Ruthless Perfection (The Rosa Legacy #1) (16 page)

“Can you walk?” he asked, lightly touching her arm.

Isabel forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, but the unevenness of the ground made it excruciatingly difficult.

Marc kept pace with her. His voice softened. “Wait. Don’t walk if you’re in pain. How did you injure yourself?”

Isabel felt a response to him build in spite of the pain she was feeling. His kind interest was too much.

“It’s my hip. Each step is more painful than the last. I injured my hip badly in the car accident.”

After a brief hesitation, he bent down and slipped an arm under her knees. With his other arm supporting her back, he lifted her effortlessly.

He began walking down the path. Suddenly the heat of his embrace allowed her to relax. No longer did she have to worry about making it back to villa before dark. Holding onto him, she felt foolish for taking such a long hike.

“If this is some sort of ploy you worked out with my aunt, I will not be amused.”

“I wish that were it.”

Fifteen minutes later, Marc passed through the stone wall opening to the villa. He stopped and let her body slide down his until her feet were touching the ground. Her hand rested on his chest as she regained her balance. She could feel his heartbeat hammering and hear how his breath was affected by carrying her.

He lightly feathered a kiss on her lips. “You need to be careful if you venture out in the woods alone.”

Besides a light tingling on her lips where he had just kissed her, Isabel felt nothing. The last several hours of worry seemed to leave her numb. Instinctively her arms went around her body as she tried to warm up her cold limbs.

“I thought I was going to be stranded out there.” Her words were barely more than a whisper.

She could feel him watching her but kept her eyes on the ground. She didn’t like feeling so vulnerable.

Without warning he abruptly ended the conversation. “My aunt is waiting. Can you walk? The ground here is much more even.”

Marc put his arm around her waist and supported her weight as she moved forward. It was hard for her to think clearly when he was so close.

When they walked onto the patio, Alda got up and greeted them.

“Well, I found our missing filmmaker, but I think she may be in need of first aid.”

Alda hovered near her. “What happened? Isabel, are you injured?”

Isabel felt horrible having Alda so concerned and obviously worried. She gingerly sat in a cushioned chair Maria pulled out for her.

Maria told her, “I had to stop her from dialing the authorities a few times. I’ll put coffee on.”

Alda sat down near Isabel and waited for her to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Alda. I really didn’t mean to worry you.”

Alda waved her hand dismissively. “As long as you are safe. It’s of no importance.”

Isabel clenched her hands into fists as she realized that the stress was not helpful to her at all. She glanced down and noticed the gash in her hand was bleeding still. Taking a napkin from the table, she applied a small amount of pressure.

“I was just going to take a walk on the footpath, but I came across a side path leading to the cliffs. The view was simply magnificent.”

Alda was watching her intently trying to understand. “Isabel, the cliffs are dangerous.”

Isabel took a sip of the water Marc had placed near her. Seeing the concern on Alda’s face made her feel horrible.

“I only stayed a short while, but when I got up it hurt to move. I didn’t realize how walking on the small rocks would affect my hip.”

There was silence for a moment until Alda asked, “Is there a problem with your hip?”

Isabel wished she could fade into the background. “No, I mean, not really. I had injured it a while ago, but I thought it was fine.”

Marc interrupted. “Your accident must have been serious. How extensive were your injuries?”

Isabel felt herself shaking, knowing that her world was about to crumble apart. Standing up, she went to move away, but Marc stood up as well and blocked her path.

“Extensive.” Isabel tried to keep her voice neutral. “But it has been almost two years and I’ve completely recovered.”

“Is that so? Is that why you were almost stranded in the forest because you are completely recovered?”

Alda came to her rescue. “Marc, dear, it could have happened to anyone. Old injuries are like that. And Isabel is not familiar with the terrain in these mountains.”

“Well, I would feel better if you were examined by a physician. So would you like to change before we go to the medical center or would you prefer to go as you are?”

