Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) (20 page)

"You are a fool, Marquis. I do not respect your kind of honor. Where is the honor in denying love?" At that moment Tyree would have told Marquis that Valentina and Jordanna were one and the same if he had thought it would make any difference, but he knew it would not, so he kept his counsel. "You are a blind fool," he reiterated.

Marquis's dark eyes blazed with unleashed anger. "No one calls me a fool, and I have let you get by with it twice tonight, Tyree."

"Marquis, damnit, if you love Valentina, why don't you just tell Isabel that you can't marry her and marry Valentina?"

"It isn't that simple. I am committed. Once a Vincente gives his word, he cannot withdraw it." Tyree could almost hear don Alonso speaking through his grandson. "You lived with my family long enough to know how we feel about honor, Tyree."

"Well, let's see how long it will take you to change your mind. If you really love Valentina, as you say you do, nothing could keep you from taking her as your wife."

Marquis waved Tyree aside. "You will never understand my kind of commitment in a hundred years, Tyree, so let us drop the subject. I do not understand how you can humor Valentina in this madness. You know that Udell said her father had been shanghaied. When is she supposed to leave for the mine?"

"Monday morning at six. I also told her I would bring a horse for the journey."

"You must go to her and tell her that we suspect her father is a prisoner on the
Southern Cross
. Make her see it would be foolish for her to go to the mine at this time."

"I thought you didn't want her to know that her father may have been shanghaied," Tyree stated flatly.

"You're right. Knowing how headstrong and impulsive she is, I feared she might begin frequenting the docks and get herself into trouble. Now she wants to go to her father's mine. Last time it almost cost her her life. I do not want her to go." Marquis watched his friend's face, waiting for his reaction.

Tyree hesitated. "... I agree."

Marquis nodded. "I feared you were going to fight me on this. Valentina Barrett has us both running around in circles, does she not?"

Tyree merely shrugged his shoulders. "You have never run around in circles for any woman in your life, but you will for this one before long, Marquis. The day may soon come when you will have to choose between love and honor. I know you well enough to realize that if you don't bend, you will break."

"I don't think so, my friend. A Vincente must always do what is expected of him, no matter what his feelings are to the contrary."

Suddenly Tyree started laughing. "I thought you would blow up today when I saw you with Bonita and you realized you couldn't stop to talk to Valentina and her mother. I wonder how you explained your ill humor to Bonita."

Marquis was not amused. He was still brooding about the afternoon. "I didn't. Bonita has seen that I have changed. She knows we are finished. I must say she has been a lady about the whole thing."

"Did she have any choice?"

“No, none.”

"I thought you had gone home for a week. What happened to change your mind?"

"I needed time to think. I decided I didn't want to see Isabel. It is hard to face her, knowing I love Valentina."

"Marquis, you should be glad that you have found love at last. Why don't you reach out for it with both hands? Why can't you be happy about this?"

Tyree could not know the torment that raged inside his friend. He fought a battle in which he was being forced to marry a woman who left him cold, a battle against his desire to possess Jordanna, and—the hardest battle of all—the one he fought against loving Valentina.

Marquis crossed the room to the door. "The truth of the matter is, I have never been less happy about anything in my entire life."

16

Monday morning arrived with the bright rays of sunshine lighting up the muddy streets of San Francisco with a golden glow, disguising the shabbiness with an illusion of a make-believe wonderland. Pulling the curtains aside, Valentina glanced out, dreading the trip that was ahead of her. She was weary to the very depths of her being. Dancing at the Crystal Palace and trying to keep her mother from finding out about it was taking its toll on her nerves.

When she heard Salamar coming up behind her, Valentina turned to observe the frown of concern on her maid's face.

"I have a bad feeling about this journey, Valentina. I cannot explain it, but I sense disaster if you go to the mines," Salamar said, meeting Valentina's eyes. "I wish you would not go."

Valentina felt momentary fear, knowing Salamar would not speak lightly about her feelings. "I have no choice in the matter, Salamar. You know Mother will not get well until she knows about Father. I can't just do nothing while she broods over his disappearance."

"It would be better not to go at this time," Salamar stated, taking Valentina by the shoulders and making her meet her eyes. "Do not go to that mine, Valentina. Listen to me . . . heed my warning."

