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‘Another of David’s little tricks. Your David’s been a busy man while he’s been in Oxford. He and Townley were in this together. No doubt they expected to pick up the franchise for the station quite easily once they’d disposed of me. Townley probably discovered that I couldn’t raise enough finance to carry the full burden of this station, but what he forgot to take into account is that I have friends who can.’
‘So you’re now financially in control of the station as well?’
Jago grimaced at her bitter tone. ‘It’s quite normal and above board. David had money in the venture, and I’m a long way from being the only shareholder, but yes, since you ask, now I am in control.’
‘I’m surprised you want to keep me to my contract in view of my relationship with David,’ Storm said sarcastically. ‘Only a
n hour ago you were ready to accuse me of trying to ruin the station, and yet…’
‘It was a logical deduction,’ he told her dryly. ‘After all, you’ve never stopped ramming David down my throat. But whatever your other failings you are good at your job. Your campaigns have flair and originality, but don’t expect David to be pleased when he finds out I’m holding you to your contract.’
‘I’m sure he won’t be,’ Storm returned coolly. ‘His girlfriend working for the man who ruined him. I can’t say I blame him either.’
Jago smiled, his eyes cold. ‘You are a fool, aren’t you?’ he said softly. ‘David doesn’t give a damn about you, Storm. Angie Townley’s more his idea of something warm and cuddly to take to bed. No, he was just using you to get at me. He knew damn well I’d think you were implicated in his nasty little schemes and he knows you well enough to gauge your reaction when I faced you with it. I’ll bet right at this moment he’s congratulating himself on having lost the station its advertising department. The I.B.A. has granted me a temporary licence for twelve months and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if, at the end of that time, David and Townley hoped to have a nice little package put together to get the franchise back again.’
‘You’re wrong. I know you’re wrong,’ Storm told him. Faint fingers of sunshine touched the strong column of his throat and she couldn’t help comparing the tanned firmness of his skin with David’s pallid, unhealthy flesh. She pushed the thought away, appalled by the instinctive leaping of her senses and the overwhelming desire to go up to him and place her lips against that bared flesh. For a moment she almost fainted with the shock of what was happening to her. It was desire, she told herself helplessly; physical desire, that was all; and the demanding urgency of it confirmed all her worst fears about herself.
In some secret part of her she had always known she could feel like this, and she had always feared the power of an emotion that would hold her in chains against her will, making her a slave to its rapacious demands.
‘Storm?’ Jago was watching her with a glint in his eyes that made her wonder how much she had betrayed. ‘Go home early,’ he told her abruptly. ‘I’ll take you myself. I have some business to catch up with, but I can work as well at home as I can here. Get your coat.’
She wanted to refuse, but somehow the words would not come. She felt as though she were living in a dream—a dream, more like a nightmare! In her office she dialled David’s number again, listening to the repetitive ring and hanging up with a faint sigh. Obviously he wasn’t there.
He couldn’t have done those dreadful things. He couldn’t be planning to ruin the station. Surely he would have given her some hint… some warning…
Jago drove her home in silence, and as Storm stepped out of the car she mentally braced her shoulders, telling herself that she must not cast any shadows on her parents’ last evening at home.
As she had suspected Mrs Templeton had gone to a good deal of trouble over dinner.
‘You’re early!’ she exclaimed when Storm walked into the kitchen. ‘Has Mr Marsh gone?’ When Storm said that he had she sighed. ‘I was going to ask him to have dinner with us. A little thank you for offering to keep an eye on you while we’re away. Men who live on their own appreciate the odd family meal.’
Storm laughed. ‘Oh, Mum, Jago Marsh doesn’t need mothering,’ she told her. ‘I’ll bet he’s got women lining up to cook his meals.’
‘I don’t know what you’ve got against him. I thought he was charming.’
Her parents were flying from Heathrow, and Storm went with them to wave them off. Driving her father’s car back along the empty country roads during the afternoon, she made a detour to the village where David lived. All at once she couldn’t wait until the evening to find out what had been going on.
His car was parked outside and she gave a sigh of relief. At least he was in.
She knocked on the door and in due course he appeared, dressed in faded baggy jeans and an old sweater.
‘Storm!’ He looked surprised and, Storm thought, biting her lip, not very pleased.
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, stepping to one side so that she could enter the small living room. The table was covered in papers and Storm glanced at them, noticing David’s flurried tidying up.
‘I’ve been trying to ring you since yesterday,’ she began, looking round for an empty chair.
‘I’ve been busy. Couldn’t whatever it is wait until tonight?’
‘Busy? With work on the shop in Oxford?’
There was a momentary hesitation, then he said evasively, ‘Yes. Well, now that you’re here I’ll make a cup of tea.’
No welcome kiss, Storm noticed ruefully, no attempt to take her in his arms, even though it was several days since she had seen him. On an impulse she stood up, going up to him and sliding her arms round his neck.
’Don’t I get a kiss?’ she asked softly. David’s cottage fronted on to the main road, and as he bent his head rather awkwardly she caught a familiar dark green flash as a car drove by, and Jago’s eyes met hers for a brief second before he disappeared.
She tried to find the familiar comfort in David’s embrace, but it wasn’t there, probably never had been there except in her imagination, and she guessed from the hurried manner in which he released her that he was aware of it too.
