Ruthless Perfection (The Rosa Legacy #1) (6 page)

He smiled at her. “You are an interesting mix of independence and tradition.” After a brief pause, he said, “We can order in.”

He opened his door and got out.

Isabel gathered her bag and opened the door. Marc came around the car and offered his hand, he tugged her out of the car, and excitement raced along her spine.

She stepped away from him and tried to clear her head.

Marc walked toward the elevators. “There are only a few days before we travel to Carrara and we need to discuss the logistics of the trip.”

Isabel felt a little out of her element as she followed him into the elevator. She knew he didn’t have an interest in her. She had seen photographs of him this week in an online industry magazine; he had attended a gala with a tall, glamorous blonde. But for some reason, he made her hyper-aware of his each movement.

Stepping off the cargo elevator, Isabel held back as Marc put a code into the keypad and opened the door.

The large loft apartment had an industrial feel with soaring ceilings. Isabel walked further into the space, admiring the large windows and exposed steel beams with a gleaming distressed wood floor. Enormous black-and-white photographs of Carrara drew her interest. She scanned the rest of the space and noticed a floating marble staircase and luminous marble countertops in the luxurious kitchen.

“This place is beautiful. I love the marble.” Isabel turned and glanced at Marc. He met her gaze and she felt a tremor go through her body.

It was odd. It was almost as if he was sharing a part of himself with her. It made her curious about him. He was so private. Why would he bring her here?

“Would you like a glass of wine?”

Isabel nodded and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows to glance out at the view of the bay.

She heard Marc place a call to his assistant for Thai food and then open a bottle of wine. She watched him pouring the wine and had to drag herself away from the view.

“What was this building originally?” She had lived in Boston her entire life and had never seen the bay from such a vantage point.

“It housed a company that made parts for the shipping industry.”

She took the glass of cabernet sauvignon he offered her and tried to dispel the growing attraction she felt for him. She reminded herself he was just a man. A man who prized perfection over everything else.

“To your film.”

Taking a sip, Isabel noticed he held her gaze and she felt her heart skip a beat. She needed the project and reminded herself not to be charmed by him. He would be repulsed by her body if she ever let him get too close.

Isabel placed the wine glass on the table.

“I don’t know why you invited me here.”

Marc shrugged his powerful shoulders. He had removed his suit jacket and tie and looked less intimidating in a white button-down dress shirt and gray trousers.

“I’d like to get to know you better before we leave for Carrara.”

Isabel turned away from him. She felt underdressed in her white, button-down shirt and jeans. She had dressed for a long day of filming, not dinner with a perfection-seeking industrialist.

She glanced back at him and said, “There isn’t much to know. I’m a filmmaker from Boston.”

Marc took another sip of wine and his gaze seared into her. She felt her skin warm and resisted moving away from him. She was completely covered but suddenly felt exposed. Why did he have this effect on her? She normally held men at a distance, but she could feel herself being drawn to him.

“You hide yourself behind your beauty. You reveal almost nothing about yourself yet expect others to reveal everything.”

Isabel forced in a breath and reminded herself that he couldn’t possibly know her secret. But maybe he heard about her accident and broken engagement from Alberto? But her family rarely mentioned that time, as if they couldn’t wait to forget.

She took a sip of the wine. “Everyone has secrets. But I’m quite sure you would find my life rather dull. And the role of a filmmaker is to reveal a story or message, not to impose themselves on the project.”

“Try me.” Marc sat down on a green velvet sofa.

Isabel felt a moment of unease. Did he know about her past? She was normally in the position of interviewing others and sharing their stories. Not revealing her own tragic tale.

Isabel looked at him. He was waiting for her to tell her story. She decided to remain standing.

“There isn’t a great deal to tell. I was fascinated by film and telling stories, but my parents wouldn’t pay for film or art school. They wanted me to have a practical career. I graduated high school a year early and enrolled in nursing school. After I graduated, I worked at Boston General but kept working on film in my spare time.” Isabel paced the room as she spoke. “My world changed when I was in a serious car accident. I decided to not return to nursing but instead applied to film school and took out loans to make it happen.”

