish you'd tell me what's the matter, Marc. You're always shutting me out."

"What are you talking about? We live together-sleep together, for Christ's sake." Most of the time, anyway. He heard her intake of breath and knew he'd spoken too bluntly, but he didn't want this line of questioning to follow to its logical conclusion. "How can you be any more a part of my life?"

"Take now, for instance. Something obviously is bothering you. Talk to me rather than closing yourself off. We should be there for each other at times like these."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"What happened, then?"

"I don't even know what the hell is going on." Who the hell I am.

"Well, welcome to the club. How can we have a committed relationship when you won't confide in me?"

Did he trust Angelina? Could he trust any woman?

"Obviously this has to do with your family. If you won't talk with me, then perhaps you should talk it over with them."

"Drop it, Angelina. This doesn't concern you."

Merda. That hadn't come out right. He reached across the console to stroke her thigh but kept his gaze focused on the road. "I'm sorry, cara. Look, I'm on edge tonight. I need to think some things through."

"You're always pushing me away, Marc. If that's the way it has to be for me to be a part of your life, okay. But I worry that you're just afraid to tell me it's over."

He heard the hitch in her voice. Over? What the fuck was she talking about? The walls closed in around him.

"Nothing's over. And I'm not afraid of anything." Oh, Dio, but he truly was. Scared to death. Would she leave him?

Not to mention worrying about who he was. Where he came from. He needed answers but without the messy, emotional drama he'd get talking with Mama and Papa, if they would even tell him the truth.

Should he even call them that anymore?

The churning in his gut worsened until Marc maneuvered the Porsche onto a roadside pull off. He gripped the steering wheel hard enough that his knuckles showed white in the dim glow from the dashboard lights.

Angelina placed her hand over his right one, and her thumb stroked his knuckles. "Talk to me, Marc. What happened back there?"

He filled his constricted lungs, hoping to calm his nerves.

Epic fail.

The words came out in a whisper. "Melissa was telling the truth."

Her thumb stopped moving.

"Marc, you need to go back and talk with your parents before making that assumption." She laid her forehead on his shoulder. "But so what if she wasn't lying? You can't run away from this forever. The not knowing is eating you alive. You know I'll be there for you, no matter what."

But running had always been so much easier. Relieved she was here with him now at least, he patted the back of her head until she leaned away and smiled her encouragement at him.

"I need to go back." He'd intended it as a question, but the words hadn't come out that way.

"I think that would be a good thing to do. Get answers to your questions rather than let your imagination run away from you."

He took a deep breath. After checking traffic, he drove onto the highway and executed a tight U-turn to head back to Aspen. Marc nodded his head toward the cell phone lying between them. He'd never equipped the vintage Porsche with hands-free capabilities. "Call Mama, and let her know we're on our way back. Tell her I need to talk with her and Papa. Tonight."

Chapter Eight.

Marc held Angelina's hand as the elevator ascended to Mama's office the next morning. Papa had answered the door last night and said Mama had gone to bed early with a headache. Must be going around, because Marc's head had been pounding ever since the slideshow yesterday. After taking hours to fall asleep last night, he'd overslept this morning and missed finding Mama or Papa at the breakfast table.

Angelina squeezed his hand, and he turned toward her. Her smile helped ease some of his anxiety. "No matter what you find out, Marc, I'm going to be here."

He nodded, hating that his moody ass was giving her unnecessary anxiety this morning. The gods had smiled on him when they'd brought her back into his life-twice now. With Angelina, he felt as if he'd found a safe haven at long last. He just hoped he wouldn't do anything to fuck it up with her-again.

Why did he keep sabotaging his relationship with her? Merda, having Angelina with him this morning was a double-edged sword. She gave him a sense of calm he wouldn't otherwise feel, but he didn't want her to witness the drama about to unfold. He had no control over what would be revealed.

Angelina hadn't left him for good-yet. So far, she'd always come back. Sometimes he wondered if he was trying to get her to leave him.

The elevator doors opened into the reception area. Evelyn Begali smiled from the glass-topped desk outside the door to Mama's inner sanctum. "Marco, good to see you again!" Marc introduced Angelina to his mother's long-time executive assistant, and the three chatted about inane topics as long as he figured he could stall.

"Mrs. D'Alessio is just finishing up with someone." Evelyn cast a worried glance at the door to Mama's office and then at Angelina before turning back to Marc. "She asked to see you alone."

Angelina started to pull her hand away from his, but Marc refused to release her.

