The Pirate Prince (13 page)

The variety and quality of goods amazed Willow. It was obvious that pirating was a lucrative business. Dariq had been right when he’d said the residents of Lipsi Town often visited the marketplace, for she saw men, women and children in traditional Greek clothing examining the wares.

“ ’Tis such a fine day, and everyone seems to be out and about,” Dariq said. “If you see the man we’re looking for, point him out. Mustafa will handle the matter from there.”

Willow nodded, her attention suddenly caught by a necklace of flawless emeralds. She reached out for it and held it up to the sun, exclaiming over the purity of the stones. Dariq snatched it from her hands and replaced it on the display board.

“Remember why we are here,” he reminded her. “Walk ahead a bit while I speak to Mustafa. Do not worry, for I won’t let you out of my sight.”

Willow strolled at a leisurely pace, enthralled by the scents and sounds around her. Everything from rich silks and satins to precious jewels and artwork was displayed. One booth offered a variety of weaponry, around which a crowd of men had gathered.

Dariq and Mustafa rejoined her. “Have you spotted him yet?” Dariq asked. “Look closely at the men loitering near the weapons.”

Willow took a closer look. Most of the men looked alike with their scruffy beards, mustaches, unkempt hair
and turbans. Then she saw him. She’d never forget those eyes. He looked directly at her.

She sensed his fear as he backed away. Willow pointed to him. “There he is!” The man turned and ran.

Mustafa gave chase. Willow had never seen a man his size move so fast. Though the culprit was fleet of foot and tried to lose himself in the crowd, Mustafa soon had him cornered. He dragged the wildly protesting pirate to where Willow and Dariq stood.

The pirate fell to his knees, groveling before Dariq. “Forgive me, my lord,” he wailed. “I meant your lady no harm. I was paid to take her to Greece.”

“By whom, Hamid?”

“Lady Safiye, my lord.”

“How much did she pay you to make sure Lady Willow did not survive the crossing?”

Hamid blanched. “You will order my death if I tell you.”

“I will order your death if you do not.”

Hamid must have known he was doomed whatever he did, for he started shaking uncontrollably. “I cannot betray my lady Safiye.”

Dariq didn’t need to be told how Safiye had induced Hamid to do her bidding, and it made him wish he hadn’t let Safiye off so easily.

“Did Safiye offer her body as inducement?” Silence. “Do not deny it, for your refusal to speak condemns you. Take him away, Mustafa.”

Hamid was still protesting his innocence as Mustafa dragged him away. “We are done here,” Dariq said.

“Can we not remain for a while longer?” Willow pleaded. “I have never seen anything like this. Oh, look! There’s a parrot. Is he not darling?” She rushed over to stroke the bird’s colorful feathers.

Dariq saw no harm in allowing Willow to browse in the souk, for it was indeed a colorful place, filled with scents and sights she was unlikely to encounter again. His brother jealously guarded his women; they were allowed little freedom. On Lipsi, women were free to do as they pleased. Dariq’s seraglio was the only dwelling on the island with a harem, and only Safiye had occupied it. But even Safiye had been allowed to come and go at will.

“Very well, we will stay until you have had your fill of the noise and bustle.”

“What will become of Hamid?” Willow asked as she fingered a lovely piece of silk.

“Punishment among the Brotherhood is harsh when the crime is serious. He will be judged and sentenced by a tribunal consisting of myself and members of the Brotherhood.”

“Perhaps the tribunal will not see what Hamid did as a crime,” Willow said, moving on to examine a colorful caftan.

“There is a code among the Brotherhood. Hamid broke that code when he agreed to murder someone I hold dear. I can assure you he will not escape unscathed.”

Dariq followed Willow as she stopped at a booth to examine a length of cloth. Then she moved on to a booth displaying a variety of utensils. Dariq remained a few steps behind as he spoke to the cloth vender.

Then Willow wandered back to the booth where she had seen the emerald necklace, stifling a cry when she saw it was no longer on display.

“Is something wrong?” Dariq asked.

“The emerald necklace is gone.”

“Did you think it attractive?”

Willow heaved a wistful sigh. “ ’Twas the most splendid
thing I have ever seen. It had to be worth a fortune. I bet it was meant for a queen, or at least a princess.”

“Perhaps it was,” Dariq muttered cryptically. He guided her to a stall where she had admired a scarf. He picked it up and held it out to her. “Does this scarf please you?”

“It’s lovely.”

