Ruthless Perfection (The Rosa Legacy #1) Read online

  He supported her with one arm while his free hand gently touched each scar. Taking his time, he savored each inch of her flesh with the tips of his fingers. Her body trembled in response and her self-consciousness began to melt away.

  When she felt his hand on her zipper, she almost stopped him, wanting to delay the inevitable. There were many more scars he hadn’t seen yet. He watched her closely as he slowly unzipped her jeans, then placed his hands on her hips and pushed the pants down to the floor.

  She closed her eyes as his hand spanned the area over her hip and thigh that was rippled with puckered skin.

  “Isabel, I wouldn’t change one thing about your body. These scars are a badge of honor. They show how brave and resilient you truly are. You should never cover them.”

  He unzipped his own jeans and in one lithe movement, tossed them on the floor along with his boxers.

  When he kissed her again, she could feel tenderness along with passion. He lifted her and placed her in the center of the bed before he came down on top of her, his movements sure as he positioned her under him. She lost all sense of time and place and simply clung to him as he teased and possessed her mouth.

  “Wait. Sorry. I have to find a condom.” He left her for a moment, and she tried to make sense of the evening. She couldn’t believe that she finally told him and he wasn’t repulsed. If anything, he seemed more passionate.

  He came back into the room, closing the door, and smiled at her. His eyes never left her face as he walked over to the bed completely naked and asked, “Miss me?”

  He pulled her to him and rained tiny kisses down her neck until she felt the nip of his teeth and the flicker of his tongue against her straining nipple. She gave a low moan of satisfaction, and he smiled up at her before capturing the second nipple.

  Her body arched towards him in a silent plea, but he took his time pleasuring each breast again.

  “You feel so amazing,” he groaned, desire intensifying his words.

  She felt his hands glide over her hips and pull her upwards until she came into contact with his silky smooth erection. The only barrier was her silk panties, which he quickly removed. His hand lingered for a moment, waiting for her to give him encouragement.

  When she whispered, “Marc, please,” he gently slid his fingers over her warm flesh.

  She called out his name again, and he shifted his body slightly and lowered his mouth to her breast, his tongue encircling the nipple. Thick desire enveloped her and she slid her fingers through his hair, wanting to draw him closer.

  “You are heaven, cara mia,” he groaned, moving so he could capture her lips again. She pulled him closer and her hips arched up in silent invitation.

  “You are so sexy,” he murmured into her hair. His mouth returned to hers, demanding a response. She could feel the weight of his strong body pushing her into the bed. Reacting to his kiss and wanting to feel more of him, she slid her hand over the smooth muscles of his back.

  She wanted his possession. But he shifted off of her and traced a path between her breasts, over her belly downwards toward the core of her femininity. She felt his fingers slowly stroke her. Her hips shifted as he drove her to a new height of sensation.

  “I want you, cara mia,” he moaned as he drove his fingers deep. She was completely lost to the experience. She called out his name as she pulled him closer.

  He stopped for a moment and efficiently put the condom on before returning to her. His control slipped as he repositioned her under him and his thigh nudged her legs apart. She felt his erection brushing against her as he lifted her hips and pushed inside of her.

  His mouth devoured hers, and she was amazed by the strength and power of his desire. She welcomed each thrust of his possession as a delicious sensation built inside of her. His hands on her hips encouraged her response, and she lifted her body to match his rhythm.

  When he suddenly increased the tempo, she cried out in release and contracted around him, causing him thrust into her once more before reaching his own release.

  He held her tightly while they struggled to recover enough to move.

  “You are so beautiful, cara mia.” She smiled languorously at him and nuzzled his neck.

  For a brief moment, she thought he might retreat to his own room, but he pulled her into his arms once more and began the seduction all over again.

  She couldn’t get enough of him.

  The connection between them, if possible, was even more intense and overpowering than it had been the first time. Marc touched her body in ways she had never been touched before, delighting in her sighs and gasps of pleasure. After denying her desire for so long, Isabel lost herself in sensation and didn’t worry what the future held for them.

  Chapter 13

  Isabel woke up feeling disoriented. An alarm was blaring in the distance. She opened her eyes and saw Marc pulling on his jeans and striding out of the room.

  “What is it?” she called after him.

  “It’s the quarry. Someone must be hurt.”

  Isabel was immediately awake as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening. She could hear voices in the hallway and, glancing at the clock, saw that it was just after four o’clock in the morning.

  She turned on the shower. She knew that the alarm was only for serious accidents at the quarry. She rushed through a quick shower and dressed in jeans and a casual top.

  When she walked into the kitchen, she knew instantly that something dreadful had happened. Maria and Enzo were sitting at the table silently, but their faces were drawn in grief.

  She had no idea what was expected of her, but she knew she wanted to help. If she could find Marc, he could give her a job, something useful to do.

  “Isabel, in a few hours’ time, Enzo will take you to collect Alda. She will probably want to return to Boston as soon as possible.”

  “Why? What has happened?”

