Ruthless Perfection (The Rosa Legacy #1) (17 page)

After shampooing, the girl insisted on cutting a few inches off at an angle. She then curled each section of hair before putting it up in an elegant style with several pieces hanging loose that she curled as well. When Isabel looked in the mirror, she was amazed at how sophisticated she looked.

Isabel smiled, thanking the girl, but the woman motioned for her to stay. Someone else came in with a make-up tray and, after redefining her eyebrows with tweezers, applied a serious amount of makeup. Isabel began to suspect Alda’s hand in the makeover but remained polite.

Maria smiled when she saw her, so she asked, “Do you think Alda will approve?”

“She will be very pleased.”

When they returned to the villa, Alda opened the door, surprising them both in her formal gown.

“You look beautiful, Isabel.”

“
Grazie
, Alda. So do you.”

Well, Isabel thought, at least
she
is happy. Looking at Alda, she seemed ready to face the world, or at any rate, the locals in Carrara.

“Did you rest while we were shopping?”

“Not much. I spoke to a dear friend on the phone and made plans to go spend next weekend at her house in Sarzana.”

Isabel noticed Alda was moving slowly and she sat down on the nearest chair.

“Alda, maybe we should stay in tonight.”

“No, I’ve been looking forward to
Carmina Burana
. It will do me a world of good.”

Isabel knew persuading Alda to stay home would be an impossible task. So she smiled and said, “Well, let’s get ready.”

Maria entered the room holding a magnificent emerald necklace. “This is the one you wanted from the safe?”

“Yes, thank you.” After Maria fastened the necklace, Alda hurried Isabel out of the room. “Now it is your turn to get ready, we will leave in about an hour.”

Alda looked so happy to be going out, Isabel was glad she hadn’t spoiled the evening by trying to convince her to rest. She could rest tomorrow.

Back in her room, Isabel slipped the elegant pink silk dress over her body. The flowing, slip-on style covered her but also made her feel quite feminine. She would have to remember to thank Maria. She added the simple marble necklace that Marc had given her in Florence, dabbed on perfume and slipped into her new sandals. The heels were much higher than she was used to.

She found Alda conversing with Marc in the living room. Marc was wearing a formal suit and Isabel could feel his eyes rake over her in a heated appraisal.

Instead of allowing him to fluster her, she simply said, “
Ciao
.”

“Your limp has disappeared. But should you be wearing heels?”

“Each day my hip has gotten better. Surprisingly, heels are fine. It is the way the hip rotates, not the angle of my foot.”

Marc gazed at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

Alda broke the silence in the room. “You look beautiful, Isabel.”

“Would you like a cocktail before we go?” Marc asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Isabel joined them and the conversation flowed naturally to other opera seasons and who would be on stage.

Isabel realized that the attraction between her and Marc was getting unbearable. She found it difficult to look away from him but didn’t want to be caught staring. What was it about him that attracted her? She’d met many men in graduate school and while working on different films, but none of them held her interest. Why had a completely unsuitable, perfection-seeking billionaire become an obsession? She could barely think about anything else.

“We should be on our way.” Alda’s excitement was infectious.

Alda insisted on sitting in the back of the car and told Isabel to sit in the front so she could appreciate the view of the countryside.

Isabel willed herself to relax and enjoy the evening, but being in such close proximity to Marc made it difficult. It brought back memories of the drive to the clinic and her harsh words to him. Studying him covertly, she acknowledged that his handsome profile was etched in her mind. She looked away and flushed as she remembered her body’s response to him in the workroom at the quarry. Even now, the thought of his hands on her flesh and his mouth devouring hers was making her heart beat quicker. If things had been different, would she have had an affair with him? He’d told her quite plainly he didn’t believe in permanent relationships. And she didn’t believe in casual ones.

“Lost in thought, are you?”

Marc’s question caught her off guard.

“Maybe,” Isabel stammered. She glanced back at Alda and noticed her eyes were closed.

“The countryside is beautiful,” she said in a quiet voice. “The green hills stretch out for miles.”