“ ’Tis yours,” he said, paying for it with coin from his pocket.

“Thank you,” Willow murmured.

“Have you seen enough? We’re starting to attract attention.”

“But surely no one will harm me while I am with you?”

“I would like to think not, but pirates are an unpredictable lot. One never knows what is in such a man’s mind, as you learned with nearly tragic results. I hold a certain amount of control over them, but not all those who sail aboard my ships are Turks. They come from many countries and are of diverse faiths.”

“Perhaps you will allow me to visit the souk another time.”

“Perhaps,” Dariq acknowledged. He grasped Willow’s elbow and guided her through the crowd to the carriage.

“Prince Dariq!”

Dariq spun around, smiling when he saw Captain Juad. “When did you arrive, Captain?”

“Just this morning. It took longer than I expected to make the temporary repairs to my ship. When you have time, I would like to talk to you about the code your captains are required to adhere to. There is also the matter of living quarters on the island for myself and my men while my ship is undergoing the rest of its repairs.”

“Mustafa will find quarters for your men. Your high rank, however, demands something more appropriate.
You may stay in my seraglio. After you gather your personal items from your ship, Mustafa will escort you to my home.”

“Thank you, Prince.” Juad’s gaze settled on Willow. “Tell the lady ’tis good to see her well and thriving.”

“Lady Willow understands and speaks Turkish now,” Dariq informed him. “She is a quick learner and has mastered the rudiments of our difficult tongue.”

Juad beamed at Willow. “You are indeed a treasure, my lady.” He bowed gallantly. “Peace be with you, my lord Prince.”

Dariq nodded and steered Willow to his carriage. He helped her inside and climbed in beside her. Mustafa was already perched on the driver’s box.

“Where is Hamid?” Willow asked. “Where did Mustafa take him?”

“Do not fret, beauty. Hamid will never bother you again.”

Clutching the scarf Dariq had bought her, Willow remained silent during the ride back to the seraglio. Though the gift meant a great deal to her, she would leave it behind when she left. She wanted nothing to remind her of Dariq. It would be too painful. He said he cared for her, and she wanted desperately to believe him. Unfortunately, he didn’t care enough to return her to her home, or to claim her for himself.

The carriage rolled to a stop; Dariq handed Willow down and escorted her inside. But instead of sending her to the harem, he took her to his chambers.

“What am I doing here?”

“Did I not make myself clear? You are to remain with me. You may take off your head scarf now. When we are alone, you are free of restrictions and may dress as you please.”

Willow unwound the scarf and tossed it aside. “Just as Safiye was free of restrictions when you were alone?”

Dariq’s lips thinned. “Do not mention her name to me again. She betrayed me in a way I can never forgive. Only Allah knows how many men shared her favors while I was away.”

Willow walked to the couch and sat down, folding her hands primly in her lap. She cleared her throat. “What do you suppose Ibrahim will do when he learns I am not a virgin?”

Dariq sat down beside her. “Your beauty should more than make up for your lack of maidenhead.”

“And if it does not? Will he punish me? You said he was a cruel man.”

“A cruel man but not a foolish one. If he is not pleased with you, he will turn a profit by selling you to one of the pashas he favors. Even without a maidenhead, you are worth a great deal.”

Willow glared at him. “And that does not bother you?”

Dariq didn’t reply, for there was no easy answer. Not only would it bother him, he would probably repent his action the rest of his life, just as he would regret his mother’s death if he kept Willow for himself. Never had he been so torn.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, nimbly changing the subject. “We can eat in the garden—would you like that?”

He yanked on the bell pull; a servant appeared at the door almost instantly.

“Please serve our meal in the garden.”

The servant nodded and left.

Dariq took Willow’s hand and led her through a pair of French doors to a tiled patio surrounded by a profusion of flowers.

“How charming,” Willow whispered. “I have not seen this before.”

“It’s my private garden. I knew you would enjoy it.”

Willow glared at him. “Why should my feelings make any difference to you?”

He dragged her into his arms. “I wish I knew.”

His head lowered toward hers. Willow tried to avoid his kiss, but Dariq’s determination won out. He persisted until his mouth found hers and claimed it. His arms held her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. She twisted free and stepped away, her hand covering her lips. She turned her back on him, angry at herself for responding to his attempt at seduction.

She sensed him standing behind her and held her body stiff. She gasped when she felt something cool circling her neck and looked down. She spun around, her hand clasping the emerald necklace he had placed around her throat.

