When Tomorrow Comes Page 7

  The silence became almost tangible as she looked from Louie to Dominic and back again. Getting to her feet, she began to pace, unable to sit still any longer. Campos was a trusted site supervisor…but only he could get away with so much pilferage.

  Finally Louie broke the silence.

  “Hank Parker was no dummy, darlin’. He had to be very sick most of the time not to notice that Campos was gradually weaning control away from him. Look at this. Eighty-five percent of the invoices are signed by Campos, starting about a year ago. Materials invoices should have been signed by Hank. We’ve dug far enough back in the records to show the gradual takeover by Campos.”

  Louie brought forward another handful of reports and placed them in front of her. “Campos hated Dom, here, because he reported, in writing, all the problems. As you can see, none of these reports has been initialed by Hank, so he never saw them and couldn’t act on the problem. Campos very conveniently kept them in the bottom drawer of his desk, under lock and key.” Louie allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. “I’m still a fairly decent lock-picker when I want to be, darlin’.”

  She sat down, stunned. She had handled time or flow problems, but never a managerial cover-up. “What we need,” she muttered, “is that second set of records. I can’t go into that meeting with a few scraps of evidence, Louie. I’ll get laughed out of there, and you know it.”

  He nodded sagely. “We’ve already discussed that, Rose. Now, calm down. You look as white as a sheet. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Cait rubbed her face tiredly. “I’m fine.”

  “As I was saying, Dom and I have a solution to your problem.”

  “To call in Cirre?” she asked.

  “He and Campos left late last night for BA. Dom thinks we’ll find that book in Cirre’s city apartment. I already went through the storekeeper’s desk, and anything else that was locked, and didn’t find a thing. He’s slick.”

  “I can’t just walk up to Cirre and demand the book,” Cait said.

  “You won’t have to,” Dominic interrupted. “The three of us will fly into BA today and pay him a visit.”

  A shiver of fear rippled up her spine. His voice was laced with hatred. She had never seen Dominic look as threatening as he did now. Not even at the print shack had she seen that awful light of anger in his dark eyes. “And if he doesn’t talk?”

  “He will,” Dominic promised.

  Chapter Seven

  Cait had forgotten what hot water, steam and loads of creamy soap could do to her body. Finally, in the luxury of the company-rented apartment in Buenos Aires, she was able to wash away the Patagonian dust. Tiredness began to seep into her as she turned slowly under the pummeling streams that kneaded her tense muscles. She finally emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a thick terry cloth robe, with a towel wrapped around her head. Unable to resist the tempting queen-size bed, she stretched out on the vibrant copper spread. Her eyes closed almost as soon as her head sank into the pillow.

  Cait awoke with a start, sat up and stared around the dusky room. Silence greeted her except for the faint honk of a horn on some distant avenida. The towel about her head had loosened, and someone had covered her with a blanket. Her hair spilled across her shoulders as she lurched to her feet and padded into the quiet living room. She spotted a note on the coffee table and sat down on the sofa to read it aloud. “Darlin’, you

  looked too beautiful to wake up. Dom and I went to find Cirre. We’ll be back when we find what we’re looking for. Love, Louie.” Letting the note drop to the sofa, she whispered, “

  “Damn him”.” Gazing forlornly about the room, she realized that this was one of the few times she had slept without dreaming at all. She felt almost human now. Glancing at her watch, she calculated that she had slept five or six hours.

  Cait stepped out on the black, wrought-iron balcony, where lingering twilight gilded the horizon in a wash of soft peach. Buenos Aires was a city of lights. Along Avenida Alvear, winking, blinking floodlights illuminated beautifully sculpted buildings standing like miniature palaces from the days of Louis XV. Inhaling deeply, Cait detected a faint scent of oranges in the air. A slight breeze caressed her face and a sad smile pulled at her lips. BA was romantic, a subtle lover weaving his spell. A new excitement threaded through her. She was anxious to explore the vast cosmopolitan city.

