Craving Her Boss's Touch

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Craving Her Boss's Touch Page 4

by Penny Jordan


  ‘I agree that we have a long way to go,’ she began, intending to mention the decrepit state of some of their equipment, but Jago stopped her, saying dryly.

  ‘I’m glad we agree on something, but you certainly believe in the understatement, don’t you? For “a long way”, I would substitute “all the way”. You haven’t even taken the first step in the right direction.’

  ‘But no doubt we will, under your capable tutelage!’ Storm shot back resentfully.

  Jago inclined his head briefly as though in assent. His eyes bored into her.

  ‘It’s to be hoped so,’ he agreed. ‘Now, if I can have your attention for a moment, all of you. The first thing we need to know before you can become a success is why you’re at present a failure.’ He looked round the room, ignoring Storm’s rebellious disdain.

  He certainly had a way of delivering a snub that was all his own, she had to acknowledge seconds later when his eyes returned to her flushed face, and lingered, looking straight through her, while the others shuffled uncomfortably and looked at one another for support. Why didn’t David say something? Storm wondered helplessly. Surely he had formulated some defence for the attack which he must have known would be coming? Surely he wasn’t going to let Jago Marsh sweep in here and simply take over? But it certainly looked that way.

  ‘I’m going to take five days to look round and see what’s to be done and then I shall hold a round-the-table meeting to get your views,’ Jago told them crisply when no one spoke.

  ‘Five days—is that all?’ Storm muttered under her breath, willing David to defend their venture and himself. ‘Even God took six!’

  ‘You can go now,’ Jago told them coolly, gathering up his papers. ‘All except you, Storm. I have something to say to you—in private,’ he added, as David showed signs of lingering.

  Storm held her breath waiting for David to tell Jago that anything he had to say to her in private could be said to him, but to her dismay he merely gave her a sympathetic smile before following the others out of the office.

  ‘Well now,’ said Jago when they were alone, ‘that’s quite an act you’ve got together there. Want to tell me why?’

  ‘What did you expect?’ Storm asked dangerously. ‘I know your views on women in the media, and I hate the way you’re pushing David about. Well, as far as I’m concerned, he’s still Controller here and I take my orders from him.’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ Jago drawled cynically. ‘The day David Winters can bring himself to give an order—that I’ve got to see!’

  ‘Don’t you criticise David! He’s worth ten of you.’

  ‘Not so far as the I.B.A. are concerned.’

  Impossible to deny the truth of that statement, much as she would have wanted to. Angry tears weren’t far away, and Storm blinked them back.

  ‘All this concern, and for old David! I’m impressed.’ The derogatory tones could not be ignored, and drawing herself up to her full height, Storm choked back:

  ‘Why shouldn’t I be concerned for him? I happen to be in love with him!’

  She must surely have imagined the incredulity in those narrowed grey eyes, she told herself seconds later, when it had been banished to be replaced with a satirical smile. ‘Are you indeed? You do surprise me.’

  His tone caught her off guard, making her say defensively, ‘You find it hard to believe that David could love me?’

  ‘Not particularly that he could,’ came the ambiguous response, ‘but that he has. He certainly hasn’t taught you to purr instead of scratch,’ he added contemplatively, his eyes assessing her stiffening body.

  ‘So you’re in love with David. Do you sleep together?’

  The question threw her, making her colour vividly. ‘What does it matter if we do?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘Our relationship doesn’t affect our work, if that’s what you’re implying.’

  ‘I can see that. He’d have let me tear you to pieces back there, wouldn’t he? He’s not the man for you, Storm,’ Jago said softly. ‘He’ll never tame you…’

  ’I don’t want to be tamed!’ Storm told him defiantly, her eyes widening as she realised what she had betrayed.

  Jago watched her. ‘So that’s it. You don’t love David,’ he told her positively, ‘you’re using him as a means of keeping your feelings in cold storage. Well, you can’t do that for ever.’

