Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) (16 page)

The crowd roared their approval as she dramatically leapt into the air and came down in a soft curtsy. Silence followed. Then electricity seemed to charge the air, for her audience worshiped her talent, adored her feminine beauty.

When she stood up slowly, the crowd went wild, as always. Valentina's eyes were on Marquis. She saw him touch his lips to a single snow-white rose before tossing it to her. It landed at her feet, and Marquis watched spellbound as she reached down and picked up the fragrant flower and touched it to her lips. Valentina knew she was flirting, but she could not seem to stop herself. The stage was littered with bags of gold dust, yet she had chosen to acknowledge him by picking up his rose. What he could not know was that she was remembering the crimson rose he had given her as Valentina.

Blowing a kiss to the audience, Valentina quickly ran across the stage and disappeared. Everyone knew she would not come back that night, but still they called for her long after she had gone.

Tyree sat down at the table beside his friend, eyeing him speculatively. "I have seen more of you in the past two weeks than I usually see of you in a year. Could it be that you are enchanted by my new dancer, Marquis?"

"I want to meet her, Tyree. We have been friends for a long time. Surely you would not deny me this one small favor. Introduce me to her."

"Sorry, Marquis. It is her wish not to meet anyone. I have sworn to keep everyone away from her."

"Since you won a hundred dollars from me, you have to give me a chance to win it back. How about a small wager, Tyree? You are a betting man. What do you say?"

Tyree chomped down on his cigar. "I'm listening. What do you have in mind?"

"I have a note that I want you to deliver to Jordanna. If she doesn't want to see me, I will owe you a hundred dollars."

"She won't see you," Tyree said with assurance. He found it amusing that Marquis had not yet discovered that Jordanna was Valentina.

"If you are so sure she won't see me, deliver this note to her."

Tyree took the extended piece of paper and stood. "I never could resist a sure thing. When I return, I'll expect to be paid."

Marquis watched Tyree walk away, not at all sure that Jordanna would see him. She had flirted with him, but that did not mean she would want him backstage. She was like a fever in his brain. He wanted her—he wanted her almost to the point of madness.

Tyree knocked on the dressing room door and waited for an answer. He had spent thousands of dollars having the dressing room furnished for Jordanna. The colors were soft blues and whites. There was a blue velvet settee and even a bed covered with a white satin spread. At her insistence he had had an outside door built so she could leave the Crystal Palace without being seen.

Tyree smiled when Jordanna opened the door to him. There was only one small candle burning, and he could see very little in the dimly lit room. Jordanna, still dressed in her costume, motioned for him to enter.

She looked at him questioningly. "It's payday," he said, smiling. "Of course your big money comes from what the men throw to you on stage. You should be doing very well now."

Tyree was a big man and seemed to fill the room with his presence. He was so kind, and Valentina was becoming very fond of him. "I will always be grateful to you for giving me this chance, Mr. Garth."

Tyree fingered an edge of the golden veil she wore and ran it through his fingers. "How do you happen to have so many different costumes? I would wager you didn't find this kind of material here in San Francisco."

"Many of my costumes belong to Salamar. I am merely borrowing them."

"You know you're making me a wealthy man, don't you? If your popularity continues, I may have to expand."

"No, don't do that," she said quickly. "I will not be here for any great length of time, Mr. Garth. I wouldn't want you to think you can depend on me much longer."

He seated himself on the blue settee. "How soon will you be leaving?"

"I don't know." Valentina then did something that took Tyree completely by surprise; she unfastened her veil and pushed it aside. "You knew all along who I was, didn't you?"

He smiled. "Yes, Valentina, I knew."

"Yet you still protected my identity."

"We made a deal."

"Does Marquis know who I am?"

Tyree saw the misery in her beautiful silver eyes. He wanted to pull her into his arms and pledge eternal love and devotion, but he knew she was not for him. He reached out for her hand, patting it affectionately before releasing it. "No, Marquis doesn't know. As a matter of fact, he has sent Jordanna a note. He wishes to see you."

"I don't understand."

Tyree laughed at the joke on his friend. "He is enchanted by you as the dancer, my dear. He wants to talk to you. I think you can guess why."

"I . . ." She lowered her head. "I don't want him to find out who I am."

"He won't find out from me, Jordanna. Shall I send him away?"

She hesitated for just a moment before she answered. "No. I want to see him."