  A knock on the door startled Cait, and she drew in a sharp breath. Her heart leaped as she rose to open it. It was Dominic.

  “Where’s Louie?” she asked, her voice husky.

  “Over at the Claridge House,” he answered, quickly perusing her with his dark eyes. He held out a thick maroon book.

  Their eyes met and she shivered, sensing the tightly coiled anger in him ready to explode. Biting her lip, she opened the book and studied the figures, then followed him into the living room.

  “It must have been bad,” she ventured, sitting down.

  He poured a shot of whiskey into a crystal glass. Cait colored, realizing her silk bathrobe clung to the rounded curves of her body. “Somewhat,” he drawled, making himself comfortable opposite her on the sofa.

  “Is Louie all right?” she asked, her eyes mirroring the sudden uncertainty she was feeling.

  Dominic’s stony features softened. “He’s tired right now. It took a long time to track Cirre down, and Louie was pretty beat by the time we finished.” He managed a sour smile and took closer note of Cait. “I’m glad we decided to let you sleep.”

  She frowned. “When I woke up, I was angry,” she admitted. “But this is the first time I’ve really slept well, and I needed it.”

  “It was better you slept. Once we found Cirre, it took another hour to persuade him to give us the book.”

  “As simple as that?” Cait asked doubtfully.

  “No, not really. Cirre got scared when Louie started reeling off the facts and figures. He tried to run. But with a little more friendly persuasion he reluctantly showed us the book. Dolph is staying with him at his apartment until you can present the findings to the board on Monday. Cirre looked like he wanted to leave town, but you might need him.” He nodded toward the book in her hands. “Louie said there’s enough information there to blow the lid off the entire racket.”

  “Enough to incriminate Campos as site supervisor?”

  Dominic gauged her carefully. “Yes. That’s a decision you have to make, of course.”

  “What do you think Miron’s reaction would be?” she probed.

  Dominic shrugged. “You’re up against tremendous odds, Cait. They’ve never met you, yet within a week and a half of landing here, you’re going to try to convince them that their site superintendent is involved in a scandal. Plus, you’re a woman.” He caught her angry gaze.

  “Well,” she snapped tersely, “they’re in for some shocks, I’m afraid.”

  He shook his head. “You amaze me. You look so damn fragile, yet your backbone is made of steel.”

  Cait savored the gentle tenor of his words. At that moment, she didn’t feel made of metal; rather, the longing look in his eyes made her body pliant with barely suppressed needs. Talk of work and boardrooms made her uncomfortable in the revealing robe.

  “You look awfully tired yourself,” she commented. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. But—” he glanced toward the kitchen “—starved.”

  She grimaced. “I know. There’s no food except for some canned goods.”

  “How about if I take you out to eat?”

  Her pulse raced, and a blush stained her cheeks. She basked in his gaze, which seemed to melt over her body, as the orange-scented breeze had earlier. It made her feel clean and refreshed.

  He misread her hesitancy. “It will give me a chance to fill you in on the details. We can make it a business affair.” A quick, humorless smile touched his mouth as he rose. “That way you can use it as a tax write-off.”

  The crystalline spell shattered between them. Irritated, Cait tucked the record book unde
r her arm and glared at him. “Fine. I’ll buy.” Immediately she wanted to kick herself for overreacting. Why did she allow him to affect her so strongly?

  A spark of mirth glittered in his amber eyes. “No. This time I’ll buy,” he said, brooking no argument.

  Just as quickly as it had come, Cait felt the anger between them dissipated. She managed a small smile. “Is this a South American thing? A woman can’t buy a man dinner? “ A comer of his mouth quirked at her gibe. “It was my invitation, Señora. Next time you can ask me. Fair enough?”

  “Fair enough.”

  On the way to the restaurant, she stole a quick glance at Dominic, who was resting his head against the backseat of the taxi, his eyes shut. Gone was the mask that kept his true feelings so effectively hidden. Instead there was vulnerability in his mouth, and an almost boyish cast to his face. A ribbon of care invaded Cait’s heart.

