The Pirate Prince Read online

  ROMANTIC TIMES RAVES

  ABOUT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING

  AUTHOR CONNIE MASON!

  THE LAST ROGUE

  “A delight… This is a must-read for Mason fans.”

  SEDUCED BY A ROGUE

  “Another wonderful story filled with adventure, witty repartee and hot sex.”

  THE ROGUE AND THE HELLION

  “Ms. Mason has written another winner to delight her fans who want sexual tension that leads to hot explosion, memorable characters and a fast-paced story.”

  THE LAIRD OF STONEHAVEN

  “[Ms. Mason] crafts with excellence and creativity…[and] the added attraction of mystery and magic. [The reader will] enjoy the facets of the supernatural that permeate this wonderful love story.”

  LIONHEART

  “…upholds the author’s reputation for creating memorable stories and remarkable characters.”

  THE DRAGON LORD

  “This is a real keeper, filled with historical fact, sizzling love scenes and wonderful characters.”

  THE OUTLAWS: SAM

  “Ms. Mason always provides the reader with a hot romance, filled with plot twists and wonderful characters. She’s a marvelous storyteller.”

  THE OUTLAWS: JESS

  “Jess is filled with adventure and passion. Ms. Mason delivers.”

  THE OUTLAWS: RAFE

  “Ms. Mason begins this new trilogy with wonderful characters…steamy romance…excellent dialogue…[and an] exciting plot!”

  MORE ROMANTIC TIMES

  PRAISE FOR CONNIE MASON!

  THE BLACK KNIGHT

  “Ms. Mason has written a rich medieval romance filled with tournaments, chivalry, lust and love.”

  GUNSLINGER

  “Ms. Mason has created memorable characters and a plot that made this reader rush to turn the pages…. Gunslinger is an enduring story.”

  PIRATE

  “Ms. Mason has written interesting characters into a twisting plot filled with humor and pathos.”

  BEYOND THE HORIZON

  “Connie Mason at her best! She draws readers into this fast-paced, tender and emotional historical romance that proves love really does conquer all!”

  BRAVE LAND, BRAVE LOVE

  “An utter delight from first page to last—funny, tender, adventurous and highly romantic!”

  WILD LAND, WILD LOVE

  “Connie Mason has done it again!”

  BOLD LAND, BOLD LOVE

  “A lovely romance and a fine historical!”

  VIKING!

  “This captive/captor romance proves a delicious read.”

  TEMPT THE DEVIL

  “A grand and glorious adventure-romp! Ms. Mason tempts the readers with…thrilling action and sizzling sensuality!”

  CAPTIVE DESIRE

  Dariq lurched from the bