Craving Her Boss's Touch Page 8

  ‘Perhaps,’ she agreed noncommittally, her eyes faintly hazy with a pain she wasn’t ready to admit to, and she was thankful when the subject was dropped. Only now, away from Jago’s disturbing presence, could she start to analyse her reactions to him, and yet for some reason she found herself reluctant to do so.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE telephone rang while Storm and her parents were watching television.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Mr Templeton told Storm, disappearing into the hall. A few moments later he reappeared.

  ‘It’s for you,’ he told Storm. ‘David.’

  David! Her pulses leapt—but not with excitement, she acknowledged unhappily. What she was experiencing was guilt. For the first time it occurred to her to question David’s feelings for her and wonder why he had never tried to put their relationship on a more intimate basis. The question had never bothered her before. David respected her, but now she wondered if it was respect or merely lack of desire that kept their romance so tepid.

  His voice sounded a little strained, and Storm waited for him to tell her why he had elected to stay on in Oxford.

  ‘Is something wrong, David?’ she asked him when several minutes had gone by without an explanation. It wasn’t like David to phone merely for a chat.

  ‘You could say that,’ he said abruptly. ‘Storm, I’m leaving the station. I have no choice. Marsh has made it pretty plain that he means to take over, so I’m getting out while I can.’

  ‘But, David, you can’t do that! The station is you!’ Storm protested, knowing even as she spoke that she was lying. The station was now indisputably Jago’s.

  ‘I’ve had an offer for my shares—not that I hold that many, and I’ve decided to take it up. I’m using the money to go into business with a friend of mine in Oxford. He owns a bookshop and I’m going in as his partner. Nothing as grand as being Controller of Radio Wyechester, but I doubt if Jago would have allowed me to retain that title much longer.’

  There was self-pity in the words, but Storm barely took it in. She couldn’t get over the fact that David had made these decisions without a word to her, and she felt as though a protective layer of skin had been ripped away from her, forcing her to see things she had previously ignored.

  ‘If it’s what you want, David,’ she sighed. ‘But what about us?’

  ‘Us?’ Was it her imagination or was the word guarded? ‘It doesn’t make any difference to us, Storm—unless you were more interested in my position than me.’

  Unhappiness choked her for a second. ‘That’s a hateful thing to say!’ she whispered. By rights she should be the one making the accusations, and she shivered a little with apprehension. She could have sworn she knew David inside out, and yet all at once she felt as though she did not know him at all.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she asked.

  There was silence, then he replied defensively, ‘I thought you might let it slip out before I’d got everything fixed up. I didn’t want Marsh to know until I was sure myself.’

  ‘When will you be back?’ Storm asked him, her mind still trying to grapple with what he had told her. David running a bookshop! It would suit him, she acknowledged with a shock. She could just see him in shabby tweeds poring over some ancient volume.

  ‘I don’t know.’ He sounded evasive. ‘Don’t do anything stupid yourself, Storm,’ he warned her. ‘When the news breaks Jago is going to look round for a scapegoat. He can say what he likes, but he needs me more than he thinks. He still doesn’t know his way round the station, and he could waste one hell of a lot of time and money finding it.’ He sounded as though the thought gave him a good deal of satisfaction.

  ‘I tried to speak to you this afternoon,’ he went on, ‘but you were out.’

  ‘We went to see Mr Harmer,’ Storm told him mechanically. ‘I think we’ve secured his advertising.’

  There was a pause, and then David’s voice, faintly metallic, over the wires, saying with false enthusiasm, ‘Clever girl! I’ve got to go now. We’ll get together when I get home.’

  He hung up before she could ask him when he would be coming home, and she shivered as she replaced the receiver. She had never thought for one moment that David would give up the station without a fight. What pressure had Jago brought to bear on him to make him do so? Had he threatened to tell the I.B.A. that he didn’t think David would ever make a go of it? Storm wouldn’t put it past him. He was just the ruthless sort of bastard who would do something like that, she reflected. God, how she hated him! Her fists were clenched tight with the violence of her anger. He had said he would obliterate David from her mind. And from her life? She was letting her imagination run away with her, she told herself; Jago Marsh was not the sort of man to let mere desire for a woman colour his decisions. No, his desire to get rid of David had nothing to do with her.