“
You
bought the emeralds!”

“Aye, for you. Do they please you?”

“You know they do; they are magnificent. But—”

“Hush, sweet Willow. I would give you all that you desire … all within my power to give.”

“Will you give me freedom?”

“That, I cannot do.”

She opened her mouth, hesitated, then blurted out, “Will you give me your heart?”

Dariq went very, very still, refusing to meet her gaze. “Perhaps I would, if I were free to do so.”

“Say no more, Dariq. I do not believe in miracles. I cannot compete with the woman who gave you birth.”

Tears came to Willow’s eyes as she fingered the emeralds. Then she undid the clasp and placed them in Dariq’s hand.

“I cannot accept them. I want nothing to remind me of you after you send me away.”

After you send me away
.

Those five words made Dariq’s gut clench with unspeakable pain.

How could he let her go?

How could he not?

Chapter Twelve

Dariq stared down at the necklace as if he expected it to bite him. All he’d tried to do was please Willow. He should have known she was too proud to accept gifts from her captor.

Nevertheless, the way Willow had spurned the emeralds hurt. Was it wrong of him to want her to remember him for his kindnesses to her?

Anger took over where hurt left off. Thrusting the emeralds into his pocket, he turned on his heel and stormed off. When Dariq entered the seraglio, he barked orders to a servant standing nearby.

“Serve the lady’s lunch in the garden. I will not join her today.”

Mustafa appeared at Dariq’s side. “Why are you angry, Prince? Your face looks like a thundercloud in a storm.”

“Do not push me, Mustafa.”

“Did the lady not like the emeralds? Did you give her the silk you purchased for her?”

“She spurned the emeralds, so I did not show her the silk.”

Mustafa shook his head. “You have become too attached to the Lady Willow. Ahmed will return soon with Ibrahim’s reply to your request for an exchange. Whether you like it or not, you must send the lady away.”

“Do you not think I know that?” Dariq whispered in a voice fraught with anguish. “How am I to do something which is so reprehensible to me?”

“ ’Tis your duty,” Mustafa replied. “There are other women, some more beautiful than Lady Willow. You will find someone to take her place.”

“Leave me, Mustafa. Go fetch Captain Juad. He is waiting for you at the harbor. I invited him to stay with me while his ship is being repaired. And you will need to find quarters for his crewmen.”

Dariq could tell Mustafa was worried about his state of mind. “Worry not, my friend,” Dariq said reassuringly. “I will not falter. Saliha Sultana will not suffer because of my lust.”

Mustafa nodded and left to do Dariq’s bidding.

Still too hurt by Willow’s refusal to accept his gift, Dariq did not return to his chamber the rest of that day.

Willow picked at her supper in the same desultory manner as she had pushed her lunch around her plate after Dariq had stormed off earlier in the day. She knew she had hurt him, but she couldn’t bring herself to accept the necklace. Each time she looked at it she would be reminded that the emeralds were meant to salve Dariq’s conscience.

Willow’s thoughts ran the gamut from rage to self-pity to indignation and back to rage. She prowled Dariq’s chamber. Once she even tried to leave, but was stopped at the door by a guard who barred the exit. That made her still angrier. If Dariq dared to return to his chamber, she
intended to give him the sharp edge of her tongue.

Shadows filled the room as darkness covered the land. A servant arrived to light the brazier and candles. Though Willow was tired, she refused to let herself fall asleep until Dariq arrived. She sat down on the couch to wait. Exhaustion claimed her before she was prepared to accept it. Her eyelids dropped and her body slumped sideways. Before long she was sprawled across the couch, fast asleep.

Dariq spent the evening with Captain Juad and Mustafa, talking and sipping excellent brandy taken from a Turkish ship sailing out of Marseilles. Dariq rarely imbibed. The Muslim half of him avoided liquor because it was forbidden, but the Christian half allowed it, even embraced it on certain occasions. The fact didn’t escape him that Willow was driving him to drink. Wanting her was a constant ache inside him, but he knew he had to adhere to reason and remember why he had taken her in the first place.

Captain Juad finished his brandy and yawned. “I believe I will seek my bed, my lord. It has been a long day, and tomorrow promises to be even longer. I am anxious to ready my ship to ply the seas in your service.” He rose. “Did you mean what you said, Prince Dariq, about bringing my family to Lipsi?”

“I did indeed,” Dariq said absently. “We will speak of it another day. As you said, it is late.”

Juad bowed and retired to his chamber.

