When the Siren Calls (23 page)

“Don’t worry, Isobel. You will only need the two horses.”Twenty-seven

Jay walked to Gina’s place in Capadelli, a bottle of the finest red wine he could lay his hands on in the cellar of Il Paradiso under his arm. The evening was cool and refreshing, the sky pink and blue with endless stars that pierced the colours like pinpricks. Her apartment teetered on the fourth floor of a great square building, dyed honey orange by the dust and the heat with its stucco flaking away like wafers.

He had not known whether to come, his mind and body near ripped him apart as they pulled for command of his fate. To entangle himself with Gina would be an additional complication, another fine line in the web he was weaving around himself. Isobel played heavily on his consciousness, stirring within him desires that not even Lucy awoke in him. Yet how could any man resist Gina? Innocent and fresh, her beauty was undeniable and she seemed to offer herself to him, how could he not take it? Nothing, no logic or sense, could stop him from doing so.

As he stepped into the apartment any doubt of her intentions vaporised into the candle-lit air. The room was bathed in a reddish glow, tables and corners illuminated by flame-like shrines, and mellow music played in the background. It looked quite magical in its own way and when Gina stood there in the doorway, the softness of her curves traced in the darkness, Jay wafted in, a slave to his senses. They shared a delicious dinner, the air between them thick and aromatic, full of satisfaction and dissatisfaction.

After they had eaten, Gina suggested they watch a film on the sofa, and so they lounged with a half-body of space between them whilst Audrey Hepburn ran around Rome, the black and white of the screen projecting strange shapes into the darkness of the room. Jay shifted his position to make himself more comfortable, inching closer as he sunk into the cushions. Gina echoed his movements like a marionette, leaning towards him as he put an arm round her shoulder and pulled his legs up onto the sofa. She mimicked him again, her lissom form melting into his firm bulk as they lay together like sculptures.

“You are comfortable in this position, Jay?” she asked, looking into his eyes, as the film became mere noise and light.

He shifted again to pull her closer, pressing his hardness against her in silent answer.

“Are you happy with my work?” she asked, stroking his chest with the slightness and vulnerability of a child.

“Very happy,” he replied, his bemusement lost to her in the dark.

“Then perhaps you will now allow me to help you in your work; I have many skills and I fear I do not use these skills, and I would so much like to be closer to you…in your work.” The words came out in a torrent of repressed hopefulness and she pushed herself closer until even the tremble of her breathing gave him pleasure.

“We are not looking for additional staff right now. What do you have in mind?” Jay asked.

“Well, you have your meeting soon, no?” She ran her hand up his chest like electricity. “And I can translate and type and even take dictation.”

He shifted beneath her again and she fell between his body and the sofa.

“Please, Jay, it would mean a lot for me to do these things for you at the meeting.” He shifted again until she was beneath him, stroking his neck in submission. He pondered the suggestion as she caressed him. A striking girl like Gina in the room would be a distraction to Andy and her presence would help to keep tempers from flaring if things became difficult.

“It might be possible, Gina, but I will need to speak to Andy. He’s very stressed at the moment—”

“I could smile at him and tell him how handsome and virile a man he is,” she interrupted with a mischievous grin.

Jay imagined her tempting Andy, who held such power over him; dangling herself teasingly before him to never be had, after he, Jay, had owned her with his body.

“Then you must dress in your best outfit, Gina, to show Andy how important he is,” he declared, his arousal now almost unbearable. She radiated pleasure at his words and pushed herself yet closer, fitting into every contour of his body.

“I think, Jay, that you must have been with many women in your life, no?” Damp and hot against him, she nuzzled at his neck.

“Not so many. I have a wife and a girlfriend,” he admitted, stroking her hair, “but I do not love either of them. My wife knows this and we are together for convenience but the girl…” he hesitated, “it has been very difficult to break with the girl. Although I do not love her, I do not want to hurt her.”

“This girl, then she loves you, no?”

“Well, that’s the strange part,” he murmured, half to himself. “I don’t think she loves me. It’s more that she thinks she needs me. She has her own boyfriend, but she won’t let me go.”

“Then she must be very selfish.”

He stroked her in assent, silent for a moment with his thoughts.

“How about you, Gina? A girl like you, you must have every man around chasing after you?” She pushed herself up beneath him and held his gaze, her lips quivering with truth.

“At the moment I think of no one special, Jay, only perhaps you. I look out for you every day, but it seems that you do not notice me. You do not look at me.” He said nothing, just stared back as she continued. “Let us not talk any more about these things. I am sorry I asked you about your girlfriends. Now you have made me feel a little foolish.”

Jay shook his head, sliding a hand onto her chest as if to keep the words within her. But she interlocked her fingers in his, trapping him until she could find solace.

“I have another great worry, but you will think it silly.”

“Not at all, Gina, but I can assure you it’s not that big.” He laughed at his joke but it was lost on Gina, and she continued.

“But it is a big worry, for me. You do not learn our language, and it seems Castello di Capadelli is nearly finished. So perhaps you will be leaving here very soon?”

“Not at all, Gina,” he said, as if such a thought had never occurred to him.

But she persisted. “If you do wish to leave here, you will tell me first? For it would be terrible for me to hear it from others.”

Jay cupped her face in his hand and kissed her in answer, hoping that it would say everything she wanted it to. She let his tongue breach her lips in response, offering no resistance as he began to massage her breasts through her blouse, and kept her arms locked around his neck. He travelled his hand down to her waist but froze from the burst of tension in her body, running through her bones like ice until he moved his hand back up again.

Jay kissed her more ardently now, wanting to convince her of his sincerity, and slipped his hand beneath her blouse and over her warm satiny skin.

