‘I didn’t plan for David to go and leave you unprotected, if that’s what you mean,’ Jago announced in a hard voice. ‘But since he has, I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t take advantage of the fact.’
‘You’re despicable!’ Storm hissed fu
riously. ‘Why are you doing this? Isn’t it enough that you’ve taken the station from him?’
‘Don’t be a little fool,’ Jago replied harshly. ‘I haven’t taken the station away from him, as you put it, and as far as you’re concerned, the fact that you claim you’re in love with David has no bearing at all upon my actions, unless it’s to prove to you that you don’t begin to understand the meaning of the word.’
As he spoke his arm tightened, propelling her inexorably backwards until she was leaning against him, her head inches from his shoulder.
‘Relax,’ he breathed mockingly in her ear. ‘I’m not an exhibitionist, Storm—I don’t need an audience! You look as though you’re perching on the edge of a particularly sabre-toothed precipice.’
‘Because you’ve got bony knees,’ Storm protested untruthfully.
She was unnerved by his soft laughter, stirring her hair.
‘In that case sit a bit farther backwards,’ he suggested. ‘I’ve no objection to feeling your body against mine—unless it’s the restrictive presence of our clothes and your friends.’
For a moment she was too shaken to speak. An inner tension seemed to be building up inside her, making her immediately aware of everything about him, conscious of his body with every shocked nerve ending.
Beneath the silky shirt she could see the beginnings of the dark tangle of hairs on his chest, and she was disturbingly aware of the warm male scent of his body. She had never felt like this with David!
She wetted her lips nervously, freezing as his hand curved possessively against her waist. She tried to wriggle away unobtrusively, but he refused to let her.
One by one the others started to leave. Pete was deep in conversation with the blonde girl he had been admiring earlier. Storm sighed under her breath. It looked as though Pete had completely forgotten her. She would have to phone her father and ask him to pick her up.
Jago shot back the cuff of his shirt and glanced at his watch. ‘My antennae tell me that you’re going to need a lift, Storm.’
‘Not from you,’ she replied dangerously.
His eyebrows rose. She could see the dark shadowing along his jaw where his beard grew. His eyes, she realised with a start, were two completely different shades of grey, the outer ring much darker than the inner.
‘Frightened?’ he asked dulcetly.
Storm summoned a brittle smile. ‘No. I just wouldn’t like to take you out of your way.’
His smile was mocking. ‘You won’t,’ he promised, leaning forward to catch Pete’s attention. ‘I’ll take Storm home,’ he told the younger man crisply before she could protest. Any hopes Storm had had that Pete would take her himself died when she saw his face. Pete was far too engrossed in his blonde to worry about her!
‘Ready?’ Jago asked coolly.
Storm tried to control her inner tension. If only the pub was in walking distance of home—but it wasn’t, and if she insisted on ringing her father Jago would know that he had broken through her guard.
In the car park Jago took her arm, directing her to a large, dark car, parked near the door. When he bent his head to unlock it, Storm realised that the car was not black as she had thought, but dark green and ominously familiar. It wasn’t until they were both inside that she remembered from where.
‘It was you!’ she accused hotly. ‘You were the madman who nearly drove me into the ditch the other morning!’
‘If I had done it would have been your own fault,’ Jago replied equably. ‘You were driving on the wrong side of the road. Or had you forgotten?’
Storm stared mutinously out of the window. She wouldn’t dignify the taunt with a response. But then another unnerving thought struck her. ‘If this is your car, then you’re the man who’s bought the empty house next to ours.’
‘Full marks for deduction,’ he applauded lazily, without taking his eyes off the road.
Despite the luxurious comfort of her padded leather seat, Storm shivered with apprehension. To buy a house, Jago Marsh must be contemplating a lengthy stay in Wyechester. But David had told her that he was merely joining them in an advisory capacity, for three months!
Jago flicked a switch and the relaxing strains of Country and Western music filled the car. Storm could not relax, though, her muscles were bunched in mute protest, aching as she fought against the trembling that had begun the moment they left the pub. The moment Jago brought the powerful car to a halt outside her parents’ house she was reaching for the door handle.
Jago’s hand closed over hers with petrifying swiftness, his face disturbingly close. Storm froze, panic coursing through her body. She could feel the hardness of his arm against her breasts and knew from the way he had tensed that he had guessed she was wearing nothing beneath the silk blouse.
His cool voice broke through her panic. ‘You’ve locked the door—an accident, I take it?’