Marc gave a slight smile. “Afraid of sharing your real thoughts?”

“Maybe you wouldn’t approve of them,” Isabel said without thinking. In response, Marc laughed and she couldn’t help smiling in return.

From that point forward, the tension between them eased and they went on to discuss the opera.

When they arrived at the restaurant, where they would dine prior to the opera, Adrienne was waiting in the lobby and greeted them all warmly. Within minutes an old friend of Alda’s, Donatella, arrived and introductions were made. Isabel noticed Alda was making a point to be friendly to Adrienne. She wondered if the conversation she had walked in on earlier was Marc warning his aunt to be polite to her.

They were quickly seated and it was quite apparent that many of the patrons were attending the opera that night. Several people had already stopped by the table to greet Marc or Alda and wish them well. Alda’s friend, Donatella, also drew many acquaintances and the conversation kept moving at a fast clip.

“I love opening nights. They are always magical, no matter how many of them I’ve been to,” remarked Donatella.

“This is Isabel’s first experience with opera,” said Alda.

All of sudden Isabel felt self-conscious, almost as if she didn’t quite belong.

Adrienne smiled warmly, coming to her rescue. “In that case, the evening will be much more enjoyable. I can’t wait to share the experience and excitement with you.”

“I’m happy to be here, as well,” Isabel returned politely. Adrienne was so nice that Isabel felt a stab of guilt. She had no idea of the exact relationship between Marc and Adrienne, but it didn’t excuse her jealousy. Clearly there was a romantic attachment or why would Marc invite her tonight? Maybe to thwart Alda? Why would Adrienne go along with that?

Deciding to take the evening as it happened, Isabel took a sip of her wine and glanced at the menu.

It turned out that Adrienne was an enjoyable dinner companion as she kept them laughing with stories about the tourists at her hotel. Even Alda seemed ready to enjoy the evening and asked about the hotel. Donatella had met Adrienne previously and spent time discussing the local tourist industry.

Much later, when they were walking to the opera house, Isabel caught Marc’s gaze on her and was surprised by its intensity. If they had been alone, she was sure Marc would have kissed her. She looked away and a wave of sadness and longing threatened to overwhelm her. There was no chance of Marc falling in love with a woman like her. He would be revolted by her disfigurement. Wearing a beautiful dress didn’t change anything, she realized. She was still the same woman underneath the silk. Suddenly Isabel was happy Alda and Adrienne were along. It gave her a needed distraction to help her keep Marc at a distance.

The historic opera house appealed to Isabel. The entrance was paved in white marble and a crowd of fabulously dressed people poured in. Italy was fashion conscious in a way Isabel could never have imagined before she visited. Everyone seemed to be laughing, and the anticipation was palpable.

A theater attendant seated them in the center section towards the front. Adrienne took the first seat, then Marc. When Isabel went to let Alda sit next to her nephew, Alda asked to sit at the aisle in case she needed to get up. So Isabel sat in between Marc and Donatella.

Once seated, they only waited a few minutes before the lights were dimmed and
Carmina Burana
began.

Isabel sat mesmerized as haunting choral passages, Gregorian style chants, and potent orchestrations filled the theater. The audience sat in rapt fascination letting the music permeate the atmosphere.

Isabel was amazed by the entire presentation. The splendor of the old world amphitheater was a beautiful backdrop, but the real gift was the sound quality of the space. Isabel glanced at Marc and a smile touched his lips as he briefly met her gaze. He was clearly a fan of opera. There seemed to be an energy buzzing around him. Isabel returned her attention to the stage and smiled at the skill of the actors in their colorful yet old-fashioned costumes.

The driving percussion along with the drama acted out on stage combined to create a work that had an almost physical effect on Isabel. She was completely lost and forgot her own troubles as she was swept up in the action on the stage.

Alda had told her
Carmina Burana
portrayed medieval Europe at its most hedonistic, but she wasn’t prepared for the earthly pleasures so freely displayed on stage. Each vignette dealt with a particular pleasure: eating, dancing, drinking, gambling, or lovemaking. As it ended, Isabel was left with an overall sense of taking the time to truly enjoy life. Looking around, the audience was euphoric and thunderous applause rang out.