He was starting to ache for Gina to explore his own body; he pressed harder against her so that she could have no doubt of his excitement. But the most that he seemed to be encouraging was the movement of Gina’s hands up and down his back in a panacean rhythm.

She gasped as he pushed his fingers into her mouth, but she licked them like a kitten and shuddered and murmured as they rubbed against her hard, erect nipple. He travelled his hand slowly southward again, hungry for her, but as it passed the waistline a swift motion from Gina’s hand intercepted it.

“I am sorry, Jay, tonight I am not ready. It is too early for me.” She stared up at him, afraid but resolute, her eyes swimming with a black that could not be pierced.

“It is me who should be sorry, Gina,” he sighed. “I did not mean to pressure you.”

“No, it is my fault. I should not have encouraged you. It was just that I was enjoying the evening with you so much and I did not want it to finish. And also I was enjoying what we were doing. But I just need a little more time. It is silly I know, but that is the way I am.” She sat up, refastened her blouse and pulled down her bra. “I think we have missed the end of the film. Should I rewind it?”

“We can finish it next time, Gina, it’s getting late anyway.” He stood up to leave, drained of everything and feeling strangely lost.

“Tomorrow you will not ignore me again, Jay? You will not punish me because I was without courage tonight? Because then I will be very sad.”

He cupped her chin in his hand and smiled, her words reminding him of his plans for the next day. “You have had a very busy weekend, Gina, and you must be tired.” She shook her head automatically. “But you worked this weekend, and the last weekend. When did you last have a day off work?”

“I cannot remember. It has been very busy. Maybe a month ago.” She cocked her head like a bird, her eyes questioning him.

“They are working you far too hard. Everybody else gets a break. Eamon and the boys pop home for a few days every month. I don’t think they are being very fair on you.”

“It is nice that you tell me that I work so much. Perhaps it’s for you that I do it—”

He cut her off, mercy and kindness held to his face like a mask.

“Well, tomorrow you must have the day off. You have earned it.”

“It is not possible, Jay. Tomorrow I have promised Signora Roberts that she may use my riding boots. So I must go in tomorrow.”

“Nonsense, Gina. Give me the boots and I will take them in, and I will leave them in reception for Mrs. Roberts.”

“It is very kind of you. But only if you are sure, Jay?”

He held her waist and looked long and deeply at her.

“I insist on it. You have a lie in, and take yourself shopping or something in the afternoon. I will be very disappointed if I see you anywhere around Castello di Capadelli tomorrow.”Twenty-eight

Isobel mounted her horse in one swift movement and watched in amusement as Jay scrambled on to his, eliciting a furtive leg up from the round-bellied owner. They were back at the dilapidated stables and she sat tall and dignified on her steed, clad in Gina’s riding boots and haloed by the fierce sun.

“This way, pardner,” she instructed, swinging round to face a narrow, dusty track that led deep into the trees.

“Would this be a good time for you to let me into the secret of how to do this?”

“Practice, Jay, lots of practice,” she said, trotting a few paces ahead and directing her words to the sky.

“Any other useful advice?” he shouted as she pulled further away.

“Wear a helmet!”

He feigned shock as he patted his bare head and made to follow her. But his horse insisted on stopping every few steps to peruse the grass, snaffling at the longest and most tender stalks with unconcealed indifference for her rider. He kicked at her sides, then tried again with more force, but she was immovable.

“What’s going on here then? Do I need to shout giddy up or something?” He arranged his face in grotesque puzzlement, so confident in his attractiveness that it mattered to neither of them.

“The problem is not the horse, Jay,” she joked, looking back as she cantered ahead of him. “A mare requires a firm hand, everyone knows that.”

She seemed to him at one with the horse, their forms merging and separating in an elegant dance that was at once savage and refined, animalistic and spiritual.

They followed the trail for about an hour, meandering through abandoned olive groves — the trees gnarled and twisted from age and freedom, no longer bearing fruit — and shady woodland paths, where lizards spread themselves in the blotches of sun and hoverflies bobbed up and down on invisible strings. Isobel stayed tantalisingly ahead of Jay, pausing to tease him only to pull ahead again, half in play and half in fear. He enjoyed her games and clowned around on his patient horse, clinging to its neck as if for dear life and pretending to be falling out of his saddle.

“For someone who has only ever been on a horse on a beach in Thailand, you seem to be doing pretty well,” she told him with a smile, finally allowing him to draw level with her. They were approaching a stream and the ground rose steeply on the other side.

“I don’t think my newly discovered talents are up to that though.” He gestured to the bank and Isobel nodded in amused agreement. “Maybe we can take a break for five minutes?” he continued. “I’m feeling a bit saddle sore.”

They dismounted and tethered their horses beside the stream. A large tree on the cusp of the water provided an ideal seat. Its long, fingered branches spread out over the water like a canopy and it had a strangely concave trunk like a natural arbour.

Jay turned to her as they nestled into the shady alcove. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun, Isobel.”

“Me neither,” she admitted in return, gazing out across the water, which seemed a thousand colours in the afternoon sun. They looked at the stream for a long time without speaking; Isobel dared not look at him and the air seemed heavy with soundless words. He leant across and kissed her, parting the air with his lips and holding them to hers as her face quivered beneath his. She pulled away and looked through him expressionless, not knowing which emotion to show.

“Did you like that, me kissing you?” His voice was low and anxious but wonderfully unafraid.

“Yes, you know I did.” She looked into his eyes but his face blurred and swirled into pieces as tears distorted her vision.

He put his hand slowly to her neck, gently pushing her head upwards so that the tears ran symmetrically down her cheeks, dividing her face into three.