Tyree felt a twinge of jealousy tug at his heart. He also feared that Marquis would hurt Valentina if she were not careful. "You know what he wants, Valentina. He is of the Spanish nobility. His life has been laid out for him since the day he was born. You know you could never occupy more than a small corner of that life." Tyree knew he had to warn Valentina about what she would be facing with Marquis, though he had no desire to hurt her.

"Yes, I know." Her eyes were sad. "Even knowing he is pledged to another, I still want to see him. I know it's wrong to deceive him, but I can't let him know who I really am."

"Marquis is not like most men, Jordanna. He's from a proud breed. He may despise you when he learns you have deceived him. He thinks Valentina is an angel—I don't have to tell you what he thinks about Jordanna."

Tyree watched a tear roll down Valentina's cheek. "I will just see him this once. I will take care that he never finds out who I really am."

Not knowing how to answer her, Tyree stood up and walked to the door. "I would caution you not to feel too deeply about Marquis, Jordanna. He has broken many hearts. He wouldn't think twice about breaking yours."

She turned her back to him, knowing he spoke the truth. Had she not seen Marquis with a woman who was not his betrothed? Tyree had hinted that there were many women in Marquis's life.

Hearing the door click shut behind her, Valentina knew Tyree had gone and quickly picked up her veil and pulled it over her face.

*                                          *                                          *

Marquis did not hear Tyree come up behind him until he dropped money on the table in front of him. "You win this time, my friend. She will see you."

Marquis pushed the money aside. "You keep this. I will have something better to keep me warm."

Tyree grabbed Marquis's arm and spun him around. "Don't joke about her, Marquis. And don't hurt her. She isn't one of your doxies . . . she's special."

Marquis jerked his arm free and faced his friend with a smile on his lips. "I don't intend to hurt her. I will be very good to her. When I'm finished with her, I'll give her back to you, shall we say, more experienced."

Tyree clenched his fists together as Marquis walked away. It was all he could do to control his temper. Stalking across the room, he swore under his breath. All hell would break loose before too long. He intended to be around to pick up the pieces when Marquis tired of Jordanna. He hoped for Valentina's sake that Marquis never found out her true identity. Marquis would not like being made the fool. Sighing heavily, Tyree wished he had refused to deliver Marquis's note to Valentina.

13

Valentina heard the soft knock on the door and felt her heart leap with apprehension. Why had she agreed to see Marquis? Perhaps she should just tell him who she was and be done with it. A second rap caused her to swallow her fear. Thinking quickly, she disguised her voice and called out in French, then switched to English, imitating her mother's heavy French accent. "Enter."

Marquis swung the door open and narrowed his eyes in the darkened room. All he could see were vague shadows and outlines. When at last his eyes became accustomed to the dark, they rested on the woman still draped in gold. Smiling, he closed the door behind him.

"Thank you for seeing me."

She inclined her head.

"I was not sure how I should address you, senorita," he said in a deep voice.

"I answer to Jordanna," came the accented reply. "You may call me that."

"Jordanna is a lovely and unusual name," he remarked. "I do not believe I have heard it before."

"It is a family name," she answered, stepping away from the small circle of candlelight.

"I am Marquis Domingo Vincente, and I have been watching you perform. You dance beautifully."

"I thank you." Valentina purposely made her voice deep and husky. Her knees began to tremble when she saw the undisguised look of admiration in Marquis's eyes. It was strange being alone with him, with him not knowing who she was. Valentina began to relax. Marquis had no notion of her true identity. She realized if he ever saw the color of her eyes he would immediately know she was Valentina. Therefore she stayed in the shadows, protecting herself from discovery.

"I brought wine. Will you have a drink with me?" He moved farther into the room, holding up a bottle and removing two glasses from his pocket.

"Yes," she whispered and motioned him to the settee. The candle was on the dressing table, and when Marquis moved forward, he blocked much of the light, throwing the room into darkness.

After Marquis poured her a glass of ruby wine and handed it to her, he moved over to make room on the settee. Valentina took a sip of the wine and felt its warmth spread through her body. She could not see Marquis's face very well and took comfort in the fact that he could not see hers either.

When Marquis touched his glass to hers, his laughter was warm. "I drink a toast to the most alluring, talented dancer in all California. You are hailed far and wide as a goddess. I see in you a real flesh-and-blood woman."

Even though he had not touched her, Valentina felt the heat of his body. When he set aside his glass and captured her face between his hands, she did not move away.

