Tender Triumph

by Judith McNaught

  "I sincerely hope so," he said with a warm smile at her sparkling face. "As Ramon rather bluntly informed me, he has no desire to marry a cocker spaniel."

  Katie's smile faded. "He has no desire to marry me, either, right now."

  "Do you want me to come with you when you speak to him?"

  Katie shook her head after a moment's thought. "When I came into the church, that was what I was going to ask you to do. I was terrified of his anger yesterday, and he actually threatened to make David seem like a saint."

  "Did Ramon raise his hand to you?"

  "No."

  Padre Gregorio's lips twitched. "If he did not strike you with the provocation he had yesterday, I am certain he never will.''

  "I suppose I always knew that," Katie admitted. "It was probably just thinking about David that made me so afraid of Ramon yesterday and today."

  Clasping his hands behind his back, Padre Gregorio beamed his general approval upon the moun­tains, the sky, the village and the villagers. "Life can be so good if you let it, Katherine. But you must trade with life. You give something and you get something, then you give something of yourself again and you receive something again. Life goes bad when people try to take from it without giving. Then they came away empty-handed, and they grab harder and more often, growing more disappointed and disillusioned each time." He grinned at her. "Since you are not afraid of Ramon doing physical violence to you, I assume you do not need me?"

  "Actually I do," Katie said with a wry look at Garcia who was standing sentry beside the Rolls, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes following her every move. "I think Ramon instructed Garcia to get me off this island, and if I've missed my plane that man will put me in a boat, a box or a bottle, but he'll do what Ramon told him to do. Do you think you could convince him to take me back to Gabriella's, and also tell him I want to surprise Ramon, so he shouldn't mention that I didn't leave?"

  "I think I can handle that," he said, putting his hand under her elbow and walking with her toward the car. "A 'self-important, self-righteous' man such as myself ought to be able to intimidate one chauffeur."

  "I'm terribly sorry about the things I said," Katie said contritely.

  Padre Gregorio's blue eyes laughed at her. "One has a tendency to acquire those rather unattractive traits after wearing these robes for forty years. I confess that since you said that to me, I have done some serious soul-searching trying to discover if you were right."

  "Is that what you were doing when I interrupted you in church a while ago?"

  His face shadowed. "It was a moment of deepest sorrow, Katherine. I had seen you passing by the church in Ramon's car, and I knew you were leav­ing. I had hoped and prayed that before it came to that you would realize what was in your heart. Despite everything you said and did, I felt that you loved him. Now, shall I see if I can convince the loyal Garcia that it is in Ramon's best interest for him to disobey Ramon's instructions?"

  When the Rolls pulled into Gabriella's yard, Katie debated about having Garcia take her up to the cot­tage instead. The problem was that Ramon might not come back to the cottage for days, and Katie had no idea how to find him. Gabriella would help her, so long as Eduardo could be kept from finding out.

  She lifted her hand to knock on the door, but it was flung open. Instead of Gabriella, Eduardo was standing there, his face uncompromising and for­bidding. "You are not leaving?"

  "No, I—" Katie began pleadingly, but the rest of her sentence was cut off by Eduardo's crushing bear hug.

  "Gabriella said I was wrong about you," he whispered gruffly. With an arm thrown around her shoulders, he drew her into the living room to face Gabriella's shining countenance. "She told me you had courage." He sobered abruptly. "You are going to need a great deal of it to face Ramon. He will be twice as angry at being twice defied."

  "Where do you think he'll go tonight?" Katie asked bravely.

  Ramon sat with one hip perched on his desk, his weight braced on the opposite foot. His expression betrayed no emotion as he listened to Miguel and the four auditors who were seated on the luxuriously upholstered sofa at the far end of his office, discuss­ing the bankruptcy papers that they were preparing to file.

  Ramon's gaze was turned toward the windows of his high-rise San Juan office as he watched a jet climbing in a wide arc into the blue afternoon sky. Based on the time, he knew it was Katie's plane. His eyes followed it, clinging to it as it diminished to a silver speck on the horizon.