  ‘Something wrong?’ Richard Templeton asked when Storm rejoined them. She was moving like a sleepwalker, her eyes dull and clouded.

  ‘David’s leaving the station,’ she told her parents dully. ‘Apparently it’s all arranged. He’s joining a friend in Oxford who owns a bookshop as a partner…’

  ‘And never told you a word about it until it was a fait accompli?’ Storm’s father asked in thinly veiled irony. ‘I think it’s time you started asking yourself where you stand in David’s life, Storm, and he in yours.’

  ‘There were reasons,’ Storm responded defensively. ‘He didn’t want anyone at the station to know…’

  ‘Anyone? Is that all you are to him?’

  Storm felt faintly sick. Two days ago she would have denied the question without hesitation, but since then her life and emotions had been turned upside down, her eyes opened to things she had never noticed before.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted with pain. ‘All I do know is that somehow Jago Marsh is responsible for David leaving, and I hate him for it,’ she said childishly.

  ‘Aren’t you jumping to conclusions?’ her father commented mildly. ‘You know, love, loyalty is a good thing in its way, but sometimes it can be taken too far—it’s called fanaticism,’ he teased gently.

  There was a tight ball of mingled tears and anger at the back of Storm’s throat.

  ‘Is that a kind way of telling me I’m a fanatic?’ she asked.

  Her father’s eyes were gentle. ‘No, I’m just reminding you that even the best of us can sometimes be guilty of closing our eyes to what we don’t want to see. No one forced David to make the decision to leave—he did it of his own volition. Now I’m not saying that he might not have had some justification,’ he added when Storm opened her mouth to protest, ‘but I’m sure he isn’t the martyr you seem to believe. Think, Storm, he’s known for some time that Jago would be joining you, but he waits until now to make his decision. If you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit that it’s more the action of a coward than a hero. David is no match for Jago Marsh and he knows it.’

  ‘You’ve only met Jago once,’ Storm retorted, stung into a fresh defence of David.

  ‘My dear,’ Mr Templeton said very dryly, ‘everything about him proclaims the type of man he is. He won’t suffer fools gladly. You have the right to think of David however you choose, Storm, but you must remember that you can’t impose your views on others. They too are free to make their own choice. Think, child, you’ve always had a soft spot for a lame dog, and if you’re honest you’ll admit that it is exactly what David is and always will be. If you tie your life to his, he’ll lean on you all through it. Are you strong enough to carry that sort of burden? Be honest with yourself, Storm, and don’t let loyalty blind you to reality.’

  ‘I suppose you think Jago Marsh would make a better husband,’ Storm said recklessly, tears not far away. ‘Well, if you do, it’s you who are avoiding reality this time—Jago Marsh wouldn’t even begin to understand the degree of commitment it takes to make a marriage!’

  * * *

  It was obvious to Storm the moment she walked into the office the next morning
that the news of David’s resignation had broken. Pete and Sue were so deep in conversation that they barely noticed her approach until Sue looked up. She flushed rather defensively and muttered something about seeing to the post, leaving Storm alone with Pete.

  ‘So old David’s turned tail and run,’ Pete commented unkindly. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised. Best thing all round, if you ask me.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t,’ Storm said bitterly. ‘And I don’t know how you can say that, after all that David’s done…’

  ‘Oh yeah? Like drop a soggy wet blanket over everything we’ve ever come up with that might make the station a success. Sure I’m going to miss him like crazy,’ he jeered callously. ‘Sneaky too. I bet you didn’t know what was going on, did you?’

  His words were too close to the truth for comfort, and Storm flushed angrily.

  ‘He didn’t want to do anything before, because he thought that he and Jago Marsh could work together amicably,’ she retorted stiffly.

  Pete lifted his eyes to heaven. ‘God help us,’ he murmured piously. ‘She actually believes it! How naïve can you get! Come down off your cloud, Storm. Face facts. David has handed in his resignation because the competition is just too stiff for him and that’s the truth, only you’re too damned stubborn to admit it.’