  ‘Who’s going to stop me?’ Storm responded angrily, wondering how she had allowed herself to be manoeuvred on to this dangerous subject. ‘You?’

  There was a tiny pause when she wished as she had never wished for anything in her life before that she had not added that foolish, challenging word, and then, observing the satisfaction gleaming in the grey eyes watching her, knew that she had been deliberately goaded into it.

  ‘Why not?’ Jago drawled smoothly, his fingers reaching out to brush the curls back from her cheek. Even that light touch was enough to make Storm back nervously away from him, her defences alerted to the danger he represented.

  ‘Don’t touch me!’ she choked fiercely, but he merely laughed, and moved towards her, his eyes lingering on the rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath their thin covering of silk.

  ‘If you really are in love with David, my touch won’t have any power to affect you, will it?’ he murmured logically, his eyes almost mesmerising her. ‘But you don’t love him, do you, Storm?’

  ‘Of course I do!’ she protested. ‘Why are you doing this to me? Why can’t you leave me alone?’

  ‘Why? Because you’re an extremely desirable young woman, with a body that excites me. I want you, Storm,’ he told her suddenly, shocking her with the baldness of his statement. ‘And what I want, I get.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want you!’ Storm protested vehemently, emotion darkening her eyes to the colour of pansies. ‘I love David.’

  Jago looked at her for a moment and in his eyes she saw the determination of a man used to getting his own way. It took all the self control she had at her command to hold that gaze.

  ‘You’re a liar,’ he told her, ‘on both counts, and before too long I’ll prove it to you.’

  ‘I’m going straight to David to tell him what you’ve just said!’ Storm told him furiously, but the steely grip of his fingers on her arms sliced off her protests, his eyes dark as they bored into hers.

  ‘You do just that,’ he told her softly, ‘and you’ll find out exactly how little your precious David cares about you. Once he knows I want you he’ll drop you like a hot potato. All David Winters wants from life is peace and quiet, and if he thinks letting me have you will get it for him, he will wrap you up himself in pretty paper and hand you over tied up in pink ribbons.’

  ‘I hate you!’ Storm breathed, trembling with indignation. ‘David would never…’

  Her protest was silenced as hard male lips claimed her mouth her body drawn against masculine contours and she was forced to endure an intimacy of touch she had always previously avoided. She stiffened within the embrace, her mouth closing stubbornly as she refused to respond.

  Jago laughed softly.

  ‘You’ve got a lot to learn, Storm Templeton,’ he told her mockingly, ‘but I shall enjoy teaching you.’

  ‘I loathe you!’ Storm spat at him, pulling herself out of his arms.

  He made no attempt to follow her, his expression thoughtfully assessing as it lingered on her dilated eyes.

  ‘You fear me,’ he corrected, startling her with his insight. ‘And you fear the emotions I might arouse, isn’t that more to the point? Is that why you chose David? Because he was nice and safe?’

  ‘You’ve no right to question me about my private life,’ Storm protested, fumbling with the door. ‘And whatever you may choose to think of your prowess, you do nothing for me.’

  ‘But I shall.’ Jago promised softly as she fled. ‘Believe me, Storm, I shall.’

  * * *

  Her first instinct was to go straight to David and tell him what had happened, but the tiny kernel of truth in Jago’s st
atement would not be denied. David hated trouble of any kind, and while she did not believe for one moment that he would ‘hand her over’ as Jago had suggested—she was not David’s possession, after all—she knew that he would probably try and reason her out of her present frame of mind, explaining away Jago’s comments as a form of teasing, or worse still a product of her imagination. She had always approved of his lack of jealousy, she reminded herself, so it was hardly fair now to wish that he might tell Jago in no uncertain terms that she belonged to him. Anyway, she had no need of David to defend her. Surely she was perfectly capable of telling Jago herself that he did not interest her? But somehow she had an idea that he would take ‘no’ for an answer.

