the mountains. The white marble surrounding the pool glistened in the sunlight while the rectangular marble planters housed lush, cascading flowers that added blue, orange and yellows to the landscape.
There was no way she was going to swim while in Carrara. The scarring on her arm and leg and torso would be impossible to conceal. She had been warned to stay out of the sun in the year following the surgery, but what would the plastic surgeon advise now? At her last check-up, he had said, considering the severity of her injuries, he was pleased with the results.
How could anyone be pleased with the results? It was true her skin had healed, but the discoloration and raised puckered marks from her arm to her knee were repulsive.
“You are up early but you don’t look ready to swim.”
Isabel froze as she realized Marc was standing beside her wearing only black swim trunks. She quickly looked back to the pool, but the image of his mostly naked body was already imprinted on her mind. His masculine frame was well proportioned with broad shoulders, well-defined muscles and smooth bronze skin. He was absolutely flawless.
“No, I don’t like to swim. But the pool is beautiful.”
Marc walked to the edge of the pool and looked back. “Do you know how to swim?”
“Yes, of course. I just don’t like the water,” Isabel said awkwardly as she tried to come up with a plausible reason. It was true since the accident she didn’t like the thought of exposing her body.
“It is heated so it can be used even if it’s cool outside.”
Isabel remained silent and Marc dived into the pool.
Escaping to the office wing of the villa, Isabel spent an hour unpacking and going over her equipment. As promised, Marc had a computer with a large screen set up for her work. She pulled herself away from the work when her stomach growled and she realized she was famished.
Maria had set out an elaborate breakfast on the terrace. When she sat down, Marc offered to pour her coffee.
“Enjoy breakfast because lunch will be bagged and eaten on the go.”
Isabel added fruit, eggs, and freshly baked bread to her plate.
“I don’t know if Alda is ready to be left on her own today.” Since the procedure, she had been a constant companion to the older woman and it felt odd to go off filming today.
“Maria will keep a close watch on her and hopefully she will rest.”
After they finished their meal, Isabel went to gather her camera and equipment while Marc went to speak with Maria.
Meeting him in the foyer, she balanced her pack loaded with equipment along with a water bottle and map to the area.
“You won’t need a map. I’ll show you the area.”
“I don’t want you to spend your entire day taking care of me. I’m sure I can explore on my own.”
“At some point, you can begin to explore on your own, but in the beginning I’ll accompany you or I can assign a guide.”
Marc took the map from her and left it on the hall table. She followed him out to a small truck.
Driving around the hairpin turns, Marc downshifted and maneuvered the truck around a stopped vehicle. Isabel smiled as she noticed tourists out photographing the mountains.
Within minutes, they were on the private road to the quarry. Isabel watched in fascination as they passed through an opening and the entire quarry appeared around them. Getting out of the truck, she didn’t know where to look first.
Marc came over to her and said, “Welcome to the Santoro Quarry.”
“It’s breathtaking.” Isabel tried to absorb all of the view at once.
It was difficult to talk outside, as the equipment being used to cut the marble was quite loud. She followed Marc to a modular office near the parking lot. A foreman greeted them and he seemed to welcome her presence. He showed her the office and the sparse bathroom and then told her she could leave her equipment on a spare desk.
When she stepped outside, the foreman handed her a hard hat and ear protection. She used the
There was no way she was going to swim while in Carrara. The scarring on her arm and leg and torso would be impossible to conceal. She had been warned to stay out of the sun in the year following the surgery, but what would the plastic surgeon advise now? At her last check-up, he had said, considering the severity of her injuries, he was pleased with the results.
How could anyone be pleased with the results? It was true her skin had healed, but the discoloration and raised puckered marks from her arm to her knee were repulsive.
“You are up early but you don’t look ready to swim.”
Isabel froze as she realized Marc was standing beside her wearing only black swim trunks. She quickly looked back to the pool, but the image of his mostly naked body was already imprinted on her mind. His masculine frame was well proportioned with broad shoulders, well-defined muscles and smooth bronze skin. He was absolutely flawless.
“No, I don’t like to swim. But the pool is beautiful.”
Marc walked to the edge of the pool and looked back. “Do you know how to swim?”
“Yes, of course. I just don’t like the water,” Isabel said awkwardly as she tried to come up with a plausible reason. It was true since the accident she didn’t like the thought of exposing her body.
“It is heated so it can be used even if it’s cool outside.”
Isabel remained silent and Marc dived into the pool.
Escaping to the office wing of the villa, Isabel spent an hour unpacking and going over her equipment. As promised, Marc had a computer with a large screen set up for her work. She pulled herself away from the work when her stomach growled and she realized she was famished.
Maria had set out an elaborate breakfast on the terrace. When she sat down, Marc offered to pour her coffee.
“Enjoy breakfast because lunch will be bagged and eaten on the go.”
Isabel added fruit, eggs, and freshly baked bread to her plate.
“I don’t know if Alda is ready to be left on her own today.” Since the procedure, she had been a constant companion to the older woman and it felt odd to go off filming today.
“Maria will keep a close watch on her and hopefully she will rest.”
After they finished their meal, Isabel went to gather her camera and equipment while Marc went to speak with Maria.
Meeting him in the foyer, she balanced her pack loaded with equipment along with a water bottle and map to the area.
“You won’t need a map. I’ll show you the area.”
“I don’t want you to spend your entire day taking care of me. I’m sure I can explore on my own.”
“At some point, you can begin to explore on your own, but in the beginning I’ll accompany you or I can assign a guide.”
Marc took the map from her and left it on the hall table. She followed him out to a small truck.
Driving around the hairpin turns, Marc downshifted and maneuvered the truck around a stopped vehicle. Isabel smiled as she noticed tourists out photographing the mountains.
Within minutes, they were on the private road to the quarry. Isabel watched in fascination as they passed through an opening and the entire quarry appeared around them. Getting out of the truck, she didn’t know where to look first.
Marc came over to her and said, “Welcome to the Santoro Quarry.”
“It’s breathtaking.” Isabel tried to absorb all of the view at once.
It was difficult to talk outside, as the equipment being used to cut the marble was quite loud. She followed Marc to a modular office near the parking lot. A foreman greeted them and he seemed to welcome her presence. He showed her the office and the sparse bathroom and then told her she could leave her equipment on a spare desk.
When she stepped outside, the foreman handed her a hard hat and ear protection. She used the
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