"We'll both be meeting with Mama this morning."

Angelina looked up at him. "Are you sure that's best, Marc? I don't mind waiting out here. This is a family matter."

Marc leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I want you with me, cara." He kissed her lightly on the cheek and, when he stood upright again, was relieved to see the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her lips that had been absent so much lately. He hadn't asked her just to make her happy, though. In truth, having her there was something he needed. For whatever reason, though, she seemed as nervous as he. Whatever he learned today could affect them both, not that he wanted to let it have that much control over him. He was a grown man and had been on his own since he'd joined the Navy.

Why did he dread finding out if he was adopted?

He was an adult. He had his family, the mountains, his friends, the club, and-best of all-Angelina. They provided him with the emotional stability he'd sought all his life.

Until last night. He'd lost control of his life in an instant.

At least he didn't have to face the truth alone.

"You're a fool! You knew the consequences!"

Mama's voice came through the door, startling Marc. He'd never heard her lose her cool before and wondered whom she was meeting with.

Evelyn pressed a button on the remote lying on her desk before she stood, and Pavarotti's exquisite tenor filled the air, blotting out the heated discussion emanating from Mama's office. "What can I get you two to drink while you wait?"

"Nothing for me, thanks." Marc turned to Angelina, who declined as well.

The door to the inner sanctum opened, and he turned as Melissa stomped out on her stilettos. The venom in her expression as she caught sight of Marc and then Angelina was lethal. To Angelina, she said, "I hope you know what you're getting into with this family."

Angelina tried to pull away from him, but he held her hand tightly as they watched Melissa storm out the door. The portal still open, Marc motioned for Angelina to precede him into the office. Mama stood at the window, staring out as a new flurry of snowflakes swirled to the ground far below. Her shoulders rose and fell sharply as she breathed, obviously still upset by her encounter with Melissa. He didn't think Mama was one to even notice the beauty of the snow. For her, snow was green-more snow equals more skiers equals more revenue.

"Good morning, Mama."

She didn't face them.

"I hope you don't mind me joining you, Mrs. D'Alessio."

At the sound of Angelina's voice, Mama did turn around. She didn't seem pleased. Then he noticed her eyes were red-rimmed. Mama had been crying? He'd only seen her cry once before, while he was recovering in the hospital in Germany after being injured at Fallujah. What had Melissa said?

Marc squeezed Angelina's hand. "I asked her to join us, Mama. Whatever we discuss affects her, too. She's a part of my life now."

Dio, he loved his girl. He placed more trust in Angelina than he had in any other woman-ever. So why did he fall short of committing to her completely? Merda, he'd been close to proposing to her several times but never could. What kept holding him back? She'd become a part of his life but would never be a permanent part if he didn't overcome his irrational fears and ask her to marry him.

He hoped that finding out what secret Mama had kept from him all these years would be one of the keys to unlock his inability to commit.

Mama motioned them to the seating area. "Please, both of you sit down." After offering them refreshments from the pots on the coffee table, she took her seat across from them. They could have been in a business meeting, rather than having a family discussion.

"Where's Papa?"

Mama averted her gaze. "He...had some errands to run."

Mama fiddled with the napkin in her lap but didn't advance the conversation. No doubt Mama knew what they were here to discuss, but he'd better make sure.

"Over New Year's weekend, Melissa said some things that I wanted to ask you about."

"Yes, I can imagine she did, based on the visits she paid to me later that weekend-and this morning."

Concerned the gold-digger might still be causing trouble for his family, he cautioned, "Mama, you need to cut her out of your life. She's looking for trouble and money, nothing more."

"Do not worry. She no longer has any hold over me."

No longer? What hold could Melissa ever have had, other than being Gino's fiancee at one time long ago? Marc's chest constricted, and Angelina reached out to stroke his thigh, reminding him to breathe.

"So what she said is true?"

Mama met his gaze at last. "What exactly did she say?"

Why did he get the feeling Mama wasn't going to divulge any more information than she had to?

"She said Gino and I were adopted."

She sighed before taking a sip of her tea. "It's complicated."

"We've got all day, Mama."

She sloshed some of the tea onto the napkin in her lap as her hand shook. He'd seldom seen his mother in any state other than total control, except for the time in Germany and again a few minutes ago after the confrontation with Melissa. Numbness enveloped him as he began shutting down his emotions, preparing himself for the worst. He looked out the window to the mountains, wishing he could be out there now. Angelina's hand stroking his arm kept him in the moment when all he wanted to do was escape.