  As the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the Jockey Club, Dominic awakened, as if on cue. Cait’s heart took an erratic leap as he turned and smiled at her sleepily.

  “You nose-dive, too,” she said.

  Rubbing his face tiredly, he paid the cabbie. “Force of habit. Ready to eat?” He held his hand out for her. Cait placed her fingers within his firm grasp and found herself standing only inches from him.

  Dominic smiled lazily and slipped her arm beneath his own as they sauntered toward the brightly lit entrance.

  The doorman’s tobacco-brown face lit up with unabashed pleasure when he saw Dominic. He saluted smartly as they entered. Inside, sleek-looking women circulated through the rustic interior. Cait clenched her purse as almond-eyed beauties appraised Dominic with more than passing interest. She felt heat rushing into her face.

  They left the main dining room behind as the maître d’ led them down a rich mahogany corridor bathed with flickering lamplight. At the second door he showed them into a miniature dining room, complete with their own waiter, who seated them. Menus appeared as if by magic, and Cait swallowed hard. She looked up to see Dominic’s amused expression.

  “I thought we were just going out to grab a bite to eat.”

  “You don’t approve, Señora?”

  She noted the teasing in his voice and relaxed. “Yes, it’s very…elegant. Private.”

  “If I may, I’d like to order for us.”

  “Certainly. It’s your territory.”

  He grinned, instructed the attentive waiter, then added, “Not exactly a fast-food restaurant, is it?”

  “No. You must be a member in good standing, to deserve a private room.”

  He gave her an enigmatic smile and poured bright red wine into her crystal glass. “The mood I’m in right now, plus a lack of sleep, makes this a more comfortable place for me.”

  “That makes two of us,” she agreed.

  He raised his glass in a toast. “Here’s to better times. For both of us.” They clinked glasses gently.

  She sipped the ruby liquid, never breaking contact with his curiously golden eyes. “An excellent burgundy,” she murmured, her fingers caressing the stem of the glass.

  “From Mendoza. They’re harvesting grapes up there right now. It makes for a lot of fun, dancing and just generally a relaxed atmosphere.”

  “Not like the site.”

  “No. Nothing like our site.”

  The waiter brought their salad quickly, then withdrew.

  “What do you do for pleasure?” Dominic asked, his voice breaking into her thoughts. Cait glanced up.

  “I ride horses when I’m home, do a little trout fishing.”

  “No needlepoint or knitting?”

  Her eyes danced with mirth. “And no crocheting or quilt blocking. Although my grandmother was a wonderful quilter. She tried to teach me but I just didn’t have a knack for it. Now, does that fill the gamut of my womanly duties you were curious about?”

  Dominic maintained an even expression, but she saw crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “As my father would say, you are “mâsmás a alláa de la tradition.” Beyond tradition.”

  “Is that a Spanish way of saying I’m a woman outside of what women are expected to do here in South America?”

  Dominic shrugged, leaned back and savored another mouthful of wine, regarding her through half-closed eyes. “Not necessarily. Even in Argentina some of the old, rigid customs are finally beginning to ease.”

  She toyed with her glass. “And how do you feel about women’s expanded role?”

  “I think it’s provocative…”

  The conversation was getting too intimate for Cait, and she squirmed. The silence between them deepened.

  The waiter brought a medium-rare steak sprinkle with large mushrooms and basted in butter. Hungrily Cait sliced off a succulent chunk and savored the morsel.

  “I know you’re being paid to turn this project around, but this investigation could cost you your job, too,” Dominic murmured.

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take.” She grinned. “Besides, what else am I going to do with the rest of my life?”

  “The women I know unsheathe their claws at high tea. I’ve never seen one do it at a board meeting. It ought to prove interesting.”

  Cait wanted to say, I’m not most women, but allowed the comment to pass. He knew she would not use her feminine wiles to get what she wanted. No, as Dave had always told her, she must go out front and attack after all the facts were in. She mustn’t be afraid to put her beliefs on the line.