  It was what her father had said, only put far less gently, but Storm ignored him, awareness suddenly prickling over her as a door opened in the corridor. She knew without looking round who it was. Dear God, she wondered helplessly, how had everything about him become so familiar to her in so short a space of time?

  She turned in time to see Jago’s eyes graze her skin, her grey jumper and lavender skirt no protection at all against those dissecting eyes. She gave a start when she realised that he wasn’t alone. Sam Townley, their main backer, was with him, and Sam was looking far from pleased. No doubt Jago had been trying to force Sam to dig a little deeper into his pocket, Storm thought in grim satisfaction. He’d need a mechanical bulldozer to do that. Her smile faded as she saw the girl emerging from the office behind the two men: Angie Townley. Storm’s mouth compressed. She didn’t like the supermarket baron’s daughter. Angie had a flat in London and a job which she vaguely described as freelance modelling. She was exactly Jago’s type, Storm reflected, watching the way the blonde girl draped herself across his lean body, her mouth pouting provocatively, as her eyes slid warningly over Storm.

  The trembling awareness she had felt deep in the pit of her stomach the moment she saw Jago increased as he walked towards her, Angie’s eyes spitting fire.

  ‘Waiting for something, Storm?’ he drawled as she stood rooted to the spot.

  The awareness fled, replaced by red-hot anger. ‘Yes,’ she told him through gritted teeth, ‘I wanted to have a word with you, Mr Marsh.’

  His eyes narrowed at her challenging tone, but there was no other acknowledgement to show that he had seen her anger. He pushed back his cuff and glanced impatiently at his watch, and the action inflamed Storm’s smouldering temper.

  ‘Don’t worry—what I have to say to you won’t delay you for your lunch appointment,’ she told him pointedly, staring through Angie.

  ‘No,’ Jago agreed coldly, ‘it won’t. Pete,’ he instructed the D.J., ‘give Angie and Mr Townley an inspection of the studios, will you. I won’t be very long,’ he told them as Pete hurried forward. He closed the door to his office and turned to face Storm, his eyes like splinters of ice. ‘Don’t you ever talk to me in front of anyone else like that again,’ he warned her.

  ‘But it’s okay for me to do it in private?’ Storm lashed back. ‘Some chance!’

  ‘Come off it, Storm.’ His change of mood caught her off guard. ‘I know you’re not indifferent to me, but you’ve made your token gesture for the day, so what do you want?’

  ‘David phoned me,’ she began, refusing to be put off by his steely inspection.

  ‘To cry on your shoulder?’

  Something seemed to shiver between them, making the atmosphere in the small room dangerously explosive, and Storm lashed out at him, trying to destroy whatever it was that triggered off the emotion she could almost taste, but Jago caught her wrist in an inflexible grip, forcing her arm back, until she was biting her lip to prevent herself from crying out loud.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t, my beauty,’ he warned her softly. ‘I’m not your precious David, Storm Templeton. You hurt me and I hurt you right back—and on this occasion the muscle’s all on my side.’

  ’And don’t you just love it!’ Storm flashed at him. She must be crazy doing this, she thought numbly as she saw the anger leaping to life and knowing it was too late to contain it. The violence of her own response to it shocked her, freezing the hot words clamouring for utterance. She was used to her own quickly flaring temper, the sudden spurt of rage followed by the equally sudden calm, but never before had she ever been moved to such intense fury—never had she actually wanted to strike someone and physically hurt them—yes, actually inflict pain—as she had wanted to do to Jago Marsh. Her lack of self-control was humiliating and her hands clenched into small mute fists.

  ‘God knows I’ve done my best to be patient with you, Storm,’ Jago said savagely. ‘You really believe in trying your luck, don’t you? Or is it just blind trust—like that blind “love” you claim to have for David? You think I’ve got more control of my temper than you have of yours, is that it?’

  As though his words had triggered off an automatic response Storm responded heatedly, ‘I do love David. I do love him.’