  The silence stretched on until Enzo finally said, “The alarm that went off signals a terrible accident at the quarry. Someone is dead or dying. I don’t know who or how many, or why yet. It will take time to sort out. Alda… Alda will not want to stay. The media will descend, and Marc would like you and Alda to return to Boston.”

  Maria handed her a cup of coffee, and Isabel sat at the table with them. She knew only twenty or so men worked at the quarry, and their families all went back many generations in Carrara.

  She thought the excavation of marble had become much safer with new technology and equipment. How could someone have lost his life just going to work?

  There were so many questions forming in her mind, but she remained silent and listened to Enzo and Maria. Their main concern was to shield Alda, who had lived through tragedy at the quarry before. But she wanted to ask them about Marc. He owned the quarry and was the one responsible for the men’s safety.

  Slowly people began to arrive at the villa. Isabel helped Maria organize food and coffee until Enzo suggested she pack a quick bag for herself and Alda. It took her more than an hour to pack up her equipment and files. He told her tickets were waiting for them at the airport.

  It was barely morning when Enzo loaded their luggage into the car and she glanced back at the villa.

  She asked Enzo to stop by the quarry so she could see Marc.

  “No, it is not the place to go right now.”

  “Please, Enzo, I just want to make sure he is all right.”

  “I’m sorry, Isabel.” The old man’s eyes were filled with understanding. “He asked that you be sent back to Boston.”

  In a haze of tears, Isabel said, “Enzo, I’m not leaving until I see him. I absolutely refuse.”

  Instead of arguing with her, Enzo sighed. “I can drive there, but it will be difficult.”

  When they pulled up to the quarry parking lot, Isabel saw crowds of people gathered everywhere.

  She slipped out of the car and walked toward the management office. Marc was talking to the police when she caught sight of him.

 
After several minutes of waiting, he excused himself and walked toward her. She could see the strain on his face and her heart went out to him.

  His expression was completely blank. It was as if the previous night never happened. “What are you doing here? I asked Enzo to take you to the airport.”

  Isabel felt as if there was a wall between them. “I can’t just leave…”

  His eyes were dark and a thinly disguised anger permeated his body. “This is not the place for you. The aftermath of this accident should not make its way into your film.”

  “Marc, please…” She held out her hands, but he glanced back toward the police.

  When he looked at her again his face was completely blank of all emotion. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  She merely nodded and walked away in a daze. He wanted her as far away as possible.

  Somehow she found the strength to compose herself and do what was expected of her. She collected Alda and offered as much reassurance as she could. When their flight landed in the evening in Boston, Alda’s driver met them at the airport.

  The next morning, she found Alda sitting down for breakfast so she slipped into a chair opposite her and tried to find the right words.

  “Alda, it is time for me to go.”

  “Yes, a short break is a good idea,” Alda said, purposely misunderstanding her. “You should take a few days off and spend time with your family.”

  “Alda, I have enjoyed spending time with you. But you no longer need a companion.” Isabel’s voice was kind but firm.

  “I do need you. I still feel weak most days.”

  Isabel was surprised by Alda’s admission but said, “Your physical recovery is complete. I don’t understand why you wanted to leave Carrara so quickly, but I can’t help you with it.”

  Alda glanced away. She looked shaken, but her voice was steady. “Perhaps you are right.”

  Sitting with Alda in the formal dining room, Isabel felt immense longing. She wanted to wait for Marc to return but knew it was hopeless. She needed to go on and create a life for herself. He wasn’t interested in a relationship with her.

  When Alda stood up and placed her napkin on the table, Isabel forced herself to stand up as well.

  Alda said, “I wish things could be different.”

  Instead of pretending she didn’t know what Alda was talking about, she moved forward and hugged her, whispering, “Me, too.”

  Collecting her bags from the hallway, she walked out of the brownstone holding on to the knowledge that she had helped Alda recover. She purposely didn’t think about her own broken heart. She would deal with her feelings when she was alone.

  As if on cue, Alda’s driver appeared from the side entrance and offered to drive her back to her apartment.

  When, a short while later, she walked into her parents’ business, it was as if she was watching a scene play out in front of her.

  The restaurant wasn’t open yet, so she had to knock on the window. She could see her mother come out of the kitchen squinting at the door. When she realized who it was, her mother became so excited that she fumbled with the lock for several seconds before opening the door.

  “Isabel,” her mother called out in delighted surprise.

  Isabel took one look at her mother and her sadness overwhelmed her. Tears began sliding down her cheeks as she threw herself into her mother’s arms.

  Her mother hugged her tightly for some time before asking, “Is it Ms. Santoro?”

  “No, no… she made a full recovery.”

  She forced herself to stand up straight and wipe the tears from her cheeks. She wished she hadn’t broken down because now her mother would want her to explain everything.

  “It’s hard to help a patient for such a long time, then walk away.” Her mother stroked her cheek. “You’ve done a good job, cara.”

  Isabel merely nodded, letting her mother’s suggestion take hold. It would be better if she didn’t have to talk about Marc right now. And what could she tell her parents? She fell into his bed and then he dismissed her?

  After chatting with her parents and saying hello to her brothers, she went upstairs to her apartment. She felt as if she was forcing herself to go through the motions of everyday life instead of living.

