by Anne Hampson
Chapter Ten
It seemed that every single light in the house was on as Paula entered through the front door, which, to her surprise, was slightly ajar. This was a relief to her, as she had fully expected to have to ring for the housekeeper to let her in. Adela with her swift perception would already guess something was wrong, for Paula and Ramon invariably arrived home from the office together.
Paula went upstairs silently and entered the bedroom, her heart throbbing so violently against her ribs that she felt physically sick. To her relief Ramon was neither in the big bedroom nor in the one adjoining.
A shower might revive me a little, she thought, and took one, staying under a long while and then towelling herself dry and making liberal use of the talcum powder. She felt better, more composed, but a shock awaited her when, with the bath-sheet wrapped around her and tucked in beneath her armpits, she came from the bathroom into the bedroom. Ramon was there, and she felt he had been there some time, listening to the shower water, and waiting for her to emerge. Her face drained of colour and it seemed that every nerve in her body was out of control.
'I didn't kn-know you were—were there,' she said trembling. 'I've been—er—having a shower.'
'So I see.' His voice was curt, his eyes lingering on her pale, drawn face.
'I'll g-get dressed.' She turned to the wardrobe, clutching the towel even though it was securely fastened. 'Did you w-want to speak to me about s-something?'
'Where have you been?'
'I walked for a while—in Old San Juan.'
'And then?'
'I—' She stopped, the lump in her throat blocking it. She had been going to tell Ramon the truth, but his manner seemed to warn her not to. He was so quiet, so unemotional. It was most unnatural and she suspected that a terrible fury simmered beneath this smooth unfathomable veneer. 'I just kept on walking.' She opened the wardrobe door and took out an evening dress of crisp, lime green net and lace. 'Can I get to those drawers?' He moved aside and she took out dainty underwear to match the dress.
'You kept on walking, did you?' Soft the voice now, but Paula's heart gave a painful jerk as she detected the gutteral note deep within it. Will he murder me? she thought, taking the underwear and dress towards the bathroom door. 'Where did you walk to in all that time?'
'Oh—' She gave a careless shrug of her shoulders. 'All over the place—'
'Don't lie!' With the smooth gliding leap of a jungle animal he had covered the distance between them and was towering above her, a scowling menacing figure, his face like thunder. 'You were with a man, in a car. Who was he?'
She stepped back, a move that incensed him for his nostrils flared. Never had she thought to be so intimidated by a man, by a husband to whom she had been married a mere fortnight.
'It was Denis,' she managed, but unsteadily. 'I happened to run into him in Old San Juan. He had hired a car and—and we drove to—to the forest.' She stopped, pressing a hand to her heart because its wild pounding frightened her. She was sure Ramon could hear it—but perhaps not, for his breathing was heavy, escaping with a hissing sound through teeth that were clenched and visible, for his lips were drawn back in the manner of a snarling beast ready to attack.
Why hadn't she seized the opportunity offered by Denis? She would have been safely away now from this dark foreigner who seemed to revel in frightening her, in reducing her bones to jelly.
'He made love to you up there, in the forest?' Again the voice was soft, dangerously so, and the dark eyes bored into her, as if they would look into her very soul.
His words changed everything. She sent him a glance of burning hatred, lifted her chin and said in a voice vibrating with fury, 'You're detestable! How dare you stand there and accuse me of that! My God,' she added contemptuously, 'who are you to accuse anyone of misconduct of that kind—profligate that you are! Get out of my way—I'm packing my things and leaving you, tonight!' In her fury she thrust her hands against his chest hoping to take him by surprise and send him off balance, and it seemed at first that she had succeeded, but he regained his balance and with a savage exclamation gripped her hand in an iron-hard fist and brought her against the hard wall of his chest. She struggled, forgetful of the fact that her only covering was the towel.
'Stop struggling!' he commanded, shaking her. 'I saw you kissing him in the car, and then again outside, so all this indignation's lost on me!'
'You were there, spying on us in the car—and then again when we got out?' So it hadn't been imagination when she had thought there was someone near.
'I've been out looking for you—searching everywhere—'
'If you saw us,' she broke in curiously, 'then why didn't you show yourself?'
The dark Spanish eyes became pools of molten lava.
'I couldn't trust myself. I'd have killed him and almost strangled you! You got out of the car and that saved us all!'
God, what violence was he capable of? Looking up into a face lined with evil she could well believe that he meant what he said. And yet it seemed incredible, the suave, aristocratic Spanish gentleman whom she had first met, and been awed by, turning to violence. It was out of all proportion, she suddenly realised. He did not love her, so why the fierce resentment when she had let her old friend kiss her, the friend she had been keeping company with before she left England?
'I wish I could understand you,' she faltered. 'Why should you have bothered to come looking for me anyway? You must have known I'd come back, since all my clothes and money are here.'