Valentina felt a chill touch the back of her neck. Salamar would never have shared such a dark foreboding unless she felt it deep inside. "What should I do, Salamar? Tyree should be here any moment. What can I tell him?"

"Tell him you have changed your mind about going," Salamar stated simply.

"I can't do that." Valentina frowned. "I have to make every possible effort to find Father."

Salamar shook her head. "You are determined to do this thing?"

"Yes. Tell me what you feel, Salamar."

"Nothing I can put my finger on. Just a coldness inside when I think of your going to your father's mine."

"Would you feel better if I postponed the journey and went at a later time?"

"It would only be postponing the inevitable. I do not want you to go at all."

Before Valentina could answer, she heard a heavy rap on the door. Tyree removed his hat and smiled. "Good morning, Valentina," he said as she welcomed him into the house. "The fog was heavy last night, but it turned out to be a glorious morning."

"Would you like a cup of coffee before we leave?" Valentina asked, trying to delay their departure. Although she wanted to find her father, Salamar had made her fearful about some unknown danger.

"I wouldn't say no to a cup of coffee, but I came to try to convince you to postpone this journey to your father's mine."

Valentina looked at him in puzzlement. "Why?"

Tyree seated himself at the table while Salamar placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of him. He took a drink of the hot brew before answering. "Marquis and I talked it over and we believe you should wait a bit." As Tyree spoke, his eyes moved around the room, taking in the warmth and hominess of the cabin. Looking back at Valentina, he continued. "What I'm about to tell you now is something Marquis didn't want you to know before because he didn't want to raise your hopes, perhaps to have them later dashed. Marquis has reason to believe that your father has been shanghaied aboard a ship."

The color drained from Valentina's face as she sank down on a wooden chair. She did not know whether to be happy or more upset. "What are you saying?"

"When Marquis went to the mine and talked to your father's partner, Sam Udell, the man told him that your father had been shanghaied and placed aboard a ship called the
Southern Cross
."

"I don't understand. Why didn't Marquis tell me this before?"

"As I told you, Marquis didn't want you to live on false hope. There was no proof that what Sam Udell told him was based on fact. Also Marquis feared you and your mother would be more upset if you thought your father had been forced into slave labor."

Valentina covered her eyes with her hands. "I don't know what to think. Is there no way to prove whether or not my father has been kidnapped?"

"Shanghaied," Tyree corrected. "Mr. Udell told Marquis that your father was taken aboard the
Southern Cross
and we have been waiting for her to return to San Francisco so we can find out the truth."

Valentina's hands trembled as she reached across the table to have Tyree clasp her hand in his. "Men die when they are shanghaied, don't they, Tyree? Aren't they treated cruelly and beaten if they don't obey orders?"

"I won't lie to you, Valentina. It is a cruel fate for any man to suffer. You can see now why Marquis wanted to keep this from you."

He saw the worried frown on her beautiful face and the hint of tears in her silver-blue eyes. "Try not to worry," he said, patting her hand comfortingly. "If your father is strong, and if he follows orders, he could come out of this unharmed."

"I don't know what to feel. I fear for my father's fate at the hands of unscrupulous men. My father is a proud and stubborn man. He will not take well to being forced to do anything against his will."

"I hope you are wrong. If he is aboard the
Southern Cross
, I hope he will be wise enough to follow orders."

Valentina rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "I cannot tell my mother about this. It would set her back if she thought my father were being mistreated."

"Don't tell her. Just say that every effort is being made to locate your father."

"When will the
Southern Cross
again sail into San Francisco harbor?"

Tyree took another sip of coffee before answering. "In about three or four weeks," he replied, placing the cup on the table.

"I will postpone the trip to my father's mine until the ship returns. If my father isn't on board, I will then go to the mine. If I don't find him within six months . . ." Her voice momentarily faded. "... I will think about taking my mother back to England."

Not wanting to discuss the possibility of her leaving San Francisco, Tyree stood up. "Rest assured that Marquis and I will continue to do everything within our power to help you find your father."

Valentina looked into soft eyes that did not dance with their usual humor but instead held a light of sincerity. "You are my friend, Tyree. I don't know what I would have done without you." She did not mention Marquis, for she was not too clear on how she felt about him at the moment.