Marc took a sip of his wine. “How did your family react?”

Isabel stopped pacing and tried to dispel the uneasiness she was feeling. “They thought it was a terrible mistake but threw their hands up eventually when I wouldn’t back down.”

The doorbell rang, interrupting them, and Marc greeted his assistant who brought the food delivery. She recognized the young man from Santoro Designs, and he was now quietly setting out plates and placing a small feast on the dining room table. The tension between them eased as they waited for his assistant to leave.

“Let’s enjoy the meal.”

As they savored the gourmet food, Marc spoke about Carrara and some of his early memories of the quarry. The time quickly passed, and she found herself laughing at some of his stories.

When they had finished, she helped him clear the plates and was surprised by his self-sufficiency in the kitchen.

When Marc offered her another glass of wine, she declined and asked for water. After taking the glass from him, she removed her shoes and sat on the sofa with her legs tucked under her.

“Were you satisfied with today’s filming?”

Isabel smiled. “Yes. The meeting was seamless. I looked at several clips and it is captivating footage. You instinctively knew how to hold your body. I’ve never worked with someone who needed almost no guidance.”

“I acted in college. I knew I wanted to run a company and that the theatrical training would help with that.”

Isabel looked at him in surprise and said, “I guess, that makes sense.”

“It was years ago, but that early training is useful when presenting an idea or giving a speech.”

The conversation moved to the technical aspects of filming and Isabel began to relax as she talked about the mechanics of filming.

“Alberto had said that you have never been to Italy? I think you’ll find many images to capture on film. You never know, your next idea for a film may come from there.”

“I’m quite excited for the trip. I only know about Carrara from stories my grandfather and his friends have shared.”

“My guess is that they only talked about a sentimental longing for an old way of life that is gone. That is not the only reality. You will need to present the bigger picture.”

“Producing a good film is knowing what to reveal and how.”

Marc took a sip of his wine then said, “You’ll need to walk a fine line with this documentary. While Santoro Designs is allowing the filming, I don’t want it to cross over to just being about The Santoro Quarry. While in Italy, you will have access to many other quarries.”

Isabel nodded. “I understand your concerns, but the human side of the story is what makes it compelling and draws the audience in. The slabs of marble are beautiful but not enough. There has to be more.”

“You can show the process of extracting marble and how the pieces are turned into art. There is a struggle there.”

Isabel placed her water back on the table. “That is an important element. But I need to show more than the struggle that the artists deal with. Many quarries have failed and there is conflict over the rate of production.”

“The machinery in today’s quarry makes it much less dangerous and much more straightforward. I think you will stray off topic if you begin to address the reasons behind over production.”

“Alberto talks about…”

“Don’t let an old man’s musings or fantasy overshadow this film. It won’t serve you well.”

Isabel took a sip of water to ease her dry throat. “I don’t understand.”

“Alberto is a dreamer. His imagination runs away with him. If he was more practical, his quarry would still be in operation.”

“I don’t think that is fair.”

“It’s completely fair. He was a terrible businessman.”

Isabel stood up. “Not everyone is as ruthless as you are.”

Marc met her gaze. “To stay in business and turn a profit, you need to be ruthless.”

“I don’t think being ruthless serves anyone well. Can’t your success be attributed to a skill or trait of yours that is not ruthless?” Isabel watched in fascination as Marc stood up and turned his back on her.

Isabel Neri asked too many questions. She had not grown up with his father who taught him firsthand that to survive you needed to be ruthless. She might think that she wanted to know the truth about his childhood, but he would never reveal that part of himself to her or anyone. The media would have his soul if they knew the truth. His father had despised him. He had hated his artistic nature and had attempted to beat it out of him. He banished the unwelcome memories and abruptly turned back to her.

