AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She heard the familiar toot of Pete’s car horn while she was putting on her make-up. The crowd Pete mixed with were essentially a casual lot, so Storm had donned tight-fitting black cord jeans, topped with a silky white blouse with a yoke that emphasised the fullness of her breasts and full sleeves gathered into a tight cuff. A brief matching cord waistcoat drew attention to her slim waist, giving her an almost mediaeval air, and as she applied her eyeshadow with a practised hand she heard Pete cheerfully returning her mother’s greeting.
Peach blusher highlighted her cheekbones, and a shiny lip gloss emphasised the sensuous curve of her mouth. She brushed her hair quickly, then slipped on her knee-length suede boots, zipping them closed.
‘Fancy dress, is it?’ her father asked teasingly when she opened the door, while Mrs Templeton enquired plaintively, ‘Oh, Storm, why don’t you wear one of your pretty dresses? You look like a boy!’
‘Not from where I’m standing she doesn’t,’ Pete announced with so much relish that Storm’s parents laughed. ‘Ready?’
Storm nodded.
’Something sure smells nice,’ Pete commented as he opened the passenger door of his small sports car for her.
‘Last birthday’s Chanel Number Five. A present from John,’ Storm told him. ‘Thank heavens for big brothers!’
‘As long as they don’t loom too protectively,’ Pete grinned as he slid behind the steering wheel.
It wasn’t very far to the pub favoured by Pete’s cronies, and although he drove his small car at a speed that some might have thought a little excessive, Storm knew that he was a reliable driver.
The car-park was full, and Pete let her out by the pub door while he found somewhere to leave the car when he joined her and ushered her inside they were greeted with cheers and cries of delight by their friends.
‘Long time no see,’ one of the girls commented to Storm. ‘Is it all over with you and David?’
Storm didn’t have time to reply. Pete was asking what she wanted to drink and she asked for a dry Martini. She wasn’t particularly fond of strong alcohol, and usually found one drink lasted her all evening.
‘What’s up, Storm?’ one of the others asked when they had all got their drinks and were seated round one of the tables. ‘You’re unusually quiet.’
‘It’s a case of an immovable object meeting an irresistible force,’ Pete joked.
Everyone laughed, and one of the boys said admiringly:
‘I’d like to meet the immovable object, then!’
Storm ignored their banter.
The pub originated from Tudor times and had recently been tastefully modernised by the brewery. During the renovations the builders had uncovered some of the original oak beams and a huge stone fireplace, which had now been incorporated into the decor. The result was extremely effective. Horse brasses glinted in the crackling flames from the fire, giving the room an air of cosy intimacy, and Storm stretched out her hands, revelling in its warmth. A movement by the door caught her eye and she heard Pete murmur softly;
‘I think your wish is about to be granted, Rick. Unless I’m mistaken here’s our immovable object.’ He rose, thrusting his glass into Storm’s hand. ‘Hang on to this, lovely. Our august boss has just walked in. I’ll go over and ask him to join us. Give the girls a thrill anyway.’
He winked and was gone before Storm had the chance to protest. The bar was filling up quickly and when Pete returned with Jago Marsh at his side, the only spare seat was a tapestry-covered stool at Storm’s side.
She acknowledged Jago’s general greeting with a tight smile. If she’d known there was the slightest chance that he might appear she would never have come. He was wearing close-fitting dark trousers and an open-necked shirt. His pants moulded the narrow outline of his hips, emphasising the muscled tautness of his thighs. Storm looked away, more shaken by his presence than she wanted to admit. He sat down next to her and she ignored him, engaging the girl on her right in conversation. When Pete called her name she looked up, thinking he was going, to ask her if she wanted another drink.
‘Bob and Sheila have just come in,’ he said instead. ‘How about perching on my knee so that they’ll have somewhere to sit?’
Some of the girls were already sitting with their boyfriends and, not wanting to be thought awkward, Storm got up. Pete was sitting on the opposite side of the glass-cluttered table and as she started to edge gingerly past the empty glasses, Jago’s fingers clamped determinedly round her wrist.
‘Use my knee, Storm,’ he said in a deceptively mild voice. ‘I’d hate you to have to pay for all those glasses.’
The others laughed. Storm looked at Pete, willing him to come to her rescue, but all his attention was on a particularly attractive blonde standing by the bar.
‘Give in gracefully,’ Jago murmured against Storm’s ear. ‘Pete isn’t going to help.’
‘Why did you have to come here?’ she began angrily, silenced by the sudden glint in Jago’s eyes, as his grip tightened and he pulled her against him, forcing her to accede to his wishes and perch herself, rather gingerly, on his lap.
She could feel the hard muscles of his thighs even through her own jeans and edged furtively away, alarm licking through her veins. There had been dozens of occasions when she had sat like this with a boy, but never, ever had she felt as vulnerable as she did right now.
‘If the mountain won’t come to Mahomet,’ Jago murmured, responding to her earlier question, laughing a little as her eyes widened in comprehension.
‘You mean you deliberately came here?’ she breathed, trying to catch Pete’s eye. Had he known all along what would happen? Her anger boiled up inside her. ‘You planned this deliberately, didn’t you?’ she accused, her tension mounting. ‘When I refused to have dinner with you. And David…’
