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‘I hate you!’ Storm breathed, trembling with indignation. ‘David would never…’
Her protest was silenced as hard male lips claimed her mouth her body drawn against masculine contours and she was forced to endure an intimacy of touch she had always previously avoided. She stiffened within the embrace, her mouth closing stubbornly as she refused to respond.
Jago laughed softly.
‘You’ve got a lot to learn, Storm Templeton,’ he told her mockingly, ‘but I shall enjoy teaching you.’
‘I loathe you!’ Storm spat at him, pulling herself out of his arms.
He made no attempt to follow her, his expression thoughtfully assessing as it lingered on her dilated eyes.
‘You fear me,’ he corrected, startling her with his insight. ‘And you fear the emotions I might arouse, isn’t that more to the point? Is that why you chose David? Because he was nice and safe?’
‘You’ve no right to question me about my private life,’ Storm protested, fumbling with the door. ‘And whatever you may choose to think of your prowess, you do nothing for me.’
‘But I shall.’ Jago promised softly as she fled. ‘Believe me, Storm, I shall.’
* * *
Her first instinct was to go straight to David and tell him what had happened, but the tiny kernel of truth in Jago’s st
atement would not be denied. David hated trouble of any kind, and while she did not believe for one moment that he would ‘hand her over’ as Jago had suggested—she was not David’s possession, after all—she knew that he would probably try and reason her out of her present frame of mind, explaining away Jago’s comments as a form of teasing, or worse still a product of her imagination. She had always approved of his lack of jealousy, she reminded herself, so it was hardly fair now to wish that he might tell Jago in no uncertain terms that she belonged to him. Anyway, she had no need of David to defend her. Surely she was perfectly capable of telling Jago herself that he did not interest her? But somehow she had an idea that he would take ‘no’ for an answer.
She could still not quite believe that it had all happened. One moment they had been discussing work and the next… But no, that was not true, she acknowledged. From the moment he had looked at her in that disturbingly sensual manner she had known that he desired her. It had happened before and she had not felt the tremulous fear she felt now. But Jago Marsh was like no man she had ever known before, she acknowledged, and something deep inside her reacted to him whether she liked it or not. He aroused in her a primitive fear she had never known before, panicking her into all manner of foolish reactions. She would just have to strive to appear cool and in control of the situation, she told herself. Men like Jago Marsh did not normally have to work very hard to secure their sexual pleasures and doubtless once he realised that she did not intend to play ball, he would drop her and pursue someone else.
The shock of seeing him there in David’s office this morning had made her more vulnerable than she would normally be, but from now on she would be on her guard. He might desire her, but so what? an inner voice asked sardonically. She herself had said that he changed his girl-friends as frequently as he changed his shirts, and no doubt the sophisticated crowd he moved in thought no more of going to bed with someone than they did of shaking hands—possibly even less.
He was still on her mind later in the day when she left the studio, and she grimaced a little at her own stupidity in allowing him to monopolise so much of her attention as she unlocked the Mini. If Jago Marsh thought she was going to be another easy conquest, he had better think again. She loved David and would continue to do so. But did David love her? There had never been any mention of an engagement or marriage. David had never even held her in the way that Jago had this morning, making her intensely aware of the fact that he was entirely male and doing it quite deliberately. She had never felt the faintest sexual stirring in his arms, but then wasn’t that what she had wanted? So why did she suddenly long for David to sweep her off her feet and make love to her until she was irrevocably committed, and safely beyond the reach of Jago Marsh?
CHAPTER THREE
FIVE days Jago had given them, and no five days had ever passed so swiftly. In fact they were so hectic that Storm barely saw David, except to exchange a few brief words of conversation in passing. She had noticed, though, that he seemed very subdued and she was glad she had not burdened him with her own problems. His stoop seemed to have become even more pronounced, but instead of filling her with compassion, his defeatist attitude made her long to tell him to fight back, to show Jago that he was equally capable of running the station.
As far as the others were concerned David might as well have ceased to exist as Controller. Jago had been accepted with a wholehearted approval that grated on Storm’s raw nerves. She was beginning to feel like the last surviving victim of a catalyst. Everyone apart from herself seemed to have succumbed to Jago’s cool charm, and even David deferred to him quite willingly. Sue and Janet, the two office girls, were already mooning over their new boss’s good looks; Pete mentioned his name with every other breath, and talked unceasingly of his hopes that their connections with Jago might lead to a D.J. spot for him in London, and even the technicians were full of praise for the man whom Storm still thought of as an intruder.
Never had she been so thankful to see a Friday. Half-way through the morning the Beton tape had jammed, and the result was that Storm was trying to placate a furious Mr Beton with the promise that his ad would get double time in the afternoon.
She was with the technicians waiting for their verdict on how long it would be before the tape could be run when Ken, the younger of the two, piped up admiringly:
‘You should have seen Jago this morning, Storm. We were having problems with the stereo output, and he located the fault in about ten seconds flat. Said it was easy after nearly fifteen years in the business. You’d never get David doing anything like that.’
Stung into David’s defence, Storm said sarcastically: ‘Perhaps I ought to take this tape to him, then. Did no one ever warn you about worshipping graven images, young Ken?’
‘And did no one ever warn you about making snide remarks where they could be overheard?’ Jago drawled from her shoulder.
He had come in so quietly that Storm had not heard him. She spun round, her body reacting instantly to his presence, alarm feathering along her nerves. She had been working too hard, she told herself as she felt an inner tremor; that was all. Her nerves were on edge from the strain she had been under.
Jago ignored her, crouching down beside Ken, murmuring a few words of advice while Storm waited for her tape.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jago drawled, when Ken handed it to her. ‘Spoiled the nice picture you had built up of me, have I? What did you think I was? I was mending tapes like these when you were still in your pram. You complain about the equipment you have here. You should have seen the stuff we had on board the old Cynthia. And by the way,’ he added, his eyes merciless as they scrutinised her pale face, ‘the next time you feel like criticising me, have the guts to do it to my face.’
He was gone before she could retort, leaving her trembling with nervous reaction and other emotions she found it impossible to name.
She mustn’t let him get to her like this, she told herself as she took the tape back to the studio. She must never forget that they were engaged upon a war and the moment she let him overpower her she would have lost it.
She was just about to telephone Mr Beton when Sue came in.
‘Jago wants to see you,’ she said breathlessly, her expression envious.
