Ruthless Perfection (The Rosa Legacy #1) Read online

  “Please don’t be angry. The quarry is spectacular at night.”

  “I need you to be safe. Promise me you will ask me before coming here alone.”

  “It doesn’t seem dangerous. It’s well lit and from the noise, you can tell where the machines are.”

  His voice rose. “I won’t argue this point with you.”

  “Fine. But can I stay this evening?”

  “You are immensely distracting. But yes, you can stay.”

  He ran a hand through his short hair. Why did he have such a strong impact on her? She was finding it difficult to rein in her reaction to him.

  The night moved quickly as she followed him from one task to another. She observed him debating the quality of different areas of marble and discussing the cutting schedule. She tried to stay in the background and took a series of photographs of workers using a laser to take measurements.

  After a while, she went back to taking photographs of the two men cutting marble.

  Marc indicated with hand gestures that they should leave. Isabel stood up and stretched for a moment before tucking her camera back into her bag.

  Removing her ear protection as they passed into the tunnel, Isabel realized she felt energized by the evening. The tunnel seemed darker than before and she walked faster to keep up with Marc.

  He stopped abruptly and she walked straight into him. Stepping back, she slipped in the mud and he caught her before she fell.

  “You were almost lost to the mud.”

  His arms felt strong around her. He shifted his weight and pulled her closer. Isabel became aware of his breathing as she felt his chest expand under her hands. A heat spread along her nerve endings, and she wanted to touch him. She wanted him to kiss her, wanted to feel his desire for her. But she knew acting on her desire would be a mistake.

  “You should let me go.”

  “I can’t.” His head lowered slowly and he moved his hands to the back of her head. She could barely see him in the darkness of the tunnel but could feel his arms holding her close. His lips found hers briefly, and she let out an incoherent sound. She moved closer to deepen the kiss. He explored her mouth fully as he pulled her tight against him.

  She could feel his hard length pressing against her belly and a heat invaded her body. He moved his hands down her back and pulled her hips closer to his pelvis. His mouth had moved to her neck and she cried out as he trailed kisses over the sensitive pulse.

  She realized they were both out of control with need but felt powerless to stop it. He moved her over to press against the rock wall, lifting her feet out of the mud.

  “Marc, please.”

  He reclaimed her mouth with a sudden urgency and he touched her breast, his fingers toying with the rigid nipple.

  The darkness gave her confidence to allow her to let her guard down. She pulled his shirt free of his jeans and her hands freely explored his warmth and tightness. The hard planes of his chest and contours of the tight muscles drew her to explore him more fully. She heard him groan in response.

  As he touched her other breast, she ran her fingers over his tight nipples and she could feel his erection hardening.

  Marc pushed his hand between her legs and she held onto him. As his tongue drove deeply into her mouth, he gently stroked her highly sensitized feminine core. His other hand continued to squeeze her nipple and she felt lost to the sensations he was creating.

  She moved against his hand, and he increased the pressure of his probing fingers. The tension within her began to intensify. He found just the right combination of rhythm and pressure and her body exploded into a raging climax.

  Releasing her nipple, he pulled her into a tight embrace and continued to kiss her provocatively for several minutes as she felt the tremors subside.

  Isabel felt shaken by her response and at the same time secure in his tight embrace.

  Marc said into her neck, “I think that was the most erotic fully clothed encounter I’ve ever experienced.”

  “But you didn’t…”

  He pulled her out of the tunnel on shaky legs. “We should go somewhere a little more private.”

  Isabel panicked at the thought of exposing her body to him. “I think we should stop. This madness between us is a mistake.”

  “So you said, once before. I’m not interested in playing games. Either you want a satisfying sexual relationship or you don’t. But that is all I’m willing to offer.”

  When she didn’t answer, Marc took a step backwards and turned away. She watched him walking away into the darkness and felt her heart lurch in her chest. She wanted him, but it would be a disaster.

  Isabel had to stop herself from running after him and trying to explain the problem. She knew he would be repulsed by her body. She couldn’t expose herself to his scorn. Only darkness would work and he would want more than that.

  She retraced the path back to the villa and noticed Marc hadn’t returned. She knew that the relationship between them was becoming more strained with each passing day. She needed to finish filming and return to Boston.

  After barely sleeping, Isabel got out of bed at sunrise. She rushed through her morning shower and put on slim-fitting jeans and a thin orange T-shirt. Noticing the day looked clear and sunny, Isabel contemplated her filming schedule. She had enough footage of the entire process and numerous shots of the valley. She needed Marc in the film. She had many other interviews, but he was going to be the main thread.

  As she moved through her room, picking up her laptop and notes, she acknowledged to herself that the situation had become unbearable. The tension between them wouldn’t bode well for getting him to open up on camera. She inwardly cringed for allowing the situation to get out of hand. She should have stopped their physical interaction immediately. Why hadn’t she?

  The sun had barely risen when she found Maria in the kitchen baking bread. Helping herself to coffee, she made small talk with the older woman for several minutes before going out to the terrace.