Mustafa lingered, his intent gaze assessing Dariq’s mood. “You appear greatly disturbed, my prince.”

“You are too observant, my friend.”

“I know you. I can count on one hand the times you’ve turned to alcohol; all of them during troubled periods of
your life. ’Tis the woman,” he said sagely. “Perhaps you should place her in my care so you will not be tempted by her again.”

Dariq’s head snapped up. “Nay! I am responsible for her, not you or anyone else.” He winced as if in pain. “The necessity of giving her to Ibrahim does not please me.”

“You cannot back down now. Our plans have already been set into motion. You are obsessed with the houri, even though you knew from the beginning that she was not destined to be your woman. She was meant for your brother’s bed, not yours. Bedding her has jeopardized our plans and placed your mother’s life at risk.”

“Enough!” Dariq shouted. “I do not need you to preach to me; I know where my duty lies. Go find your bed, Mustafa. We will speak again of Willow’s fate when Ahmed arrives.”

Mustafa bowed; his eyes were grave with knowledge that came from years of close association with Dariq.

Dariq lingered over his brandy. The talk about Willow had created a primitive need that drew his body as taut as a bowstring. Abruptly, he uncoiled himself from the couch upon which he had been reclining, picked up the half-empty bottle of brandy and strode purposefully toward his chamber.

When he felt the emeralds Willow had spurned rattling in his pocket, hurt returned with a vengeance. His steps faltered, but only for a moment. Physical need for Willow transformed his hurt, pride and anger into desperate need. Whether it was the brandy speaking or his heart he knew not, and he did not dare to delve too deeply into his emotions.

Dariq opened the door and stepped inside his chamber. Willow had left a candle burning on the table, its subdued
flame a slip of gold against the blackness. His gaze went immediately to the bed. It was empty. Anger built again as he scanned the room. Then he saw her; she was sprawled on a couch, fully dressed and sleeping soundly. His loins clenched. He knew Mustafa would advise him to leave Willow untouched and seek his bed, but it did not please him to do so.

He set the brandy on the table and walked to the couch, where his lover lay sleeping. He knelt beside her and touched her lips with his. She didn’t stir. He caressed her breasts, cursing the layer of cloth that prevented closer intimacy. He wanted her naked, every inch of her lush body exposed for his enjoyment. His eyes lit up when he spied the buttons marching down the front of her gown.

With trembling hands he released each button, but still she did not stir. As he lifted her to remove her gown, she awoke; her eyes were glazed with sleep and her expression fuzzy with confusion.

“Dariq? What are you doing?”

“Trying to undress you.”

She pulled the edges of her bodice together. “Whatever you have in mind, forget it.”

Their eyes locked. Tension drew his features taut, but then his expression swiftly relaxed into a faint smile. “Perhaps a kiss will change your mind.”

Willow didn’t want to kiss Dariq, for seduction would quickly follow. “Naught will change my … Oh—”

Dariq stopped her protest with a kiss that seemed to go on forever and ever. He was the devil’s own disciple, tasting of brandy and sin. His kisses made her forget her own name. When he thrust his tongue inside her mouth, exploring more deeply, she wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet. She fought his seduction with what little remained
of her resistance, but it wasn’t enough.

“Don’t fight this, beauty,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to pleasure you until your body is sated and you scream my name, and then I will pleasure you again.”

“You’ve been drinking!” Willow charged. “I thought Muslims were forbidden alcohol.”

“Tonight I am Christian.”

“You are a fraud.”

“I am what I am.”

Before she realized his intention, her gown was eased away, drawn over her head, fluttering to the floor. Her shift followed and then her slippers.

She reached for a coverlet; he pulled it from her fingers and tossed it aside. Pulling the threads of her dignity together, she said, “I tried to stay awake until you arrived so I could convince you to return me to the harem.”

He chortled. “What makes you think I would have granted your request?”

“Since I had no intention of letting you …”

“… make love to you?”

“Bed me. Bedding is not making love,” she explained. “When a man and woman make love, there are supposed to be tender feelings between them.”

Dariq frowned. “Do you not hold tender feelings for me?”

The chamber throbbed with silence.

He grasped the pale oval of her face between his hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I want to hear you say you care for me.”

“Why? Even if I bared my heart to you, it would change naught. Your arrogance is appalling. Does your pride demand that every woman you bed fall in love with you?” Her lips thinned. “I… I like you not. Nor do I enjoy being your love slave.”