Isabel said, “I think you are much more complex than you give yourself credit for. I don’t think the type of success you have achieved can be simply attributed to being ruthless in business.”

He relaxed the clenched muscles in his hands and said, “I agree. Obviously, there are many factors. But I do know that success in the marble business comes down to the quality of the product or design. In that case ruthlessly pursuing perfection has allowed Santoro Designs to come out on top. Without the adherence to achieving the absolute best, the company wouldn’t have thrived.”

Isabel stood facing him and said, “I don’t think perfection is possible. I think it is an ideal that people strive for but in the end, they are often disappointed.”

He thought about her comments and said, “We are having two separate conversations. I may strive for a particular standard in my own work, but I’m not trying to tell you in some hidden way that I think you need to be perfect or that your film needs to attain perfection.”

Isabel moved closer to him. “I think you probably hold everyone around you to a perfect ideal.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Why do you think that?”

He watched as she slipped on her shoes and looked at him expectantly. “You haven’t answered my question——what makes you think I’m a perfection-seeking ogre?”

“I don’t know exactly. It’s more of a feeling I get when I’m around you. You…”

Isabel couldn’t believe she allowed herself to get drawn into this conversation. It was none of her business. She needed to go home and work on the schedule for tomorrow.

He looked at her and she could feel her heart race. “I have a completely different feeling about you. You are incredible at getting people to open up and, if anything, you tempt me to say and do things that I wouldn’t normally do.”

Without thinking she said, “What do I tempt you to do?”

He stepped closer and she could feel the nerve endings in her spine become heightened with anticipation.

Unconsciously, she bit her lower lip. She watched in fascination as he moved closer to her. Knowing that she should break the spell and step away, she felt powerless to do so. Her body felt hot all of a sudden and she waited for his touch without drawing a single breath. He traced his thumb over the sensitized area where her lower lip met her skin, causing her to draw in much needed air. His hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her forward, and his mouth came down on hers. His kiss was gentle and coaxing until she opened her mouth fully and moved closer to him and then his kiss become more demanding.

Suddenly his hands were on her back, urging her closer, and his tongue deliciously explored her mouth. His body felt warm and solid as she pressed against him. The sound of their harsh breathing echoed in her head as she ran her hands over the taut muscles in his shoulders. She felt a tremor go through his body and it excited her.

She moved closer yet and luxuriated in the feel of his hard, strong body. He kissed her again and she moved onto her toes to fit her body against his perfectly.

He began to unbutton her shirt and she froze. Breaking away, she said, “We need to stop.”

“We are completely alone,
cara
. And you are driving me insane.” His voice was soft and coaxing as he gently touched a strand of her hair.

Isabel moved further away. “It wouldn’t be right. I’m working on the film and it would be unprofessional to get involved with you.”

“Yes,” he said. “That alone is reason enough for us not to act on our attraction. But we have the added problem of your grandfather and most likely my aunt clamoring for our attraction. I should take you home. The next few days will be intense as I clear my schedule to allow for a few weeks in Carrara.”

It was almost nine o’clock. Marc found parking near her apartment, which was above her parents’ restaurant. Getting out of the car, he opened her door, and as she stood waiting, he removed the equipment from the small storage area behind the seats. She tried to wipe the kiss from her mind, but somehow her body refused to cooperate.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“I’ll carry this up for you.” He easily put the larger bag over his shoulder.

Isabel watched him for a moment, then walked toward the entrance to the building, saying over her shoulder, “I’m perfectly capable of carrying the equipment.”

“I’m sure you are very capable.”

Isabel pulled the keys out for the building and unlocked the door to the side of the large plate glass windows, looking into the closed deli. She was conscious of him following her up two flights of stairs.

She unlocked her apartment door and invited him in as she switched on a few lights. The space had a living area intermingled with equipment storage and a work area. She had three screens set up on the table with a hard drive and keyboard connecting them. While attending classes and working in the deli, her apartment served mainly as a closet and an editing room for her films.