  Back inside, Isabel had been lost in her work for an hour or more when Marc appeared in a well-fitted business suit.

  “I’m visiting a client in Florence today.” Marc rested his hand on the back of the chair. “I thought you may want to join me.”

  Isabel looked up sharply and tried to dispel the images of them in the tunnel forming in her mind. “I should edit the film from yesterday.”

  Marc impatiently ran a hand through his hair. “You asked me to consider an interview on camera. You could make use of the travel time to pitch your ideas.”

  “Who are you visiting in Florence?”

  “Nico Marchetti. He is an old family friend whose company creates religious statues. Alberto knows him well.” He started to walk away.

  Isabel made a quick decision to go with him. “Wait, I need to change.”

  “Five minutes. Pack an overnight bag in case we decide to stay over. I’ll meet you in the driveway.”

  Isabel wondered if she was making a mistake. She would need something besides her jeans and T-shirt. Walking into the guest room, she opened the wardrobe doors and began flipping through her options. She had brought two dresses that could work. She chose a wrap-around style dress that covered her but clung to her shape. The intricate gray design added interest and would work for a client meeting. After slipping on low black heels and running a quick hairbrush through her hair, she placed a few items in an overnight bag. Gathering her camera and notebook, she went in search of Marc.

  He was waiting for her outside, his eyes raked over her, but he said nothing. Opening the passenger door to his Maserati, he placed her bag in the back seat area and waited for her to climb in. She carefully held her dress in place as she got into the low car and he closed the door. Within seconds he was driving down the mountain at a fast clip.

  Marc hadn’t mentioned last night, but she could feel an awkward tension between them. They had become too intimate and she worried their business relationship would become strained. Images of the
night before kept playing in her head. She felt drawn to his passion and intensity and she didn’t want to tell him no, but she didn’t see another way.

  “Maria mentioned that you’ve taken a few dance classes since coming here.”

  Isabel glanced out the window. “Dance has always been an interest so I was curious to see how it was taught here.”

  “Have you ever performed professionally?”

  “No. I think that would have horrified my parents. While I was in graduate school, I became a certified Pilates instructor, but I’ve mainly taken classes and only taught once a week.”

  “You seem to change professions often.” Marc shifted as he maneuvered around a sharp curve.

  “I knew you would think that, which is why I hadn’t mentioned it before.” Isabel briefly caught his gaze. “I had taken dance since I was a young child and in some ways Pilates is an extension of that passion. I like to be physically challenged.”

  Marc concentrated on the roadway and tried to rein in the images flashing through his mind as Isabel spoke.

  “While I have many interests, creating film is what inspires me.”

  Marc thought about Isabel in a hospital setting. “I don’t know if I can picture you as a nurse.”

  “It was somewhat short-lived. Not even four years. I was much more interested in the story behind the person than in just treating the condition. Often my nurse manager said I was too curious and asked way too many questions of my patients.”

  Marc smiled. “What did you question your patients about?”

  Isabel smiled at him and he could see her dimple. “I don’t know. Everything sparked my curiosity. The type of life they led, who their family was, why they had made the choices they had.”

  He thought she must have driven her manager mad. “How did the patients respond?”

  “Often they wanted to be able to tell their story, but the problem was, as a nurse, your time is very limited. But if you spent time forming a connection, then it was easier to help them recover.”

  Marc tried to push his desire for Isabel aside, but it was getting more difficult. He wanted to explore her beautiful body, even if she asked too many questions.

  Why did he want to know about her? Maybe he thought that it would ease the tension between them? Her head began to spin. She had no idea what his motivation was beyond protecting the privacy of Santoro Designs.

  “You said I could use the travel time to push forward my agenda of interviewing you for the film.”

  She was surprised when he let out a laugh. “Yes, I did agree to be your captive audience for this journey.”

  Isabel took out her notebook. She had carefully constructed the outline of the documentary, but she needed to add several scenes. They spent the next hour debating the overall vision of the film. Finally Marc capitulated and agreed to her filming a long interview with him.

  When they arrived in Florence, Isabel was fascinated by the sights and sounds of the medieval city. Marc stopped at a parking garage and gave his car to the attendant, letting the uniformed man know that they would return in a few hours as he handed over several Euros.

  Marc led her on a foot tour of the historic city that included a well-known cathedral and the highly regarded museum, the Uffizi. They stopped at several important displays and talked about the culture and history of the individual pieces.

  She was surprised at how relaxed and carefree Marc seemed. He clearly loved the history of Florence and proved to be a charming tour guide.

  Marc took her hand as they crossed the street and something shifted between them. She had the feeling that he was staking a claim. He made a point of touching her lightly, and, instead of relaxing, she was more on edge.

  “We should stop and eat.” Marc led her to a small trattoria and ordered a bottle of Chianti.

  After the wine was poured, he offered a toast. “To your debut film.”

  “Thank you for bringing me to Florence.”

  They spent the late lunch discussing the cultural aspects of the region. Marc relaxed and freely shared anecdotes from the marble trade. He discussed the intricacies of dealing in both a commodity and an art form.