"I am enchanted with you, Jordanna. You know that, don't you?"

She did not bother denying his assertion. There was no need for false modesty between them. Each could sense how the other felt. The heat and excitement that ran between them was apparent in every fiber of their beings.

She watched as he reached his hand into his breast pocket and withdrew an oblong box. "This is for you, Jordanna. I wanted to give you something to enhance your beauty. I hope you will accept this small tribute to your talent."

"What is it?" she asked, refusing to take the box from him. Marquis smiled and flipped open the catch. There, dazzling, on a bed of black velvet, was a large ruby on a heavy golden chain.

Valentina shook her head and pushed his hand away. "I cannot accept this from you. I am insulted that you should think I would."

Puzzlement was written on his face. "I do not understand. Do you think the stone is too small? You do not turn away the gold dust that is thrown at your feet on stage each night."

"That is different."

"How is it different?"

He smiled. "Don't bother. I know what you are trying to say. And, yes, I have insulted you. Forgive me?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know why you would think I would accept such a personal gift from a gentleman."

He arched a dark brow at her. "You are not going to tell me that men have never given you expensive baubles before. I am sure you have been showered with attention by men all over the world."

Valentina stood up and turned her back. "You are mistaken about me. I am not what you imply I am."

She felt him rise to stand behind her. "No, you are mistaken, Jordanna. I implied nothing but that I find you fascinating. Perhaps I am rushing you. Would you prefer that I leave now."

"I would prefer that you never come here again."

He turned her around slowly to face him. His shadow fell across her face and he could not see more than her outline. He was curious about her looks; he wondered what color her eyes were. Perhaps it was best not to know, he decided. Mystery was what had drawn him to her in the first place. He felt wildly alive with her. Jordanna drew many of the same emotions from him that Valentina Barrett had. Of course the dancer was not pure like his little Silver Eyes. But she could help ease the deep ache that Valentina had left inside him.

"Again I ask that you forgive my boldness. I started out all wrong. I can only say in my defense that I was overcome with admiration for you. Give me another chance, and you have my word that I will make it up to you.

His black lashes lowered to hide the dark eyes. "Allow me to be your friend, Jordanna."

"I . . . there are reasons why I cannot have you for a friend."

"Are you married?"

“No.”

"Would you tell me what your reasons are?" He looked about the dimly lit room and the truth hit him. "No, don't tell me. You don't want me to know who you are, do you?"

"I don't want my identity known to anyone."

Marquis savored the moment. Excitement throbbed through his body like wildfire. His whole being had been seduced by the dancer—seduced by the mystery of her! He had to see her again! He had to! "If I promise not to press the issue, will you allow me to visit you again?"

Valentina was experiencing the same emotions Marquis was feeling. Her stomach was knotting and her hands were clasped tightly in her lap for fear that she would give in to the impulse to reach out and touch him. There was a deep longing brewing, stirring, bursting forth within her. "I don't know ... I think it would not be proper," she stated, wanting desperately to say yes.

He laughed softly, exhilaration singing through his body. "You have my word that I will act with decorum at all times. Can I call on you at your home tomorrow night after your performance?"

"No. If you want to see me, it will have to be here in my dressing room."

He chuckled delightedly. "I will do as you say, but I still contend that you are hiding a husband somewhere. Why else would you go to the trouble of surrounding yourself with such secrecy?"

Valentina felt his hand brush against her arm. Her throat seemed to close off, and she wanted to melt against him. More than anything she wanted to put this farce aside and lift the veil of deception. She wanted to be held in his arms and kissed. It did not matter that he was betrothed to another and that he probably had dozens of mistresses. From the very beginning he had stirred something to life inside of her; now it had reached a boiling point.

"It is getting late. I think you should leave now," she managed to say, wishing she dared ask him to stay.

His hand slid up her veil and he brought her face close to his. Feeling her stiffen, he said, "Do not fear me, little dancer. I, like everyone else, am intrigued by your mystery. Until you give me permission, I will not lift your veil. Your secret is safe from me . . . and with me." His fingers trailed seductively along her cheek. "I will leave for now, but I will be back tomorrow night, Jordanna. Know that I will be in torment until I see you again."

Valentina felt as if she had fallen into a deep abyss as his lips brushed hers through the veil. Before she could react, he moved across the room and was out the door. Sinking onto the settee, she wondered if those who dared to play with fire really did get burned.

