Marquis stared openmouthed at the little slip of a girl, whom he could break with his bare hands. How dare she push her way into his room making impossible demands! She had to know that she was torturing him. The doctor had said he would never be able to walk.
Moving to the bed, Valentina picked up a pair of scissors that lay on the bedside table. "Juan, hold his leg while I cut the bandages off." Immediately the servant complied.
"You are not a doctor, damn you, Valentina. What are you doing? Are you insane?" Marquis raged at her.
"Perhaps I am insane," she answered, tossing the dirty bandages in a heap on the floor. Examining his leg, she almost felt her resolve slip. It was healing well, though the angry red scar was still inflamed and his thigh was swollen. She was reminded that it was her fault he was now suffering so tremendously.
Marquis wore faded black trousers that had had the right leg cut away to accommodate his bandages. Stepping back, Valentina pointed to the tub. "Juan, you and Carlo pick up your patron and place him in the tub. Do it gently and take care not to bend his legs."
As Marquis was lifted into the air, his loud protests filled the room. "Damnation, Valentina, I will not be treated like a baby. Who in the hell do you think you are?”
As he was lowered into the tub, she dropped down beside him. Marquis had never known anger such as he now directed at Valentina. "You will pay for this," he said through clenched teeth. "I'll see that you do."
Marquis had not seen Salamar until she stood over him. "You may not like what we do to you, Marquis Vincente, but, as Valentina said, we will leave when you can throw us out."
His jaw tightened and he leaned back, staring at the ceiling. He would never give Valentina or her strange-looking maid the satisfaction of humiliating him. He just would not talk to them.
Salamar dropped to her knees, gently picked up his leg, and began kneading and massaging it at the calf. Marquis could not feel Salamar's touch since his leg had no feeling in it, but he could feel the tension draining slowly out of him. Her fingertips worked like a healing balm, magically relaxing his whole body.
Closing his eyes, he felt the water wash over him with a soothing warmth. He was unaware that his bedroom was undergoing a transformation while he relaxed. His bed was moved in front of the window. His bed covers were changed, and fresh flowers were placed on several tables about the room.
Soothing hands lathered his hair and massaged his scalp. Opening his eyes, he saw that Valentina was bathing him while Salamar was massaging his leg. His anger was still there, but it had cooled considerably.
"I have not had my breakfast yet," he said testily, fighting against defeat.
Valentina was near his ear when she spoke. "You will eat as soon as the exercise is completed."
Suddenly and unexpectedly, a prickling sensation moved through Marquis's injured leg. He gripped the side of the tub to keep from crying out. Salamar was bending his leg back and forth. The prickling sensation turned to ravaging pain that stabbed like hot knives into his flesh.
Groaning, he turned his head from side to side. Agony such as he had never known assaulted his senses. He clamped his lips tightly together so he would not cry out in pain.
Salamar saw the beads of perspiration that popped out on his upper lip. "You are a proud devil," she said, clasping his leg firmly and bending it downward. "You would not ask me to stop if it killed you, would you, Marquis Vincente?"
His eyes opened and he stared into Salamar's strange eyes, which seemed to search out his deepest thoughts. "You must enjoy torturing me," he gasped.
Valentina gripped Marquis's shoulders, feeling his pain as if it were her own. She wanted to tell Salamar to stop, that she was tormenting him. She wanted to give him strength, to assure him that Salamar knew what she was doing.
"What kind of a wife are you that you want to see me suffer?" Marquis's voice was accusing.
"Tell your wife where you hurt," Salamar said softly.
His eyes bounced off Valentina to stare at Salamar. "You know damned well you are hurting my . . . leg!" His face registered surprise. "My legs!"
"Yes, the leg that has no feeling in it," Salamar confirmed with a smile. "If you can feel what I am doing to you, then you will regain the use of this leg."
Marquis looked uncertain for a moment. "I can feel pain!" He was almost afraid to hope. "Could I be mistaken? I did feel pain, did I not?" he questioned.