  "As far as you personally are concerned, Ramon," Miguel spoke up, "there is no need to file bankruptcy. You have enough to cover your out­standing debts. The banks that loaned you the money, which you in turn loaned to the corporation, will foreclose on the island, houses, plane, yacht, art collection, etc., and recover their money by selling them to others. The only other personal debts you have are for the two office buildings you were con­structing in Chicago and St. Louis."

  Miguel reached across the large coffee table in front of him and picked up a sheet of paper from one of the stacks. "The banks that loaned you part of the construction money are preparing to sell the buildings to other investors. Naturally, those in­vestors will make the profit when they finish the buildings and sell them. Unfortunately, they will also be able to keep most of the twenty million dollars of your own money that you put into each building." He glanced apologetically at Ramon. "You probably knew this already?"

  Ramon nodded impassively.

  Behind him, the buzzer on his desk sounded and Elise's agitated voice burst over the intercom. "Mr. Sidney Green is calling from St. Louis again. He is very insistent about speaking with you, Senor Galverra. He is swearing at me," she added tersely. "And shouting."

  "Tell him that I said to call me another time when he feels more composed, and then disconnect the call," Ramon said curtly.

  Miguel smiled. "No doubt he is somewhat dis­tressed about the rumors his competition is now spreading that his paint is defective. It is all over the Wall Street Journal and the business sections of the American papers."

  One of the auditors glanced at Miguel with wry amusement for his naivete". "I imagine he's a hell of a lot more upset about his stock. Green Paint and Chemical was selling for twenty-five dollars a share two weeks ago; it was down to thirteen dollars this morning. There seems to be something of a panic."

  Miguel leaned back into the sofa and folded his arms complacently. "I wonder what could be wrong?" He straightened immediately at Ramon's sharp frown, however.

  "Are you talking about Sidney Green from St. Louis?" The thin, bespectacled auditor on the right end of the sofa looked up for the first time from his ledger sheets. "That's the name of the man who heads the group who is planning to take over the office building you were constructing in St. Louis, Ramon. They've already made the bank an offer to buy it and finish it."

  "That vulture!" Miguel hissed, and launched into a string of savage expletives.

  Ramon didn't hear him. All of the roiling pain and fury he felt over losing Katie was exploding in­side of him in a volcanic surge of pure rage that now had a target he could strike: Sidney Green. "He is also on the board of directors of that same bank, and it refused to extend my construction loan so that I could finish the building," he said in a low, threatening voice.

  Behind him the buzzer went off on his desk. Ramon answered it automatically while the auditors gathered up their papers, preparing to leave. "Senor Galverra," Elise said. "Mr. Green is on the line. He says he feels more composed now."

  "Put him on," Ramon said softly.

  Green's voice exploded over the speaker system. "Bastard!" he screamed. Ramon nodded a curt dis­missal to the auditors, and flicked a look at Miguel that invited him to say. "You dirty bastard, are you there?" Green shouted.

  Ramon's voice was quiet, controlled and very dangerous. "Now that we have exhausted the topic of my legitimacy, shall we get down to business?''

  "I don't have any business with you, you—"

  "Sid," Ramon s
aid in a silky voice, "You are an­noying me, and I become very unreasonable when I am annoyed. You owe me twelve million dollars."

  "I owe you three million," he thundered.

  "With interest it is now over twelve million. You have been drawing interest on my money for nine years; I want it back."

  "Go to hell.'"he hissed.

  "I am in hell," Ramon replied with no expression in his voice. "And I want you with me. Beginning today, it is going to cost you one million dollars for each day the money remains unpaid."

  "You can't do that, you don't have that much in­fluence, you arrogant son of a—"

  "Just watch me," Ramon bit out, then he broke the connection.

  Miguel leaned forward eagerly, "Do you have that much influence, Ramon?"

  "No."

  "But if he believes you do—"

  "If he believes it, he is a fool. If he is a fool, he will not want to risk 'losing' another million today, and he will call back within three hours so that he can get the money into my bank in St. Louis before it closes tonight."

