Page 16

Tender Triumph Page 16

by Judith McNaught


Questions tumbled over in her mind, and she started with the least important first. "Where are we going now?"

"We are going to the village where we will have a quiet meal." Ramon put his arm around her shoul­ders, his fingertips playing with the little turquoise stud in her earlobe. "While we are dining, Rafael will have his married daughter prepare her spare bedroom for you. I had intended for you to stay at the house but it is not habitable. Besides, I had not considered the need for a chaperon for you until Rafael reminded me."

"A chaperon! You can't mean it," Katie sput­tered. "It's—it's—"

"Necessary," Ramon provided for her.

"I was going to say Victorian, archaic and silly."

"True. But in our case it is still necessary."

Katie's delicate brows rose. "Our case?"

"Katie, this village is like a small town where very little happens, so everyone watches what everyone else does, and they gossip about it. I am a bachelor, therefore, an object of interest."

"So I gathered from what Senor Villegas said," Katie retorted primly.

Ramon's lips twitched, but he made no comment. "As my fiancée, you too are an object of interest. What is more important, you are also an American, which makes you a target for criticism. There are many here who believe that American women all have loose morals."

Mutiny was written on Katie's beautiful face. Her high cheekbones were tinted with pink and her blue eyes were sparkling dangerously. Ramon, correctly interpreting the danger signals, swiftly pulled her close and pressed his lips to her temple. "By 'chaperon' I did not mean someone to follow you around, Katie. I only meant that you could not live alone. If you do, the moment I set foot through your door the gossips will say that you let me share your bed, and because you are an American, every­one else will believe it. You may think you do not care, but this is going to be your home. You will not like it if, even years from now, you cannot walk through the village without having people whisper about you."

"I still object to the idea, on principle," Katie said, but without much conviction because Ramon was sensuously exploring her ear.

His muffled laugh sent thrills racing down her spine. "I hoped you were objecting to the idea be­cause you thought a chaperon would make it more difficult for us to... be alone together."

"That, too," Katie admitted with breathless can­dor.

Ramon's chuckle was rich and deep. "I am going to stay with Rafael's family. Gabriella's house, where you will be staying, is only a mile away." Smoothing his hand from her silken cheek back to the coil of her chic chignon, he said huskily. "We will find the time, and the places, to share ourselves with each other."

Katie thought that was a beautiful way to describe making love; two people sharing their bodies with each other so that each could derive pleasure from the other. She smiled, wondering if she would ever understand him. He was such a unique combination of gentleness and strength; of raw, potent virility overlaid with smooth sexual expertise and tender re­straint. No wonder she'd been confused since the day she met him. She'd never known anyone even remotely like him in her entire life!

At the edge of the village square Garcia pulled over and stopped. "I thought you might prefer to walk," Ramon explained, helping Katie to alight. "Garcia will deliver your things to Gabriella's house, then go back to Mayaguez where he lives."

The sun was beginning its descent in a blaze of pink and gold against the blue sky as they strolled across the plaza in the center of which was a stately old Spanish church. "This is where we will be married," Ramon told her. Katie's gaze roamed appre­ciatively over the church and the small buildings that surrounded it on all four sides, creating the village square. The Spanish influence was evident in the arched doorways and windows, and the black wrought-iron trim on the shops that sold everything from fresh bakery goods to small, intricately carved religious figurines. Flowers bloomed everywhere, hanging from balconies and windows, and in huge urns in front of the shops, adding their vibrant splashes of color to the picturesque little square. Tourists with cameras ambled across the plaza, stopping to peer into shop windows or sit at the little sidewalk cafe, sipping cool rum drinks as they watched the villagers.

Katie glanced at Ramon who was walking beside her with his suit jacket hooked on a thumb over his shoulder. Despite his outwardly casual appearance, Katie could almost feel his anxiety as he waited for her first reaction to his village. "It's beautiful," she said honestly. "Very picturesque and charming."

The sideways look he slanted her was dubious. "But tiny, and not what you expected?"

"Prettier and more convenient than what I ex­pected," Katie argued stubbornly. "It even has a general store. And," she added with a teasing glance, "It has two hotels! I'm very impressed."

Her joking succeeded where her sincere compli­ments had not. Grinning, he put his arm around her waist and drew her close against his side for a brief, tight hug. "The Casa Grande," he said, nodding toward a quaint, three-story hotel with wrought-iron balconies, "boasts ten guest rooms. The other has only seven, but it has a small dining room and the food used to be good. We will dine there."

The restaurant had five tables, four of which were occupied with tourists who were laughing and talk­ing. Katie and Ramon were given the remaining table. The waiter lit the candle in the center of the red-and-white-checked tablecloth and took their order. Ramon leaned back in his chair and smiled at Katie who was watching him with puzzled eyes. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"I was wondering where you lived before now, and what you've been doing. You couldn't have been working at your farm, or you wouldn't need to stay with Rafael."

Ramon answered slowly, almost cautiously. "I have lived near Mayaguez in the past, and until now I have been working for a company that is going out of business."