The shock must have shown on Isabel’s face because Alda said, “It would be a good idea to be checked over. Just to make sure.”

“Alda, I’m fine. Really. I just need to rest.”

Alda proved intractable, so Isabel found herself sitting in emergency care an hour later with Marc at her side. She barely spoke to him during the drive or while they were waiting. She knew instinctively that he wanted to send her back to Boston.

Marc had taken over when they got to the facility. He organized the billing, gave a brief history and insisted an orthopedist be called.

At another time, Isabel would have been fascinated with getting an up close view of a medical facility in another country, but fear held her in a state of disbelief. What if she needed surgery to repair the damage? It would take months to heal and go through physical therapy. She didn’t want to go through that again. She couldn’t.

After taking her for an X-ray, an attendant wheeled Isabel to an examining room where Marc and a doctor were waiting. Isabel noticed her X-rays were already up on a computer screen.

Marc helped her onto the examining table and the doctor introduced himself. He was a young doctor with a friendly manner and he offered to speak in English.

“Why don’t you change into a gown, and I’ll return in a few minutes?” the doctor asked. Turning to Marc, he said. “Mr. Santoro, if you want to wait in my office, we’ll join you after the exam to discuss treatment.”

After a few minutes, the doctor returned with a nurse and examined her thoroughly. He didn’t seem surprised in the least and in fact seemed more concerned about her hand than the hardware holding her hip together.

After cleaning the cut, he asked the nurse to bring him a suture kit. “You will fine, but a few quick sutures will help this heal.”

The doctor carefully worked on the incision, adding four sutures to close the skin, then applied a bandage.

“If you want to get dressed, my nurse will bring you to my office.” He turned to the nurse. “Could you please find a cane for Ms. Neri?”

When the nurse came back with a cane, Isabel was dressed. Her mind was racing. Why wouldn’t the doctor just tell her the results of the X-ray? Why the formality of returning to his office?

She thanked the nurse and followed her down a short corridor. The nurse left her at the door, and after a brief knock Isabel forced herself to go in. The first thing she noticed was her X-ray up on a large computer screen mounted on the wall.

“Ms. Neri, please sit down.” Isabel looked at Marc and couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Her heart was beating fast and she had trouble concentrating on what the doctor was saying.

“As you know, a hip dislocation such as the one you had two years ago can have long-term consequences, particularly since there were associated fractures. But your X-ray shows no problem with the hardware placed during surgery. So I think, given the description of the terrain you walked today, at some point when you stepped on a stone, your hip probably rotated further than it should have and the swelling and pain are the result. There is no permanent damage. It will just take time to heal.”

Marc leaned forward. “Why did the injury happen? Should she limit walking or other activities?”

The doctor twirled a pen in his hand as he spoke. “Both the X-ray and physical exam show Ms. Neri to be in excellent condition. Why did it happen? Given the history, it is not surprising. But anyone with the type of terrain you described could have injured themselves. I recommend using a walking aid, such as the cane, until the limp disappears. Swimming would be a great way to move the hip without straining it. But you should make a full recovery within a few weeks without a problem.”

“What about the sutures you mentioned?” Marc asked.

“My nurse has given Ms. Neri written instructions, but certainly she should be careful of her hand for the next several days while the sutures heal.”

Isabel stood up first. “Thank you so much, doctor.”

The doctor rose from behind his desk and shook both their hands. “Please call me if you have any further complications, but I expect you will be feeling much better in a few days.”

It was nearly midnight when they climbed back into the car to head home.

Isabel was exhausted from all the worry. She opened the pain medicine she was given and took two pills along with a sip of water.

“Well, it seems as if you will be the one needing a private nurse.”

“I’m fine,” Isabel said, looking out the window to avoid Marc’s eyes.

“You don’t seem fine. You were very worried in there.”

The day had gone badly. The pain seemed out of proportion to her injury and then after enduring a long trek out of the woods, she had had to deal with a foreign medical facility and more questions. Something in her snapped.