He merely stared, a muscle pulsating in his neck, his dark eyes still on fire. His mouth came closer; she braced herself for the pain she expected him to inflict even while she began to struggle. Her chin was gripped in a steel vice, her lips crushed by the savage possession of his. They moved presently, to explore the sensitive nerves of her throat and the lobe of her ear. 'You're mine!' he snarled, 'get that, and keep it in mind because you'll forget it at your cost!' In his fury he lapsed into Spanish as he added, 'If I did what was right, I'd punish you as you deserve for allowing another man to kiss you!' Instead, he crushed her to his chest, his lean brown fingers sliding down inside the towel which was already coming loose. Fire licked her flesh and ripped through her veins, driving the blood to her heart. His tongue probed her mouth, setting every nerve in her body vibrating as its roughness explored, creating turbulence that she admitted was desire. She clung to him, breathing heavily, forgetting everything but the urgency of her need of him. But without a warning he released her and stood away; she gripped the towel as it began to fall and brought it up over her chest. 'You were about to get dressed,' Ramon said, and now he was almost in full control both of his anger and his passion. 'I'll leave you, then.' Without another word he strode to the door and passed through it. Paula, the towel still clutched in her fingers, stared disbelievingly, her mind in turmoil. Why had he left her, without inflicting much punishment at all? She had prepared herself for some sort of retaliation for what she had done. In fact, there was that moment when she had believed she must pack up and leave here tonight. She had visualised taking a taxi to the ship and asking for Denis, then enlisting his help in getting a cabin. Instead, she was able to stay here; she felt safe… but frustrated as well, left like this, ignored after the deliberate temptations of her husband had destroyed all her resistance.
Her eyes fell to the garments she had placed ready to put on; she got into them and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were dull, but otherwise she was satisfied with her appearance. It seemed a miracle that what she had been through had left no marks.
Ramon, immaculate in a beige linen suit and white frilled shirt, was in the main saloon when she entered. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before he lowered his. Paula gasped. He was actually ashamed! It didn't seem possible, but she was sure she had not been mistaken.
He got her a drink, gave it to her and then, after a long and undecided pause he said, 'I thought you said you were leaving.'
She stared, wonderi
ng at the cold indifference of his manner.
'Do you want me to go?' she asked. He did not immediately answer and she added, 'It didn't seem just now as if you wanted me to go.'
'I've been thinking since then, and in view of my reason for marrying you, I feel you have the right to make a choice. If you want to leave, then I won't stop you.' He was watching her closely and she turned her face away, aware that the colour was slowly receding from her cheeks. So he didn't care if she left him. Perhaps he was thinking of Rosa, whom he loved, and decided it was illogical to harbour hatred alongside his love for her. He could be happy if he married her, and so he was offering Paula her freedom. Her first impulse was to say she would leave at once, but two things prevented her making a decision. Firstly, she was by no means sure that, were she to arrive at Denis's ship with her luggage, she would be able to get aboard. Every cabin might be booked, or it could be that new passengers were not being taken aboard in Puerto Rico. And secondly, she knew a fierce resentment at her husband's decision to let her go; it was for his own ends, to make the way clear for a resumption of his relationship with the girl to whom he was once engaged. She, Paula, was his wife and she had certain rights. She would assert them! She would stand between Ramon and his ex-fiancée for just as long as it was possible!
Several days went by, with the strained atmosphere between Paula and her husband increasing all the time. Ramon slept in his own room; he dined with Paula, but rarely spoke to her. He still had her go to the office, but often used the young clerk rather than have Paula go into his private office. Time began to drag; Paula had never been so bored in her life and she began to wonder how much longer she would be able to tolerate the loneliness. Her love for Ramon was as strong as ever, his magnetism still effective, even though he never so much as kissed her. His goodnights were short and brusque, as were his morning greetings at the breakfast table. She suspected it was a wearing down process calculated to drive her to make the decision to leave him. She found her temper rising whenever he ignored her altogether, and she began to snap at him when he did speak to her. One evening after dinner he spoke seriously to her, saying that this situation could not continue much longer.
'It's uncomfortable for us both,' he added broodingly. 'Why don't you go? I've said I won't do anything to stop you.'
Paula's eyes blazed.
'I shall stay as long as I like,' she flashed. 'This is my home and I don't intend to leave it until it suits me!'
'What good is it doing for you to stay?'
'If my presence here annoys and inconveniences you, then staying does me a whole world of good!'
'Revenge, eh?' His voice was low and bitter.
'You enjoyed it, so why shouldn't I?'
'Two wrongs never add up to a right, Paula.'
She flashed him a curious glance.
'You sound as if you regret what you did to me,' she said, scanning his features closely, looking for any sign of contrition or remorse. But his face was the set mask she had become used to of late and she read nothing from it.
'Are you going to leave?' he asked, ignoring her comments. 'I'll make you an allowance—a large one—'
'Keep your money,' she broke in contemptuously. 'Spend it on the long string of mistresses who'll be passing through your life for the next twenty or thirty years!'
His dark brows lifted a fraction. Paula suspected he was both angry and surprised that she could speak like that. However, he bypassed this just as he had bypassed her earlier comments.
'I think you'll agree, Paula, that we should seriously discuss separation, and a settlement for you. This life is not only unbearable but degrading. It's false and it's boring, for us both.' He looked at her with a directness meant to add force to his words and it did. Mentally she agreed with all he had said, and she accepted that the life they were leading could not continue indefinitely. Yet she was still reluctant to leave, to walk out and make it easy for Ramon to pick up where he left off before they met and married. She had told Denis that she was sure he would never marry Rosa, but now she was by no means sure. Jealousy flared within her, searing her mind, tearing at her heartstrings.
