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‘I want you, Jago,’ Storm muttered mindlessly, brutally jerked out of her dream when he grasped her wrists, holding them above her head, while he studied her flushed face.
‘Now beg me to take you,’ he said slowly, in a hard voice. ‘Beg me, Storm, the way you begged me to spare David’s feelings.’
Revulsion surged through her, her mind suddenly crystal c
lear, her body stiffening with rejection, as she tensed beneath him. Had she really forgotten all his threats? And the scene she had interrupted in the library only hours before? No wonder he found it so effortless to stem his passion—it was probably only simulated anyway, she decided on a wave of self-disgust, and her eyes darkened as she tried to pull free.
’Let me go!’
Her unsteady whisper brought a mocking smile to his lips. ‘No way. We’ve reached the point of no return, Storm, and if you won’t say it now, you will in the final moment of possession.’
His claim scorched her with shame, its arrogant certainty making her writhe helplessly as his body lowered on to hers, her flailing hands pinioned effortlessly against him as his mouth fastened on hers in hard demand, ignoring all attempts to break free. Desire shuddered through her, but she fought against it, her mind no longer blunted by passion.
The pressure of his thighs hurt, sending panic ricocheting through her as she struggled frenziedly to escape. His mouth burned where it touched, her body ice-cold with fear.
‘Don’t—please!’
She felt him stiffen, his voice incredulous and bitter. ‘Skip the frightened virgin bit. David might go for it, but it turns me off.’ When she didn’t move his weight suddenly shifted, and light almost blinded her as he switched on a bedside lamp, his hands cupping her face, forcing it into the light as he studied her. ‘The truth this time, Storm. Are you trying to tell me that you’re a virgin?’
His voice had a flat metallic ring, and Storm closed her eyes, unable to bear the expression in his.
‘You know I am,’ she said bitterly. ‘You’ve thrown it in my face often enough—telling me I’m not womanly, telling me…’
‘That was when I… Oh, God!’ he swore suddenly, rolling away from her and leaving her cold and numb. ‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded in a harsh voice, ‘and for heaven’s sake stop looking at me like that!’
He had pulled on his robe, his face oddly pale in the soft light. He disappeared and came back with her clothes, which he handed to her in grim silence.
’I don’t rape virgins,’ he told her derisively. ‘Get dressed, I’m taking you home. My God,’ he burst out when she didn’t move, ‘you crazy little fool! Have you any idea…’ He shook his head slowly, as though it pained him, and stared broodingly down at her. ‘Of course you damned well don’t,’ he said bitterly at last. ‘Well, I’m not David, Storm, I can’t take you to my bed and act the heroic lily-white knight. For two pins I could damn you and your precious virginity to eternal hell. Have you any idea…’ He stopped himself with visible effort, his muscles rigid beneath the thin silk robe as he scooped up the quilt and flung it over her. ‘Get dressed,’ he commanded again, and turned on his heel.
Just for a moment she had an insane desire to beg him to come back to her; to tell him there was no one she would rather have initiate her into becoming a woman, but the set of his shoulders killed the impulse as it was born, her voice shaky as she whispered, ‘But you said…’
‘I don’t give a damn what I said, Storm,’ he told her savagely. ‘Get dressed—unless you’re sure you can take the inevitable.’
His expression left her in no doubt that he meant what he said. When he had gone, she pulled on her clothes with hands that trembled, and ten minutes later she was sitting silently at his side as he drove her home.
‘I’m not going to apologise for what happened,’ he told her harshly as he pulled up in front of the house. ‘So for God’s sake stop looking at me like that. No—no tears, please,’ he swore as he saw the betraying glisten on her cheeks. ‘You’ve still got your precious virginity—now get out before I take you back with me and really give you something to cry about!’
It seemed that she had spent the whole night getting dressed and undressed, Storm thought miserably as she crept into her own cold bed.
Of course she couldn’t sleep; all she could think about was how she had felt in Jago’s arms and the unappeased ache deep down inside the pit of her stomach. If only he hadn’t made that impossible demand, she thought wretchedly she might now have been sleeping in his arms. The thought caused fresh tears.
She drifted off to sleep towards dawn, and woke up to the rattle of tea cups. At first she thought she must still be at Jago’s, but when she opened her eyes, she gave a gasp of startled surprise. ‘Ian!’
‘And where were you last night, you dirty stop-out?’ her brother teased with a grin, dropping down beside her when her smile crumbled and tears filled her eyes. ‘Hey, come on! This isn’t my tough, battling sister…’
‘Is that how you see me?’ she asked forlornly, taking the handkerchief he proffered. ‘Am I really so unfeminine?’
‘Want to tell me about it?’ he invited. ‘And don’t say there’s nothing to tell. When my kid sister comes home in the early hours of the morning and bursts into tears the moment I speak to her, it doesn’t take a genius to work out what’s happened. Who is he?’ he teased. ‘Anyone I know? Lord, it’s not old David, is it?’
Storm shook her head.
‘No, it’s not David, but don’t ask me any more, Ian. It’s hopeless anyway. He doesn’t give a damn about me. Tell me about you. Did you know that John’s getting married?’
They caught up on each other’s news over breakfast, which Ian insisted on preparing, his pyjama-clad body fit and muscular, his skin tanned from long exposure to the sun.
‘I wanted to get back in time for your birthday,’ he told her over a second cup of coffee, ‘but owing to a holdup at Heathrow I didn’t quite make it. Just as well really, I never stopped to think that you might be out.’
‘It was only a party down the road,’ Storm told him expressionlessly, ‘you could have come with me. I’d better go and have a shower and get dressed.’