  But instead of hiding away, she opened up all the windows and cleaned every surface. She began pulling out items to donate from closets and drawers. When she got to the bottom of the hall closet, she pulled out a box containing her wedding dress. The shame she normally felt was strangely absent. She opened the box and pulled out the dress. Realizing it no longer had any power over her, she put it back in the box and placed it in the donation pile in the hallway.

  It took several days to reorganize her apartment and give away items she had been storing for the future. She worked late into each night on the film, editing each clip and fine-tuning the flow. She found it very difficult to watch the interview with Marc, but somehow she allowed herself to become immersed in the film.

  She had just decided to paint the bathroom a bright white when she heard a knock at the door. Walking through the living room, she pulled the door opened and wasn’t surprised to see her father. Since she returned home, her parents had been dropping in often.

  “I hear you are redecorating. Your mother sent me up to help.” Isabel smiled and invited him in.

  “I was just taking a look at the bathroom. It could use a little paint.”

  They worked most of the day. Her father made several trips to the hardware store while Isabel painted the small room. Her father filled her in about the family while he re-grouted the tiles in the shower and replaced the faucet.

  When they finished, they stood back to admire their work.

  “Thank you for everything.”

  Isabel realized how much she had missed her father as she watched him clean up his tools.

  “You miss the Santoro family.”

  Isabel merely nodded and asked, “Would you like a soda?”

  She did miss them. But it was Marc she thought about each waking moment. How could she explain how she felt to her dad? She didn’t even want to try.

  She was saved by her mother. Maria came in carrying a pan from the restaurant. Isabel could smell the rosemary chicken and helped her mother place the food on the table.

  “You’ve been painting,” her mother said.

  “We revamped the bathroom today,” Isabel explained.

  Her mother looked at her. Suddenly Isabel realized in the heat of the day, she had changed into a pair of shorts and tank top.

  “Isabel, I can see your scars.”

  “Mama, it is fine. I know I have scars, but I shouldn’t be made to feel my body is grotesque.”

  “I’m not saying you should hide your body away. Just dress modestly.”

  Isabel looked at her mother. Her face held concern, but Isabel no longer felt ashamed.

  “I’m not ashamed of the way I look. If anything, the scars remind me I’m lucky to be alive.”

  Her mother began setting out the plates. “I just worry about you. People might feel uncomfortable, or they might ask questions.”

  After a brief silence, Isabel said, “I know you worry, but I’m fine. I can’t help how people will feel, but if someone asks I will tell them.”

  The three of them sat down to a simple meal of chicken and salad. Her father opened a bottle of wine and Isabel took out her grandmother’s wine glasses. Isabel told them all about her trip to Italy. She purposely didn’t mention Marc; it was still too difficult and recent to talk about. But she did describe the marble cliffs and the opera. She mentioned Alda quite a bit and her parents relaxed and enjoyed the evening.

  Over the next few weeks, Isabel finished editing the documentary. She had sent a few messages to Marc through email for final approval for different sections but hadn’t heard back from him.

  She missed Marc. He had dismissed her without any regard for her feelings, but her heart ached for him. Sometimes she w
ould catch a glimpse of a tall man with dark hair on the sidewalk and for a split second would begin to hope, only to be disappointed.

  In two days she would be presenting the film to the Mayes Arts Organization that sponsored it.

  Isabel checked her email again and began to worry that she wouldn’t have any communication with Marc until her grandfather’s retirement party the following week. She was proud of her work but wanted Marc to see it before it was released.

  Isabel closed out of her email and decided to begin packing for her next project. She had been notified that she was invited to go to New York to film a series of stories about average people who did extraordinary things. She already knew some of the crew and had accepted the job.

  Chapter 14

  Isabel glanced at her phone again. She was going to be late for the retirement party. After a series of mishaps, she had missed her train in New York. Not only was she nervous about seeing Marc again, but now she was also going to be late to the event.

  Getting off the train in Boston, she decided to find a taxi instead of waiting for the next commuter train. Balancing her equipment and suitcase, Isabel was grateful when a businessman gave her his taxi. The man handed her his business card saying, “Text me when you want to buy me a beer.”

  As the taxi, pulled away from the curb, Isabel made eye contact with the man. He was quite attractive, but she had no interest in flirting or dating. If she even allowed her mind to consider the possibility, it felt like her heart would break all over again. Why was Marc still so important to her? Hopefully tonight she would slam the door shut to that part of her life. She needed to wipe Marc Santoro from her conscious thought.

  When the taxi dropped her off at her apartment, she contemplated not going to the event. She had already sent the final film by courier to Santoro Designs. Let Marc host the evening without her. But she thought about her grandfather and knew this was his retirement celebration. She couldn’t do that to him. She needed to put on a brave face and show up.

  After trying on many dresses, she chose a simple black sleeveless cotton sheath with a high neckline and a full skirt that fell several inches above her knees. Examining herself in the mirror, she realized her scars were partially visible, but the fun lines of the dress gave her the confidence to wear it. She wanted Marc to know that she had gone on with her life.