  Three hours and fifteen minutes later, Miguel was slumped morosely in his chair, his tie loose, his jacket open. Ramon glanced up from the papers he was signing and said, "I know you did not stop to have lunch. Now it is dinnertime. Call downstairs and order some food to be sent up from the restau­rant. If we are going to work late, you should have something to eat."

  Miguel paused with his hand on the phone. "Don't you want anything, Ramon?"

  The question brought an image of Katie, and Ramon closed his eyes against the wrenching pain. "No."

  Miguel called down to the restaurant and ordered sandwiches. When he hung up the phone, it rang again.

  "Elise has gone home for the day," Ramon said, answering it himself. For a moment he was very still, then he reached out and pressed the speaker button.

  Sidney Green's strangled voice filled the elegant office. ".. .need to know which bank."

  "No bank," Ramon said curtly. "Deliver it to my St. Louis attorneys." He gave the name and address of the firm, then added, "Have them call me at this number when the check is in their hands."

  Thirty minutes later, Ramon's attorney called. When Ramon replaced the phone he looked at Miguel whose eyes were feverish with excitement. "How can you just sit there like that, Ramon? You've just made twelve million dollars."

  Ramon's smile was ironic. "Actually, I have just made forty million. I will use the twelve million to buy stock in Green Paint and Chemical. Within two weeks I will be able to sell it for twenty million. I will take that twenty million and use it to finish the building in St. Louis. When I sell the building in six months, I will get back the twenty million I origi­nally invested, plus this twenty million."

  "Plus whatever profit you make on the building.''

  "Plus that," Ramon agreed flatly.

  Miguel was eagerly pulling on his suit coat. "Let's go out and celebrate," he said, straightening his tie.

  "We'll call it a combination bachelor and success party."

  Ramon's eyes turned enigmatic. "There is no need for a 'bachelor' party. I forgot to mention that I am not getting married on Sunday. Katie... changed her mind." Ramon pulled open the large file drawer on his right, carefully avoiding the astonished regret he knew he would see on his friend's face. "Go out and celebrate my 'success' for both of us. I want to look over the file on that building."

  A short time later, Ramon glanced up to see a boy standing in front of his desk, holding two white paper sacks. "Someone phoned downstairs and ordered sandwiches, sir," he said, looking around in awe at the palatial office.

  "Just leave them there," Ramon nodded toward the coffee table across the room and absently reach­ed into the inside pocket of his suit coat. He took out his wallet and rifled through it looking for some one-dollar bills to give the boy as a tip.

  The smallest he had was a five-dollar bill—Katie's five-dollar bill. He had never intended to part with it, and had folded it in half, then half again, to distinguish it from other money he would ever carry; a memento he'd treasured from a red-haired angel with laughing blue eyes.

  Ramon felt as if he was shattering into a thousand pieces as he slowly pulled Katie's money out of his wallet. His fingers tightened convulsively around it, and then he forced himself to let it go. Just as he had forced himself to let Katie go. He opened his hand and gave the crumpled bill to the eager boy.

  When the boy left, Ramon looked down at his wallet. Katie's money was gone. Katie was gone. He was an extremely wealthy man again. Bitter rage boiled up inside of him, and his hand clenched into a fist with the savage urge to smash something.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Eduardo ran his hand through his rumpled dark hair and glanced at Katie whose pale face was reflec­ting her mounting tension. "The security guard said he left the building three hours ago, at nine o'clock. Garcia picked him up in the Rolls, but neither Gar­cia nor Ramon returned to the villa in Mayaguez, nor is Ramon at his house in Old San Juan."

  Katie bit her lip apprehensively. "Do you think Garcia might have told Ramon that I didn't leave, and Ramon is just refusing to answer the phone?"

  Eduardo's look was filled with derisive scorn. "If Ramon knew you were still here, he would not be hiding from you—he would have descended on this house like forty devils, believe me."

  "Eduardo," Gabriella said with an exasperated sigh, "you are petrifying Katie, and she is nervous enough without that."

