Tender Triumph

With a teary smile Katie laid her hand against his cheek and jaw, trying to soothe away the tautness with her fingertips. "They've been terrible days for me, too."

His arms closed around her with stunning force, his mouth opening over hers in a kiss that demanded she return the same stormy passion that he was of­fering her. His hands claimed her body, stroking her neck, her back, her breasts, then sweeping down, pulling her tightly to his rigidly aroused manhood. Instinctively, Katie moved her hips against him. Ramon groaned with rampaging desire and plunged his hand into her hair, holding her mouth to his as his tongue began matching her inflaming move­ments.

He tore his mouth from hers and lavished scorch­ing kisses on her face, her eyes, her neck. "You are going to drive me out of my mind, do you know that?" he murmured thickly. But Katie couldn't an­swer. His lips had already recaptured hers and she was drowning in an ocean of pleasure, willingly sinking beneath the waves of rapture that sent her deeper with each touch of his hungry, searching mouth and hands.

Katie slowly began to surface as the pressure of his lips against hers lessened, and then was gone. Feeling deprived and bereft, she laid her cheek against his chest, her heart racing like a trip-hammer and his own thundering in her ear.

His hand cupped her cheek and Katie lifted her gaze to his, melting at the new tenderness she saw in his expression. "Katie, I would have married you if you had married that animal in every church on earth and then divorced him in every court."

Katie hardly recognized the breathy whisper that was her own voice. "I thought the reason you were furious was because I'd let things come so far be­tween us without telling you I had been married be­fore."

He shook his head. "I was furious because I knew you were lying to me about your husband being alive so that you would have an excuse not to marry me; furious because I knew you were terrified of what you felt for me, and yet I could not remain here longer to overcome your fear."

Katie leaned up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his warmly responsive lips, but when his arms tight­ened around her she drew back. Stepping away from the temptation of his nearness, she said, "I think, before I lose my nerve and it gets any later, I had better tell my parents. After tonight there are only three days left for us to try to win them over before we leave."

Katie walked over to the coffee table, picked up the telephone and started to dial her parents' num­ber, then looked up at Ramon. "I was going to tell them we were coming over there, but I think it would be better if I had them come here—" She gave him a nervous, rueful smile. "They can throw you out of their house but they can't very well throw you out of mine."

Waiting for her parents' phone to be answered, she raked her fingers through her rumpled hair, try­ing to think of how to begin. When her mother an­swered Katie's mind went completely blank. "Hi, mom," she said. "It's me."

"Katie, is anything wrong? It's nine-thirty."

"No, nothing's wrong." She paused. "I was hop­ing that, if it's not too late, you and dad might like to come over for drinks."

Her mother laughed. "I suppose we could. We just came back from dinner at the club. We'll be there right away."

Katie, searching madly for some way to keep her mother on the phone while she thought of a way to broach the subject at hand said, "By the way, better bring whatever you want to drink. All I have is Scotch."

"Okay, honey, we will. Want us to bring anything else?"

"Tranquilizers and smelling salts," Katie mum­bled indistinctly.

"What, dear?"

"Nothing mom, there's something I have to tell you, but before I do, I want to ask you something. Do you remember when I was a little girl and you told me that no matter what I did, you and Dad would always love me? You said that no matter how terrible it was, you—"

"Katie," her mother interrupted sharply. "If you are trying to alarm me, you're succeeding very well."

"Not half as well as I'm about to," Katie sighed miserably. "Mom, Ramon is here. I'm going to leave with him on Sunday and marry him in Puerto Rico. We want to talk to you and dad about it to­night."

For a second the line went silent, then her mother said, "And we are going to want to talk to you, Katherine."

Katie hung up and looked at Ramon who lifted his brows in inquiry. "I'm Katherine again." De­spite her attempt at joking, Katie was unhappily aware of how devastated her parents were going to be by what she was doing. She was going to stand by her decision to go to Puerto Rico, no matter what they said, but she loved them very much and she hated the unhappiness she was about to cause them.