Marquis had been coming to every performance for over three weeks. Afterward he would come backstage to Valentina's dressing room. He was always the perfect gentleman, saying and doing everything correctly. Even so, the tension between the two of them mounted each time they were together.

To Valentina's surprise, Salamar had made no objection when she learned of Marquis's visits. She was always careful to leave before Marquis came, knowing he would realize who Valentina was if he saw her.

The first few times Marquis visited her, Valentina had been nervous and uneasy about being alone with him. She found that when he was not with her, she dreamed about him, awake or asleep. Soon she began to question why he did not try to kiss her. What was wrong with her? Didn't he like her? Night after night the strain between them was building. Valentina knew it was but a matter of time before everything came to a head.

Marquis had not gone back to Paraiso del Norte since he had met Jordanna. He knew he was neglecting his duty, but he could not seem to leave her. She was a fever in his brain as well as in his body. He had to have her. He did not delude himself into thinking he loved the dancer, but he desired her with a seething passion.

As the curtain rose there was no sound other than the music—exotic music that could have come straight from ancient Egypt.

Marquis caught his breath as Jordanna appeared on the stage draped in a shimmering silver veil. With a high leap she rushed across the stage, holding the veil so it billowed out in front of her. The audience gasped as she allowed the veil to mold to her, outlining her beautiful body. Jordanna swirled and turned, soft and alluring, feminine and seductive.

As always, she held the audience in the palm of her hand. The Crystal Palace was so crowded it could not have accommodated another person.

Marquis looked at some of the faces of the men as they watched Jordanna dance. He was annoyed at the way they worshiped her. He wanted her to himself. He did not like the idea of sharing her with anyone. As he studied the faces, he wondered if any of the men had been Jordanna's lovers.

Tonight he would have a serious talk with her. He would offer to make her his mistress. He would set her up in a fine house on the hill and staff it with servants. She would want for nothing, and she would dance only for him.

Another gasp could be heard as Jordanna dropped the veil to the floor. She stood still as the silken material settled about her feet. She was dressed as Cleopatra, the queen of the Nile. A thin silver veil covered the lower half of her face. A shoulder-length black wig framed her head and silver slippers adorned her feet. The sparkling material crossed over her breasts, revealing a creamy white shoulder. The gown was molded to her body like a second skin.

Her hips started moving, and the audience adored her with their eyes. The music became louder and louder, the tempo faster and faster. She whirled and danced, carrying the heart of every man across the stage with her. The audience belonged to her—she held them enraptured. There wasn't a man who wouldn't have died for her at that moment.

The tempo slowed and Jordanna blew a kiss and ran off the stage, disappearing behind the curtains. The noise was deafening as the men jumped to their feet crying for more.

Tyree Garth watched Marquis make his way through the crowd, annoyed that he was going to Valentina's dressing room. Tyree foresaw heartbreak ahead for his little dancer. He wished he had the means to protect her. Marquis was his best friend, but he could be cruel and unfeeling where women s hearts were concerned.

Tossing his cigar on the floor, Tyree ground it beneath his boot. Why should he care what happened to Valentina? he asked himself. She was nothing to him— she worked for him like all the other women he'd hired. No, she wasn't like the others. For some reason unknown to him, he cared very much what happened to her.

Marquis tossed his hat on a vacant chair and propped his booted foot on the rung while his dark eyes surveyed Jordanna. As usual, there was a single candle burning, and it gave off very little light. Jordanna's face was still hidden by a thin veil that fit over the lower half of her face. Her hair was covered with a green turban so it was impossible to determine its color.

"Do you still insist on remaining my mysterious little dancer?" Marquis asked with a twinkle in his eyes. "Do you not know by now you can trust me to keep a secret, Jordanna?"

Sitting before the mirror, her back to Marquis, Valentina pulled the light green brocaded robe about her neck, all the while drawing away from the light. "You gave your word you wouldn't question me about my identity."

His laughter was warm. "Never fear, I am a man of my word. I find you very intriguing. Perhaps if I knew who you were, I would lose some of the fascination I feel for you.

Valentina could not help but smile at his observation. She was excited by his mere presence. A warmth spread through her body every time he was near. She had the advantage of knowing what it was like to be kissed by him. But the kisses he had given Valentina had been chaste and sweet; she wondered what his kiss for Jordanna would be like.

"What if you were to learn I am nothing more than a respectable matron, with a husband and six children waiting for me at home," she teased.