  She could still not quite believe that it had all happened. One moment they had been discussing work and the next… But no, that was not true, she acknowledged. From the moment he had looked at her in that disturbingly sensual manner she had known that he desired her. It had happened before and she had not felt the tremulous fear she felt now. But Jago Marsh was like no man she had ever known before, she acknowledged, and something deep inside her reacted to him whether she liked it or not. He aroused in her a primitive fear she had never known before, panicking her into all manner of foolish reactions. She would just have to strive to appear cool and in control of the situation, she told herself. Men like Jago Marsh did not normally have to work very hard to secure their sexual pleasures and doubtless once he realised that she did not intend to play ball, he would drop her and pursue someone else.

  The shock of seeing him there in David’s office this morning had made her more vulnerable than she would normally be, but from now on she would be on her guard. He might desire her, but so what? an inner voice asked sardonically. She herself had said that he changed his girl-friends as frequently as he changed his shirts, and no doubt the sophisticated crowd he moved in thought no more of going to bed with someone than they did of shaking hands—possibly even less.

  He was still on her mind later in the day when she left the studio, and she grimaced a little at her own stupidity in allowing him to monopolise so much of her attention as she unlocked the Mini. If Jago Marsh thought she was going to be another easy conquest, he had better think again. She loved David and would continue to do so. But did David love her? There had never been any mention of an engagement or marriage. David had never even held her in the way that Jago had this morning, making her intensely aware of the fact that he was entirely male and doing it quite deliberately. She had never felt the faintest sexual stirring in his arms, but then wasn’t that what she had wanted? So why did she suddenly long for David to sweep her off her feet and make love to her until she was irrevocably committed, and safely beyond the reach of Jago Marsh?

  CHAPTER THREE

  FIVE days Jago had given them, and no five days had ever passed so swiftly. In fact they were so hectic that Storm barely saw David, except to exchange a few brief words of conversation in passing. She had noticed, though, that he seemed very subdued and she was glad she had not burdened him with her own problems. His stoop seemed to have become even more pronounced, but instead of filling her with compassion, his defeatist attitude made her long to tell him to fight back, to show Jago that he was equally capable of running the station.

  As far as the others were concerned David might as well have ceased to exist as Controller. Jago had been accepted with a wholehearted approval that grated on Storm’s raw nerves. She was beginning to feel like the last surviving victim of a catalyst. Everyone apart from herself seemed to have succumbed to Jago’s cool charm, and even David deferred to him quite willingly. Sue and Janet, the two office girls, were already mooning over their new boss’s good looks; Pete mentioned his name with every other breath, and talked unceasingly of his hopes that their connections with Jago might lead to a D.J. spot for him in London, and even the technicians were full of praise for the man whom Storm still thought of as an intruder.

  Never had she been so thankful to see a Friday. Half-way through the morning the Beton tape had jammed, and the result was that Storm was trying to placate a furious Mr Beton with the promise that his ad would get double time in the afternoon.

  She was with the technicians waiting for their verdict on how long it would be before the tape could be run when Ken, the younger of the two, piped up admiringly:

  ‘You should have seen Jago this morning, Storm. We were having problems with the stereo output, and he located the fault in about ten seconds flat. Said it was easy after nearly fifteen years in the business. You’d never get David doing anything like that.’

  Stung into David’s defence, Storm said sarcastically: ‘Perhaps I ought to take this tape to him, then. Did no one ever warn you about worshipping graven images, young Ken?’

  ‘And did no one ever warn you about making snide remarks where they could be overheard?’ Jago drawled from her shoulder.

  He had come in so quietly that Storm had not heard him. She spun round, her body reacting instantly to his presence, alarm feathering along her nerves. She had been working too hard, she told herself as she felt an inner tremor; that was all. Her nerves were on edge from the strain she had been under.

  Jago ignored her, crouching down beside Ken, murmuring a few words of advice while Storm waited for her tape.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Jago drawled, when Ken handed it to her. ‘Spoiled the nice picture you had built up of me, have I? What did you think I was? I was mending tapes like these when you were still in your pram. You complain about the equipment you have here. You should have seen the stuff we had on board the old Cynthia. And by the way,’ he added, his eyes merciless as they scrutinised her pale face, ‘the next time you feel like criticising me, have the guts to do it to my face.’