In a flash, the dancing light was back in Tyree's eyes and he lowered his rich voice so that only Valentina could hear. "I will always stand ready to help my little dancer in any way I can."

Valentina's smile was warm as she looked up at him. "I believe you would always stand ready to help any lady in trouble, Tyree. In my estimation you are a gentleman in every sense of the word."

He chuckled as he moved to the door. Placing his hat on his head, he bowed slightly. "Don't allow that rumor to circulate—I fear it might ruin my reputation around San Francisco."

When he left, Valentina turned to Salamar. "I don't know whether or not to be happy about the possibility that my father is the prisoner of some unsavory sea captain who may mistreat him."

Salamar placed the dirty coffee cups on a tray. "Time will reveal all her secrets. For now, I am happy that you did not go to the mine, Valentina. I hope you will never go, because I feel that if you do something bad will happen."

As Valentina turned away, Salamar's warning hung heavily in the air. Valentina, too, hoped she would never have to go to her father's mine.

Over the next week, Valentina's mother seemed to slip into a silent, passive mood. She ate if she was fed and answered yes or no when spoken to. The doctor declared her fever was much improved. He admitted to Valentina that her mother was suffering from a broken heart. He cautioned Valentina against taking the situation lightly and stated that treating a broken heart went far beyond his medical expertise. He urged Valentina to find out what had happened to her father, feeling Evonne Barrett

237

would be far better off if she were to know the truth of her husband's fate.

Valentina and Salamar kept troubled eyes on Evonne, fearing she would waste away to nothing. Valentina tried to cheer her mother by purchasing new gowns, bonnets, and shoes. They did not seem to help. Evonne would only glance at the expensive gowns with little interest, showing no enthusiasm about trying them on.

In desperation Valentina haunted the docks, waiting for the first sight of the
Southern Cross
, knowing that if it did not come soon, her mother might become another casualty of the California gold rush.

Valentina had just finished a difficult performance. The crowd had been enthusiastic as usual, but their response had left little impression on her. In her dressing room, she glanced in the mirror, noting the faint shadows beneath her eyes. She had to get some rest or she might collapse. If that should happen, what would become of her mother and Salamar? she wondered desperately. They were both dependent on her for their survival.

Hearing the soft knock on her dressing room door, Valentina called, "Come in," expecting to see Tyree enter. When she saw Marquis Vincente, she took a deep breath, hoping to still her thundering heart. She wondered why his presence always affected her so strongly. All Marquis had to do was look at her with those dark eyes and she melted inside.

His eyes were soft and grew even softer as they ran the length of her gently curved body. She had just performed her Cleopatra dance and was grateful that she still wore the black wig and the silver veil. "I didn't see you in the audience tonight, so I did not know you would be coming," she said in her exaggerated French accent.

"I was detained by business, but you should have known I would come, Jordanna." He pushed the door lock into place before advancing a step closer, making Valentina feel uneasy. "You know I could not stay away from you." His dark eyes were sending her a message that was unmistakable. He wanted her and intended to have her tonight!

Valentina licked her dry lips, wishing she could stop her heart from pounding in her ears. When his hand reached out to her, instead of pushing him away, she gave him her hand and it trembled as he raised it to his lips.

"It's time, Jordanna. Thoughts of you keep swirling around in my brain and I cannot get rid of them. Do not turn me away tonight. Have I not courted you long enough?"

"What of the woman I saw you with the first nigh—"

He laid his finger against her lips. "I no longer see her. She could only pour water on the fire you started in my body. Only you can stoke that fire." His dark eyes caressed her, pulled at her, excited her.

"Marquis, do not force me into anything. Do not ask that which I cannot—"

His eyes sparkled as he ran a finger along the edge of the silver veil. "Force you? I would never force you to submit to my will, Jordanna. I would not want you that way. Nothing but your complete surrender will satisfy me." Lowering his head, his lips brushed her eyelids one by one, teasing and playing with her long, silken lashes.

As he raised his head, his eyes were like a physical touch. She watched his hands, fascinated as he toyed absently with the hook on her veil. Conflicting emotions battled inside of her. A part of her feared he would remove the veil and discover her identity; another part of her hoped he would do just that.

Glancing into his face, she could almost read his thoughts. He believed her to be his by way of conquest, by right of possession.

