Free When the Siren Calls by Tom Barry Page A

have been doing in the corner all this time.”
    Jay laughed. “I suppose I’d better. But I guess you’ve a fairly good picture of the development from the brochure. So let me just point out a few things on the model.”
    He guided her to the far side of the display, pointing out where the new spa would be built as they squeezed into the narrow space between the model and the wall. Isobel asked a few questions about how it would all work, keen to monopolise him for as long as possible.
    “I have something that will answer that question better than I can,” he said. “I just need to get through here.”
    There was a second when Isobel might have moved from behind the model, the obvious thing to do. But something within her caused her to stay. Jay straightened his body, preparing to slide between her and the wall as she shrunk herself apologetically into the model. This surely was the moment for Isobel to move, the moment when it was clear that there just wasn’t quite enough space for him to comfortably get past. Yet still she stayed fixed to her spot. She felt the closeness of Jay’s body as he eased his way through, his upper body for a moment against her back as he touched his hands lightly onto her hips, as if to ensure their lower bodies did not touch. Isobel felt a strange disappointment that they did not touch, that she had not felt his manhood, or imagined she could feel it, against her backside. As he strode across the room she was overwhelmed with a mixture of selfdisgust and elation.
    “Now, where was I?” asked Jay when he returned, clutching a limp, postcard-sized leaflet that hardly seemed worth the effort.
    Pressed against my body was the answer that first came into Isobel’s mind, but she held that one back.
    “Talking about community. How you are creating a unique blend of Anglo-Saxon and Italian culture,” she said, meaning to be matter of fact but aware of a hint of teasing in her delivery.
    “I’m sure I could never have been quite that eloquent, Isobel,” he replied. Isobel smiled at the compliment and let him continue as she bathed in his words. “The truth is the original concept was to create a cosmopolitan community, something very international. But it just hasn’t worked out that way. And actually, I think in the end, it’s for the better.”
    Isobel nodded, becoming even more enraptured as he forswore omnipotence and gave luck its due.
    “So what went wrong with plan A?”
    “I just never expected the level of interest we have had from the local Italian market; they’ve already snaffled over a third of the properties, so I probably won’t be taking the marketing further than the UK.”
    “So what you’re saying is that you’ve just done too good a job, is that it?” Isobel raised her eyebrows, teasing him again, craving his response.
    “Maybe,” he said, pushing back his hair with feigned arrogance.
    Isobel laughed. “So anyone interested needs to get over to Tuscany pretty quick then?”
    He laughed. “I think I need someone like you on my marketing team, Isobel. Someone that is an embodiment of the beauty, elegance, and serenity that is Castello di Capadelli.” It was a light-hearted remark, delivered almost mockingly, but it did not match his eyes, which were deep with seriousness.
    Isobel almost blushed, enjoying the jousting. “Do you say that to every girl?”
    “Only if it’s true.” They were locked together in a moment of silence before he broke the spell. “But I must allow you to mingle. You must think very badly of me for monopolising your whole evening.”
    Isobel smiled, excitement running through her. “You have been the perfect host.”
    Seconds after Jay left, Peter appeared alongside her. “I thought you’d never stop talking,” he said. “We need to go or I’ll be late for Tokyo.”
    Isobel nodded and inched her way towards the door, willing Jay to break off his conversation with the three couples that had cornered him as he crossed the