Golden Paradise (Vincente 1)

by Constance O'Banyon

  The night air had been washed clean by the rain, and a wonderful, drugging aroma came from the garden, filling Valentina's senses. Leaning forward, she listened to the music. She had the feeling that many Vincente brides before her had stood in this very spot being serenaded by the soft music of Spanish guitars.

  Marquis stepped out of the shadows and stared up at her with adoration in his dark eyes. "I come as a beggar, senora, hoping you will accept this small tribute of my love." He tossed her a white rose. She caught it and placed it behind her ear. Joy danced in her eyes, for she now knew why Marquis had acted so distant earlier. He was courting her in the Spanish tradition!

  Slowly he climbed the steps toward her. The guitarists dropped back into the shadows, but their music still filled the garden. Marquis's eyes were hypnotizing as he came nearer. She could tell by his expression that this was no game he was playing. When he took the last step that brought him even with Valentina, he bowed gallantly. "My lady wife, I come to you as I should have the first night I took you as my bride. I give you my heart and pledge eternal love. Will you accept this from me?"

  "You couldn't," she reminded him. "You couldn't walk at that time."

  He smiled. "I should have crawled to you." Suddenly he wasn't smiling. Holding out his hand, he asked, "Will you accept me, Valentina?"

  Her hand trembled as she offered it to him. "I accept with all my heart. I love you, Marquis." Her voice broke. "I always have."

  His eyes flamed as his hand tightened on hers. Without a word, he led her inside. Holding her at arm's length, he hungrily ran his eyes over her soft curves. "Who will come to my bed tonight—the dancer, Jordanna ... or Valentina?"

  "They are both me, Marquis—they are both married to you."

  He lifted her in his arms and placed her on the bed. Her heart was thudding so hard in her chest that she could hardly breathe when he started slowly to remove his clothing, piece by piece. When he stood before her in all his magnificence, she held her hand out to him.

  Dropping on the bed beside her, he slowly removed the pins that secured her hair and a curtain of gold tumbled across her shoulders. He then ran his hands through the tresses caressingly, as if it were the most delicate and priceless spun gold.

  His eyes flickered as he took the white rose from behind her ear. When he moved the soft, fragrant petals across Valentina's lips, her senses were filled with its' sweet aroma.

  Marquis's dark eyes stared into Valentina's, thrilling her to her toes. He saw no resistance in her silver-blue eyes when he slipped her nightgown up her legs and over her head.

  Valentina's body readily responded to his feathery touch. Her head was whirling when he touched her mouth lightly with his. He was treating her like a piece of fine porcelain, fearing she might break. Slowly he was stirring the fires of passion within her. Gently moving down her arm, across her breasts, he followed her velvet curves with his eyes. His fingertips circled her breasts, inviting the gathering tide of passion that surged inside her body.

  "I am happy," he breathed hotly against her mouth. "That which I treasure most in life has been returned to me. I will never let a day go by that I will not remind you that you are my greatest treasure."

  Valentina felt her heart swell with so much love that she thought it would burst. As his wonderful hands worked magic on her satiny skin, he filled the emptiness of her body with his pulsating shaft.

  Marquis took her body leisurely to paradise, knowing they had the rest of their lives to love each other.

  Valentina closed her eyes as waves of ecstasy passed through her. She knew that after tonight she would never again be intimidated by Marquis's domineering personality, for she had found the softer side of his nature. She would never again doubt that he loved her.

  After the storm of passion had passed, leaving Marquis and Valentina breathless, his dark eyes swept her face as tender feelings melted his heart. "The first time I saw you, Valentina, I knew I was to love you. I would never have found happiness had you not loved me."

  "I loved you as Valentina, but I could only show that love through Jordanna, the dancer," she admitted.

  His smile was heartwarming. "Sometimes, when we are alone, perhaps you will dance for me. I will never allow you to dance for anyone else."

  "Are you not ashamed of me because I danced for money r

  "No, not now. I would like it if the whole of California could know that the beautiful dancer who won every man's heart belongs to Marquis Vincente alone."

  She laughed and cuddled up in his arms. "We will have to keep this our secret. Jordanna will never dance for anyone but her husband. She has retired from the stage—permanently."

  Marquis heard the baby awaken and he moved off the bed to pick her up. As he placed her beside Valentina, his eyes misted with happiness. He watched, fascinated, as the hungry rosebud mouth nursed at Valentina's breast. His arms went out to bring them both within the circle of his love. He was captivated as he saw his tiny daughter drift off to sleep. With the tip of his finger, Marquis traced the heart on his daughter's upper leg. She was so beautiful, so important to him already.

  Marquis shivered when he thought how different his life would have been if he had married Isabel Estrada. He knew he would thank God every day of his life for his beautiful, silver-eyed wife. As his eyes locked with Valentina's, he saw she was troubled.

  "Are you happy?" he whispered.

  "I would be completely happy but for one thing, Marquis," Valentina admitted.

  "You have but to tell me what would make you happy and I will give it to you," he said, kissing the tip of her pert little nose. "Ask anything of me that you will."

  "I want Rosalia to come home. Please send for her, Marquis. If you have forgiven me for deceiving you, then forgive your sister for marrying the man she loves."

  She could see the conflict in his dark eyes. It was not easy for him to forsake the ways of his ancestors. Finally he smiled and nodded. "I will send for Rosalia and Felipe tomorrow."

  Valentina basked in Marquis's tenderness and love. Now he was allowing all his defenses to fall away, one by one, leaving himself open and vulnerable. He was an honorable and loving man, yet it was these two admirable qualities that had caused such opposing emotions to war within him. He had tried to uphold his family's traditions, while wanting to follow his heart.

  This golden land of California had taken Valentina to its bosom; she had borne a child of this land—a daughter—whom Salamar had predicted would one day return to England to fulfill her destiny.

  Sighing contentedly, Valentina felt Marquis's lips settle on hers. Laughing delightedly, with happiness overflowing her heart, she watched him lift their sleeping daughter and place her back in the cradle.

  Returning to Valentina, Marquis enfolded her in his warm embrace and once more stirred her passion to life. She felt Marquis's lips move across her breasts, sending delightful tremors through her body.

  "You are mine, Silver Eyes," he murmured. "I will never let you go again."

  Oh, yes, she thought joyfully, she was Marquis's by conquest—by way of possession! She remembered a time when that thought had frightened her . . . but not any longer.