To demonstrate that the sensation he had felt had indeed been pain, Salamar moved the leg to one side and then the other, satisfied when Marquis's face whitened. His face was colorless as she smiled at him. "You felt pain, Marquis Vincente."
Valentina felt joy sing through her body. Marquis was going to recover!
"That is enough of this for today," Salamar declared, standing up. "After you have had a good breakfast, we will try something new."
Valentina stood up and called out to Juan and Carlos, who had been waiting by the door. "Place your patron in a chair, dry him off well, and put dry trousers on him. When that is done, tell Maria to bring his breakfast. Empty the tub, but do not put it away. We will do this same exercise every day."
Marquis hated the fact that Valentina was in charge of his life. He had not wanted her to see him this way. Still, he had felt pain in his leg. Even now it was throbbing. Hope nipped at his mind. The door of doubt had been cracked, and perhaps it would soon open all the way.
Valentina left without saying another word, but Salamar smiled at Marquis on her way out. "This morning did not go too badly. Let us hope the afternoon goes equally well."
Marquis ate a hearty breakfast. He was exhausted but excited. He would soon be a whole man again! He found himself looking forward to the afternoon.
Marquis was not asleep but resting with his eyes closed when Valentina and Salamar entered his room. He was aware of their presence when he smelled the soft scent of roses that he always associated with Valentina. Slowly his lashes opened and his eyes locked with soft, silver-blue eyes.
Seeing the wistfulness in Valentina's gaze, Marquis realized that he had been deliberately punishing her. He had married her, then deserted her in his own home. He could only imagine what she thought about him. So many things were unsaid between them. Probably they would never be said.
"It is time for your afternoon exercise," Salamar stated in a tone that said she would brook no argument. "This will be worse than the morning session," she warned, "but only because the feeling is coming to your leg. We are going to work with both legs this time."
Marquis looked at her with complete resignation. "I do not suppose there is anything I can do that will get rid of both of you?"
"Not unless you can kiss your elbow," Salamar mocked. Giving Marquis no time to consider, she jerked the cover off him and tossed it on the floor. "The sooner we get started, the sooner we will finish," Salamar told him.
How he got through the next hour, Marquis would never know. Pain was his constant companion as Salamar forced him to push his heel against the foot of the bed. Then Salamar massaged his leg, twisting it right and left. Just when he thought he could stand it no longer, she started on the other leg. When Salamar finally announced he had had enough for one day, he was weak with relief.
Marquis lay back against his pillow, trying to breathe past the pain in his leg. It was a wonderful feeling—the pain—because it meant his legs were not dead.
Valentina placed the cover over him, looking at him with wide, sympathetic eyes. "Do not pity me," he whispered, too weary to think clearly. "Do not ever feel sorry for me."
"Why should I pity you, Marquis? You are going to recover completely," she told him, turning away.
Slipping out of the room, Valentina knew she did indeed feel pity for him. If only he knew how difficult it had been for her to watch his suffering. She knew he would have to do the same tomorrow, and the next day, and as many days as it took for him to walk.
Every day for a week, Valentina and Salamar went to Marquis's room in t
he morning and afternoon. Marquis would never have admitted it, but he found himself looking forward to those times. He could feel himself growing stronger, and the pain in his legs lessened with each treatment.
Valentina closed the book she had been reading to her mother, bent, and kissed her cheek. Standing up, she flexed her tired muscles. Salamar was seated by the candle, mending a gown. Valentina whispered, not wanting to disturb her mother. "I'm going to bed now."
Salamar put her mending aside and walked Valentina to the door. "You cannot go to bed yet. There is still something you must do for Marquis. The treatment I have started must be followed exactly."
"But we have done the exercises for today," Valentina said in bewilderment.
"Tonight we begin a new treatment. Did I forget to tell you:
"Yes. You said nothing about our going to Marquis's room tonight."
"Not we, Valentina—you." Salamar pressed a jar into Valentina's hand. "This must be rubbed into Marquis's legs, taking care not to get it on the wound. You must softly massage his thighs and calves. When that is done, have him turn to his stomach and massage his arms and back. Then have him turn over and rub his chest and stomach. Do this in the sequence I tell you, and do it very carefully, caressingly. It will stimulate the flow of blood in his body."
"But-"
"No buts. If Marquis can fulfill his part and endure the pain, then surely you can do yours."
"I must get dressed first." Valentina was still confused. "I am wearing my nightgown and robe."
"Do not be silly. Marquis is your husband. Go as you are.
Valentina nodded, wishing she did not have to go to Marquis's room alone. "What if he is sleeping," she asked hopefully.
"If he is asleep, you will awaken him."
"What is this for, Salamar?" Valentina inquired, lifting the lid off the jar and smelling the pleasant scent of wild honey and some hauntingly exotic spices.
"It is one of my own creams. If it is applied properly, it will do what it is intended to do for Marquis. Remember, you must rub the cream into the skin, softly."
Valentina was resigned to her fate, but walking slowly down the hallway toward Marquis's room, she dreaded what she must do.
* * *
The maid's face eased into a smile—she was rather pleased with herself. "Yes, indeed, Salamar"—she clapped her hands delightedly—"you are a genius! If Valentina applies the cream correctly, it will have the desired effect on her as well as on Marquis."
Salamar knew that the cream had no healing substance, nor was it a magic potion. It was nothing more than her own body cream. The magic would come when Valentina’s hands moved over Marquis's body. The two young people loved each other. She would merely give them the opportunity to admit that love. What could be more intimate than Marquis and Valentina alone in his bedroom while Valentina stroked his skin?
Valentina found Marquis's room in darkness but for the faint moonlight that streamed through the open windows.
"Marquis, are you asleep?" she called softly.
He had been sleeping, but at the sound of her voice he stirred and opened his eyes. He had been dreaming about Valentina and was not sure if she was truly there or if he was still dreaming.
"Marquis," she called again, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
"No more exercise," he groaned. "Let me sleep."
"This will not be bad, Marquis. I must apply this cream to your body. You can even close your eyes while I massage it in."
"I do not suppose you will go away until I agree," he bit out in an irritated voice.
"Salamar says this is very important."
"Very well, get it over with," he said grudgingly. "Do what you will."
Valentina did not bother to light a candle. She was just as happy performing this task in the half-light.
Pulling the covers aside, she dipped her fingers in the cool cream and spread it lightly across one leg. Softly she rubbed until it was absorbed into the skin.
"You have magic fingers," he whispered, beginning to come fully awake.
"You must lie still and don't talk," Valentina said, moving her hands up the back of his legs, rubbing softly. When her fingers moved across his upper thigh, Marquis could not have uttered a word if his life had depended on it. His blood was beginning to stir. He was becoming more aware of Valentina with every sweep of her hand.
"Help me turn you on your side, Marquis," Valentina said. With her help, he was able to turn over. She was feeling strangely alive when her fingers moved across his hard-muscled back. Valentina was not aware that her movements had become caressing. She did not know that her breath had caught in her throat and that she was having a hard time swallowing. Bittersweet memories tugged at her mind. How well she remembered the strength of this body.
Trembling slightly, Valentina wondered if she would be able to continue. She was thinking of the night Marquis had made love to her in the dressing room. It had been dark then also.
"Can you turn to your back?" she asked in a breathless whisper.
After he was resting on his back, Marquis closed his eyes as her hands moved across his chest. She was stroking, circling, massaging, moving lower, lower, across his stomach. His muscles tensed, and he felt his manhood stiffen to a throbbing, pulsating ache. He wanted her—he had to have her. What could be more right? After all, she was his wife.
Valentina felt her heart hammering in her ears. Her breath was heavy and waves of passion melted her resistance. She wanted desperately to run from the room, but she stayed.
Valentina did not pull away when Marquis's strong arms went around her, dragging her onto the bed beside him. He expected her to protest, but she melted against him with a gentle sigh.