"Is the company in the farming business?" Katie asked.

Ramon hesitated and then he nodded. "Among other things, it is a canning operation. Instead of go­ing to work for another company, I had already de­cided when I met you that I would prefer to work on my own farm rather than pay someone else to do work that I could be doing. During the next two weeks, I will still devote some time to the company; the rest I will spend working with the men who will be repairing our house."

Our house. The phrase made Katie's stomach clench. It sounded so strange. So final. Averting her eyes, she played with her glass, slowly turning it in her fingers.

"What frightens you about that, Katie?" he asked after a pause.

"Nothing. I—I was just wondering what I would be doing while you're gone."

"While I am working you can shop for things we will need for our house. Many items you will be able to buy in the villages. Furniture will have to be pur­chased in San Juan. Gabriella will take you to the shops and act as translator for you where one is needed."

"Furniture?" Katie stared. "Don't you have fur­niture in your place in Mayaguez?"

"I am going to sell it. It would not be appropriate for the cottage, anyway."

Katie, seeing the way his mouth tightened, as­sumed that his furniture would be an embarrass­ment to him, as the cottage had been, and that he didn't feel it was good enough for her. She knew perfectly well Ramon was having her stay with Rafael's daughter because he couldn't afford the ex­pense of putting her in a hotel for three weeks; his explanation about wanting to forestall gossip didn't deceive her in the least. He couldn't afford a hotel, and he certainly couldn't afford a houseful of new furnishings, either. Yet he was going to buy them for her—to please her. Knowing that made her feel acutely uneasy.

What if something happened to convince her she shouldn't marry him after all? How could she possi­bly face him with an announcement like that, after she let him spend so much of his money trying to give her what he thought she wanted? She felt as if she were caught in a trap, a cage into which she had willingly placed herself, but as the doors began swinging closed on her, panic was setting in. Mar­riage in all its awes
ome finality suddenly loomed ahead of her, and Katie knew that somehow she had to feel free to leave if she changed her mind at any time during the next weeks.

"I want to pay for part of the furniture," Katie blurted suddenly.

Ramon waited for the man who was serving their meal to leave before replying. "No," he said suc­cinctly.

"But—"

"I would not have suggested we buy it if I could not pay for it."

He meant that to end the discussion once and for all, but Katie was desperate. "That isn't the point!"

"No?" he asked. "Then exactly what is the point?"

"The point is that you're already spending a great deal of money renovating the cottage, and furniture is very expensive."

"Tomorrow I will give you three thousand dollars to spend on things for the house—"

"Three thousand dollars?" Katie interrupted, as­tonished. "How can you possibly afford to spend so much? Where will you get it?"

There was an imperceptible hesitation before Ra­mon answered. "The company that is going out of business owes me several months' back pay. I will get it from there."

"But—" Katie started to argue.

Ramon's jaw hardened into an uncompromising line. With cool finality he said, "As a man, it is my responsibility to provide a home for you and the fur­nishings for it. You will not pay for anything."

Katie's long lashes flickered down as she carefully concealed her rebellious blue eyes from his penetrat­ing gaze. Ramon, she decided, was about to discover she was a brilliant bargain hunter. His furnishings were going to cost him exactly one-half of what they were worth—because she was going to pay for the other half!

"I meant that, Katie."

His authoritative tone froze her hand in the act of slicing her meat.

"I forbid you to use any of your money either now or after we are married. It is to remain un­touched in your bank in St. Louis."

So determined was she to make her point that Katie forgot to be rankled by his use of the word "forbid." "You don't understand.. .I wouldn't even miss the money. Besides the money I saved from my job, I have a trust fund my father estab­lished for me years ago, and some sort of profit-sharing account from his business. Both of those have huge balances. I wouldn't have to touch the principal, I could just draw out some of the interest and—"

"No," he said implacably. "I am not destitute. Even if I were, I would not accept your money. You have known my feelings on that from the beginning, have you not?"

"Yes," Katie murmured.

He sighed, a harsh sound that was filled with an anger that Katie sensed was directed more at himself than her. "Katie, I have never tried to live on the in­come from the farm alone. I do not know yet how much money will be required to make the necessary improvements to the land so that every acre can become productive again. Once it is fully opera­tional it will support us in reasonable comfort, but until then, whatever money I can spare must go into the land. That farm is the only security I can offer you; its needs must come before luxuries. It is humiliating for me to be explaining this to you now, after I have already brought you here. I thought you understood what sort of life I could offer you before you came."

"I did, and I'm not worried about doing without luxuries."

"Then what are you worried about?"

"Nothing," Katie lied, more determined than ever to use her money to help pay for the furnish­ings. Ramon was carrying the issue of pride too far! His attitude was unreasonable, unrealistic and posi­tively antiquated—particularly if they were going to be married. But since he felt so deeply about the matter of her money, she simply would never tell him what she had done.

His expression gentled. "If you wish, you could put your money into trust for our children. I believe there are tax advantages to doing so."