  ‘Like hell you do,’ Jago returned flatly. ‘Now I’ve got just five minutes, so tell me what you wanted.’

  ‘It’s David,’ Storm whispered. ‘As if you didn’t know. How could you do this to him? How could you force him to leave the station he’s built up from nothing? Don’t you care that you’ve stripped his pride to the bone and made him look nothing in the eyes of everyone else? Or does that kind of thing give you some sort of kick?’

  She had made him angry—very angry, but nothing would make her back down. In some odd way the mounting tension within the confining walls of the small office stimulated rather than frightened her. Jago’s immobile stance challenged and she rose to the implicit challenge, her breath coming jerkily between her lips as his eyes slitted, their smouldering heat grazing her skin, his jaw taut where a muscle beat sporadically against the tanned skin.

  ‘Finished?’ Quiet though his voice was it stopped Storm in her tracks. ‘Good,’ he said softly as she licked dry lips. ‘Now it’s my turn to indulge in a few home truths. You see yourself as David’s champion, don’t you, Storm, righting the wrongs imposed by a cruel oppressor—namely myself. Has it never occurred to you that you’re usurping his role? God, you’re incredible!’ he told her. ‘How you can sit there and accuse me of humiliating him I just don’t know. What the hell do you think you’re doing to him? You haven’t just humiliated the guy, you’ve damned near emasculated him as well!’

  Storm went paper-white, clutching at the desk for support.

  ‘No!’ she moaned protestingly. ‘It isn’t like that…’

  ‘Of course it’s like that,’ Jago said softly. ‘Now I know he’s never made it with you, and he never will, will he, Storm? Do you enjoy turning him into a sexless pet dog—does that turn you on? What the hell are you, Storm, or daren’t you put a name to it?’

  ‘It’s not true! I’m not like that!’ She ached with a pain that could not be ignored, her heart beating feverishly against her ribs. She felt as though she’d been ripped apart and was slowly bleeding to death with Jago watching her, his cold grey eyes following every betraying gesture.

  ‘Stop looking at me like that,’ she stammered, covering her face with her hands. ‘I’m not like that!’

  ‘Aren’t you?’ Jago pressed savagely, tearing her hands away from her eyes and forcing her to meet the sardonic coldness of his. ‘Prove it to me, then, Storm. Give me one instance of when you’ve let pure instinct dictate your act
ions. Give me one example of when you’ve been a woman first!’

  Sickness clawed at the pit of her stomach. There was only one occasion, and he shouldn’t need reminding of it. A shudder began somewhere deep inside her, pain spreading slowly through her, every instinct warning her to escape. This man was dangerous. He had torn her with the savagery of his words and now he meant to destroy her pride and leave her bleeding at his feet.

  She looked up at him with blank eyes, backing away from him towards the door, but it was too late. His shadow fell between her and the door. She knew he had seen her instinctive withdrawal, and his lips tightened, twisting sarcastically.

  ‘Look at me, Storm,’ he commanded softly.

  She looked down at the floor. If he saw her eyes he would know what he had done to her. When she felt his fingers on her chin, she closed them, gritting her teeth, as they caressed her throat and the smooth hollows behind her ears.

  She felt his breath graze her skin. ‘Open your eyes, Storm. I want you to look at me.’

  Panic coursed through her. She shivered and knew he had felt her reaction. ‘Now what have I said to provoke this reaction?’ Jago mused thoughtfully above her, his hands sliding over her back, propelling her against him. ‘Whatever it was, it hurt, didn’t it, Storm?’

  ‘There’s no way you could hurt me,’ she denied breathlessly, opening her eyes.

  He was looking straight at her, his eyes lazily amused. ‘Is that so? I should have thought there were any number of ways,’ he said quietly, his hands tightening meaningfully over her frail bones. ‘At a guess I’d say you’d never had a lover, Storm,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘Poor David, I’ll bet he doesn’t have the faintest idea about what you’re keeping hidden under all that ice.’

  ‘I thought you just said I couldn’t be a woman,’ Storm countered unwisely, wriggling away from the sensuous movement of his hands over her hips.