Marquis pulled her against his well-defined muscular chest. With each breath he took, his skin brushed her breasts. His thigh was pressed against hers. She could sense the throbbing, pulsing life of him against her quaking body. His eyes were a velvety darkness, and the sound of his voice vibrated through Valentina, making her quiver all over.

"I want there to be honesty between us from the first, so no question will arise later. You can expect my devotion and attentiveness."

Valentina knew he was telling her there could be no future for them and, still, she wanted to be with him.

"What is it to be, little queen of the Nile? Do you come to me tonight ... or send me away in torment?"

Valentina was fighting a battle within herself and sensed she was losing. She knew what Marquis was suggesting was wrong, but her body craved the pleasure his eyes promised. Shaken to the very core of her womanhood, Valentina stepped out of the circle of Marquis's arms.

He watched her snuff out the candle, throwing the room into darkness. He understood it would have to be this way the first time. Perhaps later she would allow him to see her face—perhaps not. The mystery of Jordanna fascinated him as much as the idea of making love to her. He waited in the dark for her to come to him. As he held his breath, she softly took his hand.

Inflamed thoughts of what was to come blocked out everything else in Marquis's mind. Valentina guided him across the room to the satin-covered bed. Marquis scooped her up in his arms, placed her on the bed, and dropped down beside her.

His blood was on fire. He had waited a long time for this little dancer. He somehow knew she would prove worth the wait. If she wanted to protect her identity, it did not matter to him; he would play her little game. It would not bother him to discover she was hiding a horribly scarred face—all that mattered was that she surrender to his demands tonight; otherwise he would go out of his mind.

In the darkness Marquis reached out and slowly removed the veil that covered her face. Cupping her chin, he pulled her forward to receive his burning lips. "Kiss me, my little dancer," he breathed against her lips. "Kiss me and stoke the fire that already burns within my body. Later we will put out the fire together."

Valentina was an innocent. She did not fully know what Marquis expected of her, but whatever he demanded she would give to him freely. She could never have him as Valentina, but as the dancer Jordanna she would be allowed to hold on to him for a time. Hers was a hopeless love—one that had no happy ending. She would only borrow a little happiness from the beautiful Isabel tonight. She was cheating no one but herself.

Valentina knew from some of the remarks Marquis had made that he believed she had been free with her favors. Would he be angry when he discovered she had never been with a man? she wondered.

His hands were becoming acquainted with her soft body while artfully removing articles of clothing one by one. The hooks on her gown did not slow his progress— Marquis had performed this task many times in the dark. As his lips brushed her earlobe, Valentina melted against him, wishing she could stay in his arms forever. His lips gently moved across her face, touching each point, moving on to the next, finding her perfectly formed. There were no disfiguring scars on this face, he noted feverishly.

A sweet aroma, like flowers in a meadow after a soft rain, assaulted Marquis's senses when Valentina turned her head, trying to find his lips. Valentina was aching for his lips to touch hers. It was as if he were teasing and taunting, holding off the final pleasure to torment her. Again he had inspired this strange bittersweet excitement inside her body. Did Marquis know about the dull, empty feeling inside her that ached for fulfillment? she wondered.

When Marquis at last covered her lips with his, Valentina drew in a shuddering breath. Softly his tongue glided across her mouth, awakening even deeper, more disturbing emotions. He gently probed her lips apart and thrust his tongue inside, causing her to groan in pleasure.

Valentina's hands moved inside his shirt, and she began tugging at it, wanting to remove any barrier that stood between her body and this masculine body that was pulsing with passion and life. He was stoking the fire, encouraging it higher and higher.

He chuckled softly. "Patience, little tigress. Pull in your claws. We have plenty of time to explore each other's bodies." His hand drifted across her breasts and moved to rest against her quivering stomach. He could tell she was aroused by the touch of his hand, just as he was by hers. "You are experienced in pleasing a man, Jordanna. I can tell it is an art that you have been taught well," he breathed hotly in her ear. "You will please only me tonight, little dancer."

Valentina did not bother to deny his accusations or correct his assumption that she was accustomed to being with men. Soon Marquis would discover she knew nothing about pleasing a man; he would find out he was her first and only lover. She feared when he learned the truth he might be disappointed in her, or perhaps he would even be angry.