  “Well, don’t be too amused. Your job is certainly in jeopardy also.”

  “I knew that all along. Actually, before you came I was counting the days until they gave me my walking papers.” He smiled. “You’ve given me a reprieve.”

  “Deserved, I might add. Although,” Cait added, “you have to admit you didn’t exactly endear yourself to anyone.”

  “I couldn’t. For three months I took it broadside from every management supervisor there. I was jumpy and defensive. When I finally figured out I was going to be a scapegoat, I wanted to find out why. I kept writing reports to Parker that didn’t get answered. Eventually I said to hell with it and decided to make my last stand on the bridge-building phase. They might blame me, but I wasn’t going to allow it to interfere with the work.”

  Dominic sighed deeply. “When you first came, I was enraged. I never thought you could handle a project of this size and complexity.” He laughed softly and held her gaze. “I was wrong. Thank God I was wrong.”

  She colored fiercely and toyed nervously with the linen napkin in her lap. “Well—” she laughed lightly “—I didn’t think much more of you, Dominic. You were unbelievably bad-tempered, growling and snarling at every turn. And in the print shack…”

  “I came back that night and apologized,” he defended himself.

  Her voice softened as she studied his rugged features. “I know. And that’s when I began to change my mind about you.”

  “And now, Cait?”

  She swallowed with difficulty, her pulse pounding. What did he mean to her? Her mind sped over phrases and adjectives, but her heart was speaking a different language. She was falling in love with Dominic Tobbar. The realization struck her like a thunderbolt, draining the blood from her face, making her hands tremble.

  Cait couldn’t meet his eyes. She couldn’t admit the overwhelming truth. “I value you as a friend, Dominic,” she murmured, “and I couldn’t ask for a more staunch ally.”

  There was an awful silence. When she finally dared to glance at him, she was dumfounded by the furious black scowl on his face. His features had settled into a hard mask once again, and she felt utterly bereft.

  The phone was ringing when they returned to Cait’s apartment. She hurried to answer it, at the same time motioning for Dominic to come in.

  “Chuck! What a surprise!” she cried into the receiver.

  “I just wanted to check in with you,” Chuck replied. “I read your last report, and it sounds pretty disturbing. What’s going on down there?”

&n
bsp; She sat down on the sofa, pushing her dark hair over her shoulder. “Plenty.” She rapidly filled him in on the details, aware some ten minutes later of Dominic pouring two snifters of brandy. She held out her hand to receive the glass, nodding her thanks.

  “Okay, okay.” Chuck Goodell finally agreed, “I’ll be on the first flight possible. You do realize the implications of all this, Cait? If you don’t win your case, this could result in a horrendous lawsuit between the two corporations.”

  Cait sighed, taking a sip of the apricot brandy. “I’m aware of all the ramifications, Chuck. Now, please, pack your very best three-piece suit and get down here.”

  “I’ll let you know when I arrive.”

  She replaced the receiver and began pacing the length of the living room. Outside, the lights of BA danced in the darkness like a diamond necklace. She stopped, shaking her head. “Out there…It looks so peaceful.”

  Dominic joined her, his shoulder inches from her own. “You handled yourself well.”

  She glanced up, a tight smile on her mouth. “Thanks. It’s bad enough when the stakes are high, but to be a single woman in the midst of a bunch of male lions…”

  “Take it easy,” he soothed. “You’ll do fine. You’re the lioness. And everyone knows a lion pride is ruled by the females.” He set the snifter on the coffee table, a self-deprecating grin on his face. “If you can keep me in line, you can make the chairman of the board jump through hoops.”

  She laughed with him and turned, accompanying him to the door. “Only because you allowed me to put you into line, Dominic.” She paused, finding the next words difficult to say. “Dominic,” she finally whispered, “you asked me before what I think of you now. You know you’re more than just a friend.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

  He nodded and raised her cool hand to his lips. “Buenos noches, mi leona, my lioness,” he murmured.