Children? Katie thought with a quickening of her heart that was part pleasure, part panic. At the rate Ramon was rushing her, she would undoubtedly have a baby within a year. Why did everything have to be happening so quickly? She remembered Rafael’s remark about hearing the banns read in church this morning, and her panic grew. She knew that banns had to be read on three consecutive Sundays before they could be married. By somehow arranging to have them begin today, Ramon had smoothly eliminated one week of the precious time Katie was counting on having before she had to make a final decision. She tried to concentrate on her meal, but she could hardly swallow. “Ramon, how did you manage to have the banns read here this morning, when we didn’t arrive until this afternoon?”

Something in her voice seemed to alert him to her inner turmoil. He shifted his plate aside, no longer bothering to make even a pretense of eating. Watching her with an intent, speculating gaze that was utterly unnerving, he said, “On Friday, while you were at work, I phoned Padre Gregorio and told him that we wished to be married here as soon as possible. He has known me since I was born; he knows there is no obstacle to my being married in the church. I assured him that there was no obstacle for you, either.

“When I had breakfast with your father earlier that morning, he gave me the name of his pastor, who also knows you. I gave that information to Padre Gregorio so that he could assure himself, if he wished to do so. It was as simple as that.”

Katie hastily looked away from his piercing stare, but not in time.

"Something about that displeases you," he con­cluded dispassionately. "What is it?"

After a tense silence, Katie shook her head. "Nothing, really. I'm just a little surprised that it was all handled without my knowing anything about it."

"It was not handled that way intentionally. I as­sumed your father had mentioned it, and he evident­ly assumed that you already knew."

Katie's hand trembled as she pushed her own plate aside. "Won't Padre Gregorio need to meet with me—us, I mean—before he agrees to marry us?" she asked.

"Yes."

Ramon lit a thin cigar, then leaned back in his chair, regarding her attentively.

Katie ran a nervous hand over her red gold hair, smoothing nonexistent strands into place. "Please stop staring at me like that," she whispered implor­ingly.

Turning to glance over his shoulder, Ramon nod­ded briefly at their waiter, signaling for the check. "It is difficult not to look at you, Katie. You are very beautiful. And very frightened."

He said it so coolly, so unemotionally, that it was a long moment before Katie was certain she'd heard him correctly. By then it was too late for her to react; Ramon was already tossing money on the table, standing up, and coming around to assist her out of her chair.

In silence they walked out into a black satin night studded with brilliant stars, and crossed the deserted square. After the warmth of the afternoon sun, the evening breeze was surprisingly chilly as it teased the silken folds of Katie's turquoise dress. She shivered, more from her bewildering emotions than from the cold. Ramon swung his jacket off his shoulder and draped it over her back.

As they passed the lovely old Spanish church, Ramon's words echoed in Katie's mind: "This is where we will be married."

Fourteen days from today, it was possible that she would be walking out of that church as a bride.

Once before she had emerged from a church as a bride... except it had been a huge gothic edifice with limousines lined up on the street blocking Saturday traffic while they waited for the bridal party. David had stood beside her on the steps in the sunlight while the photographers took pictures; he in his splendid tuxedo and she in her magnificent white gown and veil. Then they had dashed through the throngs of cheering well-wishers, laughing as they dodged the showers of rice. David had been so handsome, and she had loved him so much that day. She had loved him so damned much!

Lights twinkled from the windows of the houses they passed as Katie walked beside Ramon down the little country road, her mind suddenly haunted by memories she had thought were buried.

David.

During the six months of their marriage he had kept her in a state of bewildered hu
miliation, and later, fear. Even during their short engagement, Katie had occasionally noticed his speculative glances at other women, but the times were few, and she man­aged her painful jealousy by reminding herself that David was thirty; he would think she was being child­ishly possessive. Besides, he was only looking at them. He would never actually be unfaithful.

They had been married for two months before Katie finally criticized him, and then it was only because she was so hurt and embarrassed that she couldn't stop herself. They had been at a formal dinner-dance for the members of the Missouri Bar Association, where the attractive wife of a prominent Kansas City attorney captured David's interest. The flirtation began over predinner cocktails, gathered force when they sat together at dinner, and burst into full bloom on the dance floor. Shortly thereafter, they vanished for nearly an hour and a half, and Katie was left to endure not only the pity of the people she knew, but the glowering fury of the woman's own husband.

By the time David and she returned to their apart­ment, Katie's insides were churning with resentment. David listened to her tearfully indignant outpouring, his hand clenching and flexing, but it was another four months before Katie discovered what that con­vulsive flexing of his hand presaged.

When she was finished, she expected him to either deny that he had done anything wrong, or else apologize for his behavior. Instead he stood up, passed a look of withering contempt over her, and went to bed.

His retaliation began the next day. Her punish­ment was meted out with the refined cruelty of a man who, on the surface, seemed to be simply toler­ating her unwanted presence in his life, but who was really succeeding in mentally torturing her.