‘Didn’t like it?’ Jago asked with a wry smile. ‘No, he wouldn’t. A shallow water man is our David, which was why I was so surprised to find he had you,’ he added in a voice that only Storm could hear. ‘You’re a deep water girl, Storm. An all or nothing girl.’ His eyes held her captive. ‘Right now you might have opted for nothing, but I intend to change all that. Now,’ he added, addressing them all, ‘any other ideas?’
‘Storm has loads,’ Pete said eagerly. ‘There was that talent spotting competition you thought of, Storm, with the weekly disco, and the job-finder scheme, and the phone-in line for lonely housewives, the “adopt a granny” thing and…’
‘Quite a girl for ideas, aren’t you?’ Jago asked with a sideways look. ‘You’ve been doing your homework well too. These are all ideas used by the top local radio stations. There are others, of course. Wyechester has a large orphanage. How about launching an appeal to raise money for needy children? With Christmas coming up it should have instant appeal.’
‘Great!’ Pete enthused. ‘We could have a special kids’ slot on the Saturday morning show.’
‘And we could use the outside broadcasting unit to ask children what they hope to get from Father Christmas—use their answers to underline the difference between the haves and the have-nots,’ Storm added.
Jago returned to his chair.
‘Now I know that you’ve got the ideas, why haven’t they been put into practice? Well, Storm?’
He had tricked her, she thought despairingly. Her enthusiasm had betrayed her, or rather it had betrayed David, who had always been cautious about new ventures, but wild horses would not drag such an admission from her in front of Jago Marsh.
He was looking directly at her, but she avoided his eyes, staring at the floor. The others weren’t so discreet.
‘David always said there wasn’t enough money for anything but the basic services,’ Pete grumbled.
‘Well, from now on there will be,’ Jago promised, leaving Storm to wonder resentfully where it was coming from. Did he have his own private mint? ‘All the ideas you’ve put forward are excellent in their own way,’ he told them. ‘You left out promoting local sport, and group activities, but what we’re really talking about here is commitment and caring. And these must be our guide lines from now on. For us to be a hundred per cent successful, we need to be a hundred per cent committed to the community—that’s the secret of success. Now I don’t want to overload your digestions. Go away and mull over what we’ve said this morning. We’ll get together later in the week and decide where to start
. Storm…’
She had been closing her file preparatory to leaving, but she lifted her head, watching him warily. If only David had been here to defend himself—but David was somewhere in Oxford. The thought made her heart ache, although she did not know why. Nor did she understand why she should feel as though David had let her down and left her unprotected to face Jago Marsh.
If Jago was aware of the reason for her hesitancy he ignored it, getting up to come and stand next to her.
‘I’ve had a letter from John Harmer,’ he told her unexpectedly. ‘It seems he’s been having second thoughts about that advertising campaign you were trying to sell him. He wants to see you.’
Storm could scarcely believe it. Her eyes lit up, her expression quite unguarded for once as she stared up at Jago.
‘I’ll go and phone him right now,’ she began, but Jago shook his head.
‘No need,’ he told her. ‘It’s all been taken care of. We’re both going out there this afternoon. I just wanted to warn you so that you could prepare yourself. I want to be in on this meeting.’
Didn’t the trust her? Storm fumed later in her own office, while she rifled through the Harmer file. Or did he suspect that she wasn’t up to securing the account? Either way it was scarcely flattering, and it was in a mood of reckless defiance that she prepared for the coming interview.
During the lunch break—which Storm elected to take at her desk so that Jago could not accuse her of neglecting any aspect of Mr Harmer’s business—the phone rang. It was David, apologising for not being in touch with her before. ‘When are you coming back?’ she asked him, but he was evasive, his voice low and hard to hear as though he did not want to be overheard.
‘Don’t you want to hear about the meeting?’ she asked him, puzzled by his restraint.
‘The meeting? Oh, yes. How did it go?’
But Storm had the impression that he was not really interested, and she was just about to ask him if something was wrong when he said that he had to go and hurriedly rang off.
‘Business or pleasure?’ Jago asked, coming into the room as she replaced the receiver.
‘It was David,’ she told him shortly.
‘Then it must have been business,’ he mocked succinctly. ‘I don’t think David knows the first thing about pleasure.’ His fingers lifted to her cheek, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear before she could prevent him, his eyes laughing at her flushed confusion. ‘Neither do you, do you, Storm?’ he asked softly. ‘But I shall soon teach you.’
‘What do you want?’ she asked him coldly, dismayed by feelings his touch had aroused, and further disturbed when his eyebrows rose and he asked sardonically:
‘Do you really need to ask me that? I thought I’d made it perfectly obvious.’ When she refused to retaliate he laughed again. ‘Ah, you’re beginning to learn. I came to see if you were ready to leave.’
‘Leave?’ Storm glanced at her watch. ‘But you said the appointment was for three o’clock.’
‘That’s right,’ he agreed urbanely, ‘but I thought we’d have lunch first. No argument,’ he said, forestalling her, and handed her her coat, making it obvious that he intended to hold it while she put it on. As she slid her arms reluctantly into it, she felt his hand lifting her hair from her neck and the light caress of his fingers against her nape was like an electric current jerking through her.