'I shall not leave,' she declared, her chin high, her eyes wide and bright with determination. 'You married me and you will have to put up with me! I'm here to stay, Ramon! You're not casting me off as if I was one of your women of the moment!'
'How long do you suppose you can live this kind of life?' he queried. They were in the saloon and he had a glass in his hand. His eyes left his wife's face to focus on the liquid in the glass; he seemed to become absorbed in the sparks of light reflecting through it and on to his fingers. Paula, leaning back in her chair, watched him in silence for a while, wishing she could read his thoughts, wishing she could understand the workings of his mind. He glanced at her inquiringly and she answered his question.
'I do admit that it can't go on forever, but I mean it to continue for a long while yet. I'm not usually a vindictive person, but I intend to make you pay for what you did to me. I shall be around to annoy you by my presence, Ramon, so you might as well become resigned.'
'It's obvious that you are not in love with Denis?'
'You know very well that I'm not.' Surely he knew she was still in love with him, she thought, puzzled by his words. Or had he assumed that her love was dead, killed by the knife-sharp pangs of disillusionment? Yes, she realised all at once, he did believe that her love was dead. Well, that at least made her feel much better, for nothing had been more humiliating in all this than the constant awareness that her husband knew she loved him. 'I could be one day, though,' she was urged to say. 'He and I are keeping in touch, and if ever I do decide to leave you and have a divorce, then he and I will marry.'
Ramon was frowning heavily, and looked at her in disbelief.
'You're not in love and yet you'd marry him?' His expression changed to one of suspicion. 'You're lying, Paula. A situation like the one you're describing could not possibly exist.' He paused a moment, the glass to his lips, his dark gaze meeting hers from above the rim. He seemed to be hesitant, going over words mentally to see if they were what he wanted to say. She saw his expression change to one of resolution before he said, 'If you choose to stay, then you must resign yourself to my living my own life— the life I lived before I married you.' Turning abruptly, he went over to the cabinet and poured himself another drink. Paula put a hand to her heart, because the pain was excruciating, the wild throbbing frightened her. He meant to live the profligate life, going out with women, staying out all night—perhaps bringing them home and sleeping with them here…
She said, a tremor in her voice which she hoped he would not notice, 'You mean—you'll have—have women coming here?'
'It's possible,' he replied indifferently.
'You'd humiliate me in that way?' There was a distinct break in her voice now which she could not possibly disguise.
'If you choose to stay then it will be your own fault if you're humiliated,' he said over his shoulder. 'Think about it carefully, Paula, before you take this adamant stand which you've admitted stems from the desire for revenge and nothing else. It will be better all around if you leave me now.'
She stared dumbly at his broad back, the pain of her heart reflected in her face, in the sudden prominence of cheekbones robbed of colour and over which the transparent skin seemed to have become more tightly stretched.
'If I stay, you will come and go as you please… ?' Her voice trailed away to silence as she wondered why she was speaking like this when she had been told what Ramon intended to do.
'Of course. My life is my own.' He was tilting a bottle of brandy, pouring the amber liquid into his glass. Paula, watching him, found herself being surprised when he did not fill the glass. He seemed in the mood to take more than was good for him. But he was moderate in his drinking habits, she had noticed, and had only taken more than usual if he had been in one of his brooding, distant moods.
'Supposing I do the same?' The suggestion cam
e unbidden; she had no intention of doing the same.
He seemed to stiffen in every muscle, and the hand holding the glass tightened so that Paula expected to see the fragile crystal break and fall to the floor, spilling the brandy on to the carpet.
'I would not permit that,' he said tautly.
'Oh, and why? If you are unfaithful to me, then I have every right to do the same to you.'
He turned and she flinched at the harshness of his face.
'So we get back to what our parents did.'
'It was your suggestion. Fortunately there are no children to suffer as a result of our actions.' How calm she sounded! It was a miracle, considering the way her heart was beating overrate, her nerves pulsing, out of control.
'I have said I will not permit you to have other men,' he told her inexorably, his dark eyes fixing hers in a warning look. 'Flout my wishes and I shall punish you.'
High colour leapt to her cheeks as anger flared.
'I shall do exactly as you do!' she threatened, her small fists clenched on her lap. 'If you have other women, then I shall have other men—' She broke off, trembling as he came purposefully towards her. 'Touch me and I'll scream for Adela!' she warned, white to the lips. 'You've used violence on me for the last time,' she managed, but in a voice that quivered, lacking conviction.
He stopped, eyes glinting, tiny threads of crimson creeping along the sides of his mouth, the evidence of fury held in check.
'I can force you to leave me,' he assured her after a long, intense silence. 'In England the law might allow a wife to stay in her husband's house, but here our laws are different. As long as I compensate you adequately, I can turn you out of my home.'
She stared at him with growing suspicion. His face was impassive and even as she fixed his eyes he turned from her, to take up the brandy glass he had placed on a table.