  Jamming his hands into his back pockets, Eduar­do stopped pacing and stood looking down at Katie. "Katie, I do not know where he could be. He is not at either of his houses, nor is he staying with Rafael's family. I cannot think where else he would choose to spend the night."

  Katie tried to ignore the painful stab of jealousy she felt at the possibility that Ramon might well have decided to spend the night in the arms of the beautiful woman he was often pictured with in the local magazine clippings. "I was so certain he would go to the cottage," she said. "You're positive he wasn't there?"

  Eduardo was emphatic. "I told you, I went there. It was only ten-thirty, too early for him to go to sleep, but there were no lights on inside."

  Katie bent her head abjectly, twisting her fingers in her lap. "If things had been reversed, I would have gone there—where I could feel closest to him."

  "Katie," Gabriella said with sympathetic deter­mination. "I know where you are thinking he is, but you are wrong. He would not turn to another woman tonight."

  Katie was too preoccupied to see the dubious look Eduardo tossed at his wife. "You knocked when you went to the cottage, didn't you?" Katie said.

  Eduardo's head swung to her. "Why should I knock on the door of a dark, empty house? Besides, Ramon would have seen the car lights coming up the driveway. He would have come out to see who was there."

  Katie's smooth brow furrowed. "I think you should have knocked." She stood up more out of restlessness than anything else, and then said, "I think I'll go up to the cottage."

  "Katie, he is not there, but if you insist on going, I will go with you."

  "I'll be fine," Katie reassured.

  "I do not want you to confront Ramon alone," Eduardo persisted. "I saw how furious he was yesterday, I was with him, and—"

  "I was with him, too," Katie reminded him gent­ly. "And I'm positive I'll be fine. He can't be much angrier than he was yesterday.''

  Eduardo dug in his pocket and pulled out the car keys, handing them to her. "If I believed for a minute he is there now, I would come with you, but he is not. You are going to have to wait until tomor­row to talk to him."

  "My parents are arriving tomorrow," Katie said desperately. She looked at the clock ticking ominously on the wall. "It's after midnight—tech­nically this is Saturday morning. I'm getting married on Sunday—that's tomorrow."

  Remembering what Eduardo had said about Ra­mon seeing the car lights coming up the driveway, Katie drove the last hundred yards without them. If Ramon was there, she thought it
would be best to have the element of surprise on her side. Particularly because she didn't relish the idea of confronting a furious Ramon on the doorstep.

  Up ahead a faint light was visible through the swaying branches of the trees and Katie's heart gave a wild leap of joy as she stopped the car. She walked up the moonlit brick path, her knees shaking harder with each step. The bedroom lamp was on!

  She reached for the door handle, mumbling a dis­jointed prayer that it wouldn't be locked because she had no key, and breathed a sigh of relief when it opened easily. She closed it cautiously, then turned around. The living room was in shadow, but there was the mellow glow of lamplight streaming into it through the open doorway from the bedroom.

  This was it. She pulled the sweater off her shoul­ders and dropped it on the floor. She ran shaky hands over the clingy cinnamon dress she had de­liberately chosen hours ago with the specific inten­tion of tantalizing Ramon and hopefully weakening his resistance. It scooped very low in the front, ex­posing a glimpse of deep cleavage, had narrow shoulder straps, no sleeves and virtually no back. She combed her fingers through her long hair, then started walking very quietly.

  In the bedroom doorway, Katie stopped to steady her rioting nerves—Ramon was lying on the bed, his hands clasped behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His white shirt was unbuttoned nearly to his waist, and he hadn't bothered to take off his shoes. His profile was so bitter and desolate that Katie's chest filled with remorse. She gazed at the dark, austere beauty of his face, the power and virility stamped in every line of his long body, and her pulse raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Even lying down, Ramon seemed like a very formidable oppo­nent.

  She took one step into the room, throwing a shadow on the ceiling across his line of vision.

  Ramon's head twisted toward her, and Katie froze.

  He stared at her, his stark black eyes piercing through her as though he wasn't really seeing her at all.

  "I didn't leave," Katie whispered inanely. At the sound of her voice, Ramon shot up and off the bed in one lithe, terrifying lunge.