Free Somebody's Angel (#5 in a Military Romance / BDSM Romance series) (Rescue Me) by Kallypso Masters

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 quivering, 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