THE ALARM'S BUZZING at eight o'clock the next morning woke her from a deep, exhausted sleep. Bewildered over why she had set it to go off on a Saturday, she groped for the button and pushed it in, silencing the insistent noise.

When she opened her eyes again it was nine o'clock and she blinked at the light flooding into her flowered bedroom. Oh, no! Ramon would be here in an hour....

Tumbling out of bed, she hurried into the bath¬room and turned on the shower. Her pulse quick-ened with each passing minute, while everything else seemed to slow down. Her blow dryer took forever to dry her heavy hair; she kept dropping everything she touched, and she longed for a brac-ing cup of coffee.

Moving quickly, she opened drawers, putting on a pair of navy blue slacks and a matching top trimmed in white piping. She pulled her hair back and tied it with a red, white and blue printed silk scarf, then threw a random assortment of clothing into her overnight bag.

At 9:35, Katie closed the door of her apartment behind her and stepped into the balmy blue of a May morning. The large apartment complex was quiet: the typical lull of a predominately singles' complex in the aftermath of Friday night dates, parties and revelry.

Katie hurried toward her car, shifting her over¬night case to her left hand as she searched in her cavernous canvas shoulder bag for her keys. "Damn!" she breathed, putting her case down be¬side her car and rummaging frantically for her keys. She threw a nervous, apprehensive look at the traffic passing in both directions on the busy street, half-expecting to see a produce truck rattling into the entrance of the complex. "What did I do with them?" she whispered desperately. Her nerves, already strained to the breaking point, exploded in a stifled scream as a hand locked on her arm.

"I have them," a deep voice said smoothly near her ear.

Katie spun around in fright and fury. "How dare you spy on me!" she raged.

"I was waiting for you," Ramon emphasized.

"Liar!" she hissed, her fists clenched at her sides. "It's nearly half an hour before you're sup¬posed to be here. Or don't you even know how to tell time?"

"Here are your keys. I put them in my pocket by mistake last night." He raised his hand and held them out to her, along with a single, long-stemmed red rose that lay across his palm.

Snatching her keys from his hand, Katie scrupu¬lously avoided even touching the unwanted crimson flower.

"Take the rose," he told her quietly, his hand still outstretched. "It is for you."

"Damn you!" Katie raged in desperation. "Leave me alone! This isn't Puerto Rico, and I don't want your flower." Ignoring her, he con¬tinued to stand patiently. "I said I don't want it!" Katie snapped in frustrated fury and reached down for her overnight case. In the process she inadver-tently knocked the rose out of his hand.

The sight of the beautiful bloom falling to the concrete sent a pang of guilt through Katie that shattered her anger and left her feeling deeply em¬barrassed. She glanced at Ramon; his proud face was composed, reflecting neither anger nor con¬demnation—only a deep, inexplicable regret.

Unable to meet his eyes Katie dropped her gaze from his, and her guilt sharpened into shame as she saw that buying her a flower wasn't the only thing he had done to try to please her—he had obviously dressed with great care for their date, too. Gone were the worn Levi's, replaced by immaculate black slacks and a short-sleeved black knit shirt; his face was freshly shaven, the scent of spicy cologne clinging to his smooth jaw.

He had only meant to please and impress her; he didn't deserve such treatment, especially after the way he had defended her last night. Katie looked at the waxy red rose lying at her feet, and she was so ashamed that tears stung her eyes and made her throat ache. "Ramon, I'm very, very sorry," she said contritely as she bent down and picked up the rose. Clutching the stem, she dragged her eyes upward and gazed pleadingly into his guarded face. "Thank you for the beautiful flower. And if—if you still want me to, I'll go to the zoo with you, because I promised I would." Pausing to pull more air into her constricted lungs, Katie plunged on. "But I want you to understand that I don't want you to get—well—serious about me, and start—start… " Katie trailed off in be¬wilderment as his eyes began to gleam with laugh¬ter.

In a dryly humorous voice he said, "I only of¬fered you a flower and a trip to the zoo, not mar-riage."

Suddenly Katie found herself smiling back at him. "You're right."

"Shall we go then?" he suggested.

"Yes, but first let me put my overnight case back in the apartment." She reached for it, but Ramon was quicker. "I will carry it," he said.

When they entered her apartment, she took the case from him and started for her bedroom. Ra-mon's question stopped her. "Was it me you were running away from?"

Katie turned in the doorway. "Not exactly. After last night, I just felt the need to get away from everything and everyone for awhile."

"What were you going to do?"

Katie's soft lips curved into a rueful smile that brought a glow to her lovely eyes. "I was going to do what most independent, self-sufficient, adult American women do when they can't cope—run home to mother and dad."

A few minutes later they left the apartment. As they walked across the parking lot, Katie held up the expensive camera she was carrying in her left hand. "It's a camera," she told him.

"Yes, I know," he agreed with mocking gravity. "We have them even in Puerto Rico."

Katie burst out laughing and shook her head in self-deprecation. "I never realized what an 'ugly American' I am."

Stopping beside a jaunty Buick Regal, Ramon opened the passenger door for her. "You are a beautiful American," he contradicted quietly. "Get in."

To Katie's shame, she was vastly relieved that they were going in a car. Careening down the ex-pressway in a rickety produce truck just wasn't her style. "Is your truck broken down again?" she asked as they glided smoothly out of the parking lot, turning into the stream of Saturday morning shopping traffic.

"I thought you would prefer this to a truck. I borrowed it from a friend of mine."

"We could always have taken my car," she vol¬unteered.

The brief look he sent her made it clear that if Ra¬mon asked someone to go somewhere with him, he expected to provide the transportation. Chastened, Katie turned on the FM radio, then stole a sideways look at him. With his superb physique and deeply tanned face and arms, he reminded her of a Spanish tennis pro.

KATIE HAD A WONDERFUL TIME with Ramon at the zoo, even though it was crowded with Memorial Day visitors. Side by side they wandered down the wide cement paths. Ramon bought her peanuts to toss to the bears and roared with laughter in the Aviary House when a toucan with an enormous beak swooped down and made Katie shriek with alarm and cover her head.

She accompanied him into the Reptile House, trying to keep her phobic aversion to snakes under control by not actually looking at anything. The hair stood up on her nape as she kept her eyes mov¬ing around the room without focusing on any of the reptilian occupants.

"Look there," Ramon said in her ear, nodding toward the huge glass enclosure right beside her.

Katie swallowed. "I don't need to look," she whispered through dry lips. "I already know there's a tree in there, which means there's proba¬bly a snake hanging from it." Her palms were be¬ginning to perspire, and she could almost feel the reptile's sinuous slitherings on her own skin.

"What is wrong?" Ramon said sharply, noting her draining color. "Do you not like snakes?"

"Not," Katie croaked, "very much."

Shaking his head, he took her by the arm and marched her outside where Katie drew in great gulps of fresh air and sank down on a nearby bench. "I'm sure they put these benches right out¬side the Reptile House for people like me. Other¬wise we'd be dropping like flies out here." The slight cleft in Ramon's chin deepened as he grinned. "Snakes are very beneficial to mankind. They eat rodents, insects—“

"Please!" Katie shuddered, holding up her hand in protest. "Do not describe their menu to me."

Regarding her with amusement, Ramon persist¬ed, "The fact remains that they are very useful and entirely necessary to balance nature."

Katie rose a little unsteadily to her feet and gave him an arch look. "Really? Well, I've never heard of one thing that a snake can do that something less repulsive-looking can't do better."

Her delicate nose was wrinkled with distaste, and Ramon smiled thoughtfully down into the brilliant blue of her eyes. "Neither have I," he admitted.

They strolled along and Katie could not remem¬ber a more quietly enjoyable date. Ramon was always impeccably courteous, taking her arm when they walked down stairs or ramps, showing her a detached gallantry in the way he acquiesced to her slightest desire.

By the time they came to the island where mon¬keys and peacocks and other interesting, but not rare, small animals were kept, Katie had used most of the second roll of film. Helping herself to a handful of popcorn from the box Ramon held out to her, she leaned over the fence that isolated the little island, and tossed the kernels one at a time to the ducks. Her unintentionally provocative position caused the navy fabric of her slacks to stretch taut over the graceful contours of her hips and derriere, providing an appreciative Ramon with a delightful view, which he was thoroughly enjoying.

Unaware of where his attention was focused, Katie glanced over her shoulder. "Do you want a picture of this?" she asked. His lips twitched.

"Of what?"

"Of the island," Katie said, puzzled by his laughing expression. "This roll of film is nearly finished. I'll give both of them to you, and then when you have them developed you'll have a souvenir of your trip to the St. Louis zoo."

He looked at her in surprise. "These pictures are for me?"

"Of course," Katie replied, helping herself to another handful of popcorn.

"If I had known they were for me," Ramon grinned, "I would have wanted pictures of more than just bears and giraffes to remind me of this day."

Katie lifted her brows in inquiry. "Snakes, you mean? If you do, I'll show you how to use the cam¬era, then you can go back into the Reptile House while I wait here."

"No," he said wryly, as he guided her from the fence. "Not snakes."

On the way home they stopped at a small market so that Katie could buy some coffee. On an impulse, she decided to invite Ramon in for a snack, and add¬ed a bottle of red wine and some cheese to her pur¬chases.

Ramon walked her to her door, but when Katie invited him in he seemed to hesitate before finally nodding his assent.

Less than an hour later, Ramon stood up. "I have work to do tonight," he explained.

Smiling, Katie arose and went over to her camera. "There's one shot left on this roll. Stand there and I'll take a picture of you and give you both rolls to take with you."

"No, save it, and I will take a picture of you to¬morrow when we go for a picnic."

Katie deliberated about accepting another date with him. For the first time in ages she had felt lighthearted and carefree, and yet… "No, I shouldn't really. But thanks." Ramon was tall, sexy and virile, no doubt about it, but his dark fea¬tures and blatant masculinity still repelled rather than attracted her. Besides, they really had nothing in common.

"Why do you look at me and then away, as if you wish you did not see me?" Ramon asked abruptly.

Katie's gaze flew to his. "I—I don't."

"Yes," he said implacably. "You do."

Katie considered lying, but changed her mind under the scrutiny of those piercing black eyes. "You remind me of someone who's dead now. He was tall and dark and, well, just very macho-looking like you."

"His death brought you great sorrow?"

"His death brought me great release," Katie said emphatically. "There were times before he died when I wished I had the courage to kill him my¬self!"

He chuckled. "What a dark, sinister life you have led for one so young and beautiful."

Katie, who was known and liked for her sunny disposition despite the painful memories she kept buried inside, gave him a jaunty smile. "Better a dark sinister life than a boring one, I suppose."

"But you are bored," he said. "I saw it as I watched you in the place where we met." With one hand on the doorknob he looked across the room at her. "I will call for you tomorrow at noon. I will provide the food." Grinning at her surprise and in¬decision, he added, "And you can provide a lecture on how rude I am to insist, not ask, that you go places with me."

IT WASN'T UNTIL that night, when she left a bois¬terous party at a friend's apartment early because she was bored, that Katie seriously considered Ramon's parting words. Was boredom the reason for this increasing restlessness, this vague, unexplainable discontent that had been growing inside of her these past months, she wondered as she changed into silky pajamas and a matching robe. No, she decided after a thoughtful pause, her life was anything but boring—at times it was almost too eventful.

Curled up on the living-room sofa, Katie traced a long, manicured fingernail absently over the cover of the novel in her lap, her blue eyes cloudy and somber. If she wasn't bored, then what was the matter with her lately? It was a question she'd asked herself more and more often, and with mounting frustration because the answer always eluded her. If she could just figure out what was missing from her life, then she could try to do some¬thing about it.

There was nothing missing from her life, Katie told herself firmly. Impatient with her discontent, she mentally recounted all the reasons she had to feel happy: at twenty-three, she already had her col¬lege degree and she had a wonderful, challenging job that paid very well. Even without her salary, the trust fund her father had established for her years ago provided her with more money than she needed. She had a beautiful apartment and closets full of clothes. She was attractive to men; she had good friends, both male and female, and her social life was as active as she permitted it to be. She had lov¬ing, supportive parents, she had... everything! Katie told herself firmly.

What more could she possibly want or need to make her happy? "A man," Karen would say, as she often did.

A faint smile touched Katie's lips. "A man" was definitely not the answer to her problem. She knew dozens of men already, so it was not a lack of male companionship that was responsible for this restless, waiting, empty feeling.

Katie, who positively loathed anything that even approached self-pity, caught herself up short. There was absolutely no excuse for her unhappiness—none whatsoever. She was very lucky! Women all over the world were longing for careers; fighting to be in¬dependent and self-sufficient; dreaming of financial security and she, Katie Connelly, had all of that, and at only twenty-three years old. "I have everything," Katie said determinedly as she opened the book in her lap. She stared at the blur of words on the page, while somewhere in her heart a voice cried out, It's not enough. It doesn't mean anything. I don't mean anything.