  He was gone before she could retort, leaving her trembling with nervous reaction and other emotions she found it impossible to name.

  She mustn’t let him get to her like this, she told herself as she took the tape back to the studio. She must never forget that they were engaged upon a war and the moment she let him overpower her she would have lost it.

  She was just about to telephone Mr Beton when Sue came in.

  ‘Jago wants to see you,’ she said breathlessly, her expression envious.

  He had taken over David’s office—just as he had taken over David’s job, Storm thought rebelliously as she knocked on the door and walked in.

  Jago was studying some papers, which he dropped on to the desk, reminding her that he wanted to see her to go over the advertising figures first thing on Tuesday morning. Was he actually giving her time to prepare her case? she asked herself acidly. Munificence indeed!

  ‘Something wrong?’ he asked coolly, leaning back in his chair—David’s chair really, Storm thought angrily. When she didn’t answer an understanding smile quivered across his mouth.

  ‘Ah yes, I see what it is,’ he drawled. ‘Poor Storm, what did you expect? A torrid love scene in the office? Been nerving yourself to fight me off, have you?’

  He was on his feet, standing behind her, so close that Storm could feel his warm breath stirring her hair. Just being in the same room with him seemed to drain her energy and yet fill her with a claustrophobic fear at the same time. He hadn’t made the slightest move to touch her in any way, but she was more intensely aware of his maleness than she would have been had she felt his hard body pressed against her own.

  ‘I never mix business with pleasure,’ Storm heard him say. ‘Don’t worry, though. When I’m ready to make love to you, you’ll know all about it. Have dinner with me tonight?’ he asked unexpectedly. He saw the warning flash in her eyes and laughed. ‘David is going to Oxford—on business,’ he told her softly, ‘so don’t go running to him for help.’

  ’I wouldn’t have dinner with you if… if I were starving!’ she managed disdainfully as she thrust open the door. Surely he must know how much she disliked him? But then of course feeling would never matter to Jago Marsh. She was simply an appetite he wanted
to appease, and once he had done so, she would be tossed on one side—discarded. But she would make sure that would never happen!

  Back in her own cubbyhole of an office she buzzed through to Sue and asked if she knew where David was.

  ‘Gone out,’ came the other girl’s cheerful response. ‘Didn’t he tell you?’

  There hadn’t been time to tell one another very much lately, Storm thought uneasily. She and David normally went out together on Friday evenings and he had said nothing to her about visiting Oxford, although she knew he had friends living there from his university days.

  ‘Doing anything tonight?’

  She hadn’t heard Pete come in, and he perched on the edge of her desk grinning down at her.

  ‘And don’t tell me you’re going out with old David, because I know you’re not. Told me himself that he was going away for the weekend.’

  It seemed that David had told everyone but her, Storm thought a little resentfully. Her phone rang and she moved to pick it up, covering the receiver as Pete coaxed, ‘Come on, we’ll go and have a drink with the crowd. Strictly platonic, I promise.’

  She didn’t feel much like an evening at home, she admitted, acknowledging the growing restlessness she had experienced over the last few days. An evening out would do her good.

  ‘Pick me up at nine,’ she mouthed to Pete, who nodded and gave her a mock salute as he left.

  Later in the afternoon she felt so tired that she half regretted her decision to go out, but it was too late to change her mind. Her father had offered to collect her from work, and he was waiting in the car-park when Storm got outside.

  The fields were a patchwork of varying greens and golds, broken by the odd spot of dark brown where the earth had been turned for a winter crop, cobbled together with the neat grey lines of the dry-stone walls. Storm lay back in her seat and closed her eyes.

  ‘You’re quiet.’ Mr Templeton shot her an amused look. ‘Finding this new boss harder to handle than old David?’

 

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