Frantically he sought her lips as a man seeks water on the desert. He emitted a groan and his tongue darted into her mouth, plunging and plundering. Hot blood was drumming in his pulses, and his hands moved aside Valentina's offending clothing so he could find the soft, creamy flesh beneath.
Her aching need was almost painful as Valentina felt his hands slide up her thigh and plunge into her moist body. Gasping for breath, she allowed her hand to drift across his hips, pulling him closer. Lowering his head, he settled his mouth on her breasts. First he tasted and circled one with his tongue, then did the same with the other.
Valentina was in agony as his wonderful hands worked magic on her body. Softly his finger moved in and out of her body, arousing, teasing, promising things to come. When he withdrew his hand, she moaned in protest, but he only laughed. Pulling her on top of him, he thrust upward and buried himself deep inside her.
A thousand candles seemed to burst forth with light as Valentina's body shuddered. With each forward thrust, he took her breath away, filling her body with his throbbing desire.
"Your legs," she managed to whisper. "We mustn't hurt—"
He pulled her head down to him, and his warm breath fanned her mouth. "Shhh," he whispered against her lips. "So sweet," he groaned in a breathless voice. "You have been eating away at my brain, Silver Eyes. I have had to watch you without touching for so long. Tonight I will have you—all of you."
With a swift upward thrust, Marquis drove all the way into her body. Valentina threw her head back and cried out in sensuous pleasure.
"Marquis," she whispered as his body became as one with hers.
With one final thrust, he brought them both to a shuddering climax. Valentina collapsed against Marquis while the whole world trembled. Slowly they both came out of the soft spell that had been woven about them. Marquis's hand moved lovingly across her face, and he pushed the curtain of gold aside, finding her lips.
"I will never let another man touch you," he declared possessively. "Swear you will never—"
Her lips touched his, stopping whatever he had been about to ask of her. Soft kisses and gentle sighs filled her mind and heart. "Have I hurt your leg?" she asked at last, breathless from his kisses.
He chuckled. "It is too late to think of that now. P
robably if your Salamar knew what happened here tonight, she would say it was good exercise."
Valentina smiled, feeling happiness in the very depths of her being. "It would not surprise me if this was what Salamar had planned all along," Valentina stated. "Most probably it was her plan."
"Stay with me tonight," Marquis murmured against her ear. "You dazzle me with your sweet fire. You make me feel more alive than I have ever before felt. I need you.
Nothing he could have said would have made her happier. "Suppose someone comes in and finds us together?" she asked.
He laughed in delight and hugged her to him. "They will just think I could not resist my wife's charms any longer and finally took her to my bed. Besides, no one would dare barge into my room without knocking, with the exception of you and Salamar."
"I have been bossy and pushy, haven't I?"
He smiled against her lips. "I cannot tell you how you badgered and bullied me, and me laid up in bed.,?
Moving over so she could lay beside him, Valentina rested her head on his shoulder. Marquis might love Isabel, she mused, but Isabel would never experience the special bond she had shared with him tonight. She did not have to be told that their lovemaking was special.
"What are you thinking?" she asked suddenly.
His hand drifted across her arm. "I was thinking how my life has changed since I met an obstinate, opinionated, silver-eyed vixen."
"I have been a lot of trouble to you, haven't I, Marquis?"
He wrapped a silken curl around his finger and raised it to his lips. Her sweet face was drawn up in a questioning frown. "No one would believe what you have put me through, Valentina Barrett Vincente. Are you always going to complicate my life?"
"I'm afraid so," she answered earnestly. "I just always seem to get into trouble. You will be put out with me many times."
He laughed deeply, hugging his precious burden to him. "I can hardly wait to see what new trouble you will get me into. You will have to go far and try hard to find something to match the cave-in."
"Don't say you haven't been warned, Marquis," she whispered. "I always get into trouble."
Golden Paradise (Vincente 1) Page 34