Marquis moved away, and Valentina reached out for him to discover he was removing his clothing. It seemed like an eternity until he took her in his arms and gathered her tightly against his hot, naked body. Valentina felt a heat that almost choked her as his male hardness pressed against her thigh. His hands ran up and down her spine, circling, caressing, pulling her closer to paradise.

Valentina's heart was beating so fast she thought it would burst. Even if he did no more than hold her like this, it would be enough for her to live on forever. Raising her head, her lips brushed against his cheek; reaching higher, she touched his lips with her tongue. Shyly at first, wanting to give him pleasure as he had given it to her, Valentina allowed her tongue to slide across his lower lip, then slip into his hot, moist mouth.

Marquis groaned. His head pounded and his body cried out at the sensuous feelings that rushed through every pore of his body. His hand glided down to move between her thighs. Gently he pried her legs apart and his finger slipped into the wet, velvet softness.

At first Valentina gasped in surprise. When his finger began moving in and out, she bit her lip to keep from crying out in pleasure. Marquis had awakened a part of her body that had never been aroused. She squirmed, trying to find relief from the feeling that was building up deep inside. Her responsive movements triggered a fevered awareness in Marquis. He could not wait—he had to take her now. Never had a woman reached inside of him and demanded so many emotions of him.

Rolling Valentina to her back, Marquis positioned himself above her and drove deeply into the core of her body. Valentina felt a sharp, stinging pain, as if she were being ripped apart. Pressing her lips against his shoulder, she tried not to cry out in pain. As she felt Marquis's uttered oath, the pain began to abate.

Marquis fought his way back from a raging plane of euphoria to stark reality. "My God, Jordanna, you have never been with a man before me!" he said harshly. "Why did you not tell me? What have I done?"

She reached up and drew his head down to hers. He had filled the inside of her, and her flesh was a quivering mass. She needed him to soothe the ache that burned and twisted in her stomach. "I saved myself for just the right man," she said breathlessly, remembering just in time to speak with a French accent.

Still Marquis paused. His manhood throbbed and ached from the feel of the wet silkiness in which it was embedded. "It is not my practice to deflower virgins, Jordanna. You should have told me you were untouched."

"We both wanted this, Marquis. Do not feel guilty on my account." Valentina listened to the words she boldly spoke. It was as if she were two people—one the dancer, Jordanna, who would give Marquis all he wanted, and the other the confused and muddled Valentina. It was Jordanna who spoke now. "Do you not want me, Marquis?"

He needed no more encouragement. In the soft, warm world of darkness, on a bed of cool satin, Marquis introduced the dancer Jordanna to the pleasures that a man can give a woman and, in so doing, took Valentina to heights she had never dreamed possible. No matter what happened after tonight, Valentina knew her heart would always belong to Marquis Vincente.

Marquis instructed her on each movement. His tongue aroused and teased the nipples on her breasts. Valentina, so willing to please, so excited by each new feeling he awoke in her, gave herself over to Marquis's tutelage eagerly. She was now a complete woman, reaching plateaus of glorious new sensation, floating on a tide of passion. Her skin was sensitive to his every touch, her mouth ready for his heated kisses.

When the storm of their passion had subsided, Valentina sighed contentedly and curled up in Marquis's arms. He hugged her tightly, knowing she had given more than any woman had ever given him. Always before when he had made love to a woman, he had wanted to leave immediately afterward. With Jordanna, he still wanted to touch her, to caress her, to hold her close to him. There was something different this time, and he did not want to analyze his feelings. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he could find the answer, but he did not want to try.

Jordanna's lips brushed his cheek and she spoke softly. "Did I please you, Marquis? Were you disappointed with me?”

He smiled at her completely feminine question. "Never have I been more pleased." He shifted her weight so her head was resting against his chest. "However, I should be angry at you for not telling me you had never been with a man."

"You are not angry at me, are you?"

"No." He chuckled. "How can I be angry with you when you have given me more than a mortal man should expect from his lady love."

She was silent for a moment before she asked in a soft voice, "Are you saying that you love me?"

His hesitation, was obvious. "Jordanna, love is an emotion I have had little experience with. I admire your talent; you excite me. Tonight you gave me the greatest pleasure I have ever experienced with a woman . . . but love . . . no, I do not love you or any other woman."