She hugged Alda and thanked her. “I have had the best evening. I can’t even put words to how wonderful and moving the performance was.”

“You have become so dear to me. And I want you to enjoy your time in Italy.”

Isabel spoke for a few minutes with Adrienne and then was surprised when the sophisticated woman excused herself, politely said goodbye to Alda, and moved aside to have a private word with Marc.

Alda had planned to go home with Donatella for the weekend and the two of them hugged her and wished her goodnight.

Marc took her hand as they left the theater and waited for the car to be brought out. The conversation seemed stilted during the drive back to the villa. Marc was lost in thought, and without Alda keeping up a steady banter, they lapsed into silence.

Maria and Enzo were waiting for them when they returned to the villa. Maria politely said goodnight after telling them coffee was set out outside.

Walking out onto the patio, Isabel felt they had been set up. Vases of freshly cut flowers were everywhere and the only light was the illumination of candles outlining a path towards the garden.

When she glanced at Marc, he said, “Shall we follow the path?”

The illuminated path led them out to a secluded area of the garden overlooking the pool. A bottle of wine was set out with two glasses along with a fruit and cheese platter. Looking towards the pool, Isabel noticed freshly folded towels and swimsuits were placed on the chairs facing the pool. On a separate table was a coffee pot along with a tray of desserts.

“I’m surprised Alda didn’t hire a violinist for the evening,” Isabel said, almost to herself.

Marc moved forward and opened the bottle of wine without saying a word. He poured the first glass and handed it to her, then poured an equal amount for himself.

“To a wonderful evening,” Marc lifted his glass in a toast.

Isabel turned to face him and when their gazes locked, she felt a shiver of apprehension run down her spine. His eyes demanded that she give up all pretense of deflecting his desire. She could see his intention in every line of his body.

Isabel held his gaze as she touched her glass to his and took a small sip. The wine tasted of complex, sweet flavors and she enjoyed the feel of it as it touched her throat.

“Why are you not pursuing Adrienne?” Isabel hoped the mention of Adrienne would put a damper on the evening.

His eyes studied her for a long moment as he contemplated his answer. Taking another sip of his wine, he said, “Adrienne is a good friend. But there has never been an attraction.”

The answer surprised Isabel, but she carefully kept her face blank. It didn’t change anything between them. It didn’t matter how much she longed to be in his arms. He would be repulsed by her.

Sipping her wine, she feasted on the sight of him. Since that first moment at Alda’s house when he walked through the door, Isabel felt a keen awareness of him. She simply felt more alive whenever was around.

He was dark and brooding now. He reminded her of an adversary summoning up the strength to take on his opponent. She knew in that instant he didn’t want to be trapped in this situation. He was attracted to her, but wouldn’t let himself be led down the garden path by his aunt or anyone else. The realization gave her courage.

“The film is almost complete and I’m beginning to think about returning to Boston.”

“Are you running away again?” His words held a quiet challenge and Isabel looked away.

How could she possibly answer him? Yes, she wanted to escape before he completely destroyed her. She would at least have her dignity.

“What are you so afraid of?” Marc stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders.

Isabel felt herself tremble under his hands and wanted more than anything for him to kiss her.

He studied her for a minute before bringing his mouth down on hers. Isabel was immediately lost in the seduction of his kiss and her hands went around his neck, pulling him closer. All conscious thought left her and instead she was lost to the sensation of his lips on hers. His mouth softly drew her forward and Isabel relished the taste and feel of him.

Isabel felt her breasts harden beneath the fabric of her dress as her body slowly swayed and came into contact with his chest.

She could feel his hand on the small of her back urging her closer. Instinctively Isabel moved her hips in response and was instantly rewarded with a low sound of pleasure from Marc.

He momentarily left her mouth and glanced down at her before returning to deepen the kiss. His hands were barely touching her hips and remained very still. His warmth and intensity encouraged her to move her hands over his chest, exploring the firm muscles covered by his thin dress shirt.