“Of course, I was worried. I’m here to complete the filming for this project. And I feel guilty for going off on a hike. Then I had to walk several miles not knowing if I was causing more damage to my hip as darkness descended.”

Marc drove in silence for several minutes before saying, “Tell me about the car accident.”

Isabel’s heart started hammering. “I don’t think the accident is relevant.”

“Why do you become so defensive when the accident is mentioned?”

She clenched her hands in response, only to feel the sting of the sutures. “I have no intention of talking about the accident,” she said vehemently. “I hate even thinking about it.”

“No, what you hate is not being able to face up to the accident. For some reason you avoid the issue at all costs. You’re like a lion with a thorn in its paw who refuses to allow anyone to come near.” Marc’s voice was smooth and silky as he shifted to merge onto the expressway.

“How dare you say that to me? You know nothing about it.”

“So enlighten me.” His words held a raw challenge.

She closed her eyes. “Why would I confide in someone who prizes perfection above all else?”

“I think the strain of the day has caused you to exaggerate wildly.”

“So you disagree that you prize perfection above all else?”

“My desire to achieve perfection in my work has nothing to do with your injuries.”

“Yes, it does. You expect perfection from all those around you.”

“Isabel, that is not true. While I agree that I may seek it in my designs, I understand that humans are not capable of perfection in their lives.”

“You want this film to be perfect and that also extends to my work on the film.”

“So you are saying that you are not internally driven to seek out the best work attainable?”

“I don’t think perfection is attainable.” Isabel shuddered as she thought about her body.

“I don’t understand where you are going with this. Yes, I want you to create the best film possible. But that doesn’t extend to you personally. I know injuries and accidents happen.”

For a brief moment, Isabel considered telling him about the accident. Then she sternly reminded herself that, despite what Marc just said, he most certainly did prize physical perfection above all else. It was evident in every aspect of his life, from his sculpture to how he ran his business. There was no way she would reveal her flaws to him. She would finish her contract and go home to lick her wounds in private.

Chapter 12

It was five days later when Isabel went with Maria to Carrara to have the sutures removed from her hand and find a reasonable evening gown to wear to the opera. Maria was pleasant company and helped Isabel navigate the local shops with ease. When at the third store, she followed her into the changing room with a strapless gown of shimmering blue silk, Isabel politely declined.

“But you are a beautiful girl,” Maria insisted. “Why do you say no to beautiful dresses?”

Maria had been very supportive and friendly since the moment she had arrived in Italy. Now, looking at the older woman, seeing only kindness in her expression, Isabel made a decision.

“Maria, I was in a bad accident years ago and have many ugly scars. That dress is too revealing.”

Instead of feeling panicked about disclosing her problem, Isabel felt relief.

“Where are the scars?” Maria asked simply.

Isabel ran her hand from her right arm to her right thigh.

Maria returned with several dresses that could work. After trying each one, Isabel chose a sophisticated pink silk gown with a rounded neckline and elbow-length sleeves. The fitted, slip-on style was modest but feminine with the hemline at the knee.

Maria smiled and rushed her to another store, where Isabel purchased matching pink evening sandals and sheer hosiery. Leaving the store, Isabel was beginning to feel guilty about her extravagant purchases.

“I have to go to the market, but I can drop you off at a nearby salon so you can have your hair put up,” Maria said.

“No, I have spent too much money already. I can put my hair up myself.”

Maria didn’t accept her excuses. “Everyone who goes to the opera on opening night dresses up,” she said firmly. “Please come.”

Isabel followed obediently, grateful she didn’t need the cane any longer. When they entered the salon, Maria conversed with the receptionist in Italian for a moment before leaving. “I’ll return in an hour,” she said to Isabel as she made her way out the door.

The salon was busy, but Isabel was taken back immediately to have her hair shampooed. A girl in her early twenties greeted her and lifted her hair to feel the texture.