Dariq’s scowl should have warned her. “Love slaves must obey their masters.”

Scooping her from the couch, he carried her to his bed. She watched warily as he removed the emerald necklace from his pocket and placed it on the nightstand beside a half-empty brandy bottle. Then he stripped off his clothes.

“If you consider yourself a slave, you will cater to my every desire. Spread your legs, slave, and prepare to receive your master.”

Willow tried to roll off the bed, but he threw himself on top of her. She heaved against him, but he was an unmovable force determined to have his way.

“No man will ever be my master!” Willow cried. “Go away, you’re drunk!”

“Drunk on your beauty and lush body. You are mine, Willow. I mastered you the first time you took me inside you.”

She raised her hand to strike him, but he grasped her wrist, holding it captive above her head, subduing her with his sheer strength. Their bodies were meshed together, legs entwined, her breasts flattened against his chest. His staff was hard and heavy and massively engorged.

Suddenly the pressure on her breasts eased as he rose slightly and straddled her legs. He reached for the emeralds and held them up. They glowed intensely in the flickering candlelight. They were so stunning they stole Willow’s breath. She followed the necklace with her eyes as Dariq placed it between her breasts and slowly, oh so slowly, trailed it over her nipples and down her body.

The emeralds felt cold and burning hot at the same time. The feeling was more erotic than anything she had experienced in her entire life. Then he scooted back and drew the emeralds between her legs. She lurched upward as they glided over her sensitive bud.

“Dariq, what are you doing?”

“Giving my slave pleasure.” He stared down at her, where the emeralds rested in her cleft. “They don’t do you justice. You are beautiful down there, all pink and moist and glowing.”

He slid the necklace upward, lingering with loving attention on her stomach and breasts, and then he fastened it around her neck. “I want you wearing naught but emeralds when I make love to you.”

Willow curled her fingers around the necklace. Immediately the stones seemed to glow; her hands tingled and dropped away as if burned. She had no idea what was happening, except that her body suddenly felt alive and very very, needy.

A worried frown creased her brow when Dariq reached for the brandy bottle. “You are already drunk—why do you need more?”

His silver eyes sparkled with mischief. Then, to Willow’s utter shock, he upended the bottle and dribbled brandy across her breasts. The tips of her nipples tautened instantly. The erotic sensation had scarcely registered before Dariq provided another. He began lapping up the brandy with his tongue, going over and around each breast and between them, carefully avoiding her tender nipples.

Willow arched upward, offering more of herself and demanding more of him. He was a devil. He knew he was tormenting her, playing her body like a fine instrument, stealing her will to resist. And, curse him, it was working.

Then he gave her what she wanted. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he took a brandy-drenched nipple into his mouth and sucked … hard. When he raised his head, both nipples were throbbing and elongated.

Willow watched with bated breath as he reached for the bottle again and dribbled brandy down her torso, stopping just short of her mound. This time when he lowered his head, she knew what to expect. His tongue felt like velvet, only rougher, as he licked down her body.

“Brandy never tasted so good,” he murmured as he sipped delicately from her navel and rimmed it with his tongue.

His mouth burned a fiery trail over her skin as he lapped up every drop of brandy from her breasts and stomach. When he reached for the bottle again, Willow cried, “Dariq, no!”

She might as well have been talking to the wall for all the attention he paid her. He was too intent on dribbling brandy on more intimate parts of her body. She felt her tender folds swelling, throbbing, and then his mouth was there, easing her torment while creating another. His tongue lapped and probed and thrust, until she hovered on the brink of madness. Dariq must have known when that moment arrived, for he scooted up her body and thrust his sex deep, embedding himself to the hilt.

He was so ready he could have climaxed immediately, but he clenched his teeth and persevered. Satisfying a woman had always been a large part of his pleasure, and it was even more important with Willow.

He flexed his hips and began to move, slowly, penetrating deeply, bringing tiny moans from her sweet lips. He kissed her, savoring her taste, moving his tongue in and out, duplicating the movement of his cock inside her. She was hot and tight and sweeter than anything he had ever known … or would ever know again.

Abruptly he reversed their positions, bringing her on top of him, forcing a deeper penetration. His hands were
free now to stroke her buttocks and caress her breasts.

His breathing became harsh, grating, as his hips jerked harder, faster. Then he eased a hand between their bodies and touched the dewy pearl between her legs. Willow screamed. Dariq thrust one last time, hurtling them both over the edge.