She waited at the window with Ramon beside her, his arm comfortingly around her shoulders. She knew from the speed at which a pair of headlights made the sweeping turn into the entrance of her apartment complex that her parents had arrived.

Feeling sad and very apprehensive, Katie started to move toward the door but Ramon's voice stopped her. "Katie, if I could take the burden of what you are about to do from your shoulders and your heart, I would do it. I cannot—but I can promise you that for the next three days you will bear the only unhap­piness I will ever intentionally cause you."

"Thank you," she whispered achingly, putting her hand in his outstretched palm, feeling strength in the reassuring firmness of his fingers gripping hers. "Have I ever told you how much I love the things you say to me?"

"No," he said with a faint grin. "But it is a good place to start."

There was no time for Katie to ponder his meaning because the doorbell was already ringing insistently.

Katie's father, who was famous for his charm and good manners, tore into the apartment like a whirl­wind, accepted Ramon's outstretched hand and said, "Good to see you again, Galverra, enjoyed having you at the house the other day; you've got a goddamned nerve asking Katie to marry you and you're out of your goddamned mind if you think we'll permit it."

Katie's mother, renowned for her ability to main­tain her composure even in times of extreme stress, stormed in right on his heels, holding the neck of a liquor bottle in each hand like a juggler. "We won't stand for this," she announced. "Mr. Galverra, we will have to ask you to leave," the bottle pointing majestically to the door. "And you, Katherine, have lost your mind. Go to your room." The other bottle swept grandly toward the hall.

Katie, watching the unfolding scene with fascinat­ed horror, finally recovered enough to say, "Dad, sit down. Mother, you too." When they both sank into chairs, Katie opened her mouth to speak, re­alized that her mother was holding both liquor bot­tles propped erectly on her knees, and pried them from her fingers. "Here, mom, give me these before you hurt yourself."

Having relieved her mother of both weapons, Katie straightened, tried to think of how to begin, rubbed her palms against her peach-clad thighs, and cast a helpless look of appeal to Ramon.

Ramon put his arm around Katie's slim waist, ig­noring her father's furious scowl at the gesture, and said calmly to him, "Katie has agreed to return to Puerto Rico with me on Sunday, where we will be married. I realize that this is difficult for you to acc

ept, but it will mean a great deal to Katie to know that she has your support in what she is do­ing."

"Well, she sure as hell isn't going to get it!" her father snapped.

"In that case," Ramon said evenly, "you will be forcing her to choose between us, and we will both lose. She will still come with me, but she will hate me for causing a rift between the two of you—and she will hate you also, for not understanding and wish­ing her happiness. It is important to me that Katie be happy."

"It happens to be damned important to us, too," Mr. Connelly grated. "Just exactly what kind of life can you give her, living on some two-bit farm in Puerto Rico?"

Katie saw Ramon pale, and she could have stran­gled her father for trampling on Ramon's pride like this. But when Ramon answered, his voice was com­posed. "She will have only a small cottage in which to live, but the roof does not leak. She will always have food to eat and clothing to wear. And I will give her children. Beyond that, I can promise Katie nothing—except that she will awaken every single day of her life knowing that she is loved."

Katie's mother's eyes filled with tears, the hos­tility was draining from her face as she stared at Ramon. "Oh my God..." she whispered.

Katie's father, however, was just warming up for battle. "So, Katie will be a drudge, a farm wife, is that it?"

"No, she will be my wife."

"And work like the wife of a farmer!" her father said contemptuously.

Ramon's jaw clenched and he turned even paler. "She will have some work to do, yes."

"Are you aware, Mr. Galverra, that Katie has been to a farm only once in her entire life? I happen to recall the event very vividly." His relentless gaze swerved to his startled daughter. "Do you want to tell him about it, Katherine, or shall I?"

"Dad, I was only twelve years old!"

"So were your three friends, Katherine. But they didn't scream when the farmer wrung the chicken's neck. They didn't call him a murderer at his own table and refuse to eat chicken for two years. They didn't find the horses 'smelly'; the process of milk­ing a cow 'gross'; and a multimillion-dollar farm 'a great big stinking place filled with filthy animals.'"