  “After we eat, I do have to stop in to see Nico Marchetti. He imports marble from the Santoro Quarry for his statues. His shop’s work is world famous, but lately he has been complaining that I don’t have time for him.

  Isabel took a sip of wine. “If you would rather go on your own, I can sightsee by myself.”

  “No. He knows your grandfather and would have my head if I were to deny him the pleasure of meeting you.”

  Isabel watched Marc order off the small menu. The lines between pleasure and business were blurring and she reminded herself to pull back and try to keep a professional distance.

  Marc drew the conversation back to the film and she was surprised by his interest.

  After a delicious lunch, Marc led her down a series of side streets until they came to the Marchetti Marble business. The doors were wide open and they were able to just wander into the shop. Marc was quickly recognized, and within a few minutes they were joined by Nico Marchetti. The older man embraced Marc like he was a long lost son and kissed both of his cheeks.

  When Marc introduced her as Alberto Neri’s granddaughter, Nico stood in front of her and carefully examined her face before sweeping her into an embrace. “Yes, I see the Neri family. Tell your nonno to come and visit his old friend. How is he?”

  “He is well.”

  Nico gave them a tour and talked about his projects. They stopped at each work in progress and exchanged advice. The two men discussed the marble trade and Nico complained about the price.

  Isabel asked him, “May I take a few photographs?”

  “Si, Isabel. For you, anything.”

  She became absorbed in capturing the men hard at work and then snapped a few of Marc talking with Nico. Marc gave her a warning look, but she continued to catch interesting photographs of him. When she stopped to review the image on the screen, she realized she was becoming preoccupied with Marc. If she wasn’t careful, he would become her only subject.

  Isabel began to worry about the night ahead. She knew Marc would easily take their relationship to the next level if she encouraged him. But it was impossible. It was one thing to face his disapproval of her changing careers, the way she approached filmmaking, or even her relationship with her family——but she didn’t want to see a look of disgust on his face if he were to see her naked.

  They promised Nico that they would return soon and made their exit.

  “I didn’t think we would escape.” She lightly teased Marc. They were walking back to the main part of the city. She could feel her body respond to his touch and realized their encounter in the tunnel had primed her body to respond to him.

  “Did you ever work for Nico?”

  “I worked in his shop during the summers while I was in high school. Alda sent me to The Marchetti Shop to keep me out of trouble. He ran his studio with a firm hand, and when I wasn’t working he would see to it that I would be at mass.”

  Isabel couldn’t picture anyone reining in a younger version Marc. He was too powerful and intense. “What did you learn from him?”

  Marc seemed relaxed and slowed his pace to match hers. “All the basics. He is very traditional and focuses on religious sculptures. I knew I would work in other fields as well.”

  The streets were becoming quieter as dusk approached. “How did you know at such a young age?”

  Marc met her gaze briefly. “I didn’t want to be weighed down or limited. I knew getting an advanced degree in business was crucial. And if I’m being completely honest, I wanted to exceed what my father built.”

  She realized this open and approachable side of Marc was winning her over. “You seem to have achieved far more.”

  “I learned about the markets and how to invest in global resources. The marble industry can be stagnant at times. I didn’t want the pressure of limited resources and trad
ition.”

  Marc drew her into a few shops and she enjoyed seeing a different side of Florence. At one small shop, Marc insisted on buying her a vintage necklace with a marble orb. He fastened the stunning necklace on her as he lightly kissed her neck. She could feel the cool marble against her skin, and his hands on her shoulders caused her body to heat.

  “My cousin, Emelia, is a jewelry designer. She would love this piece. It’s so unique and yet a part of Carrara.”

  “Has your cousin been to Italy?”

  “Not to Carrara. My mother’s family was from Milan so I think she has mainly visited that area.”

  As they stepped out of the shop, Isabel said, “I think we should return to the villa tonight.”

  Marc caught her gaze. “Why are you hiding?”

  Isabel looked away from him and felt torn. She wanted to tell him the truth but no good would come of it. He would insist that it didn’t matter, but she knew that it did.

  “It would be a mistake.”

  Understanding her meaning, Marc took her hand and led her back to the parking garage where he’d left his car. The drive back, instead of being tense or awkward, was full of laughter and teasing. Marc was getting to understand how she thought and used it to challenge her. They stopped for dinner along the route and continued their discussion about the film over an elaborate meal. Marc made suggestions and seemed genuinely interested in the stories she shared with him.

  Marc poured her more wine as they waited for their entrees. She summoned the courage to say to him, “I was speaking with Alda in the garden a few days ago and she mentioned that in some ways she was surprised that you continued with the marble business after your family experienced so much loss.”

  She watched as sadness flashed across his face until he masked it. “I’m not interested in discussing my family’s tragic past.”

  “It’s something that the old-timers refer to even if they don’t mention it outright.”

  “Isabel, leave it. It’s not something that should be in the film.”

  She could see a deep emotion running through him. “It’s an important part of your history. It does raise questions and the fact that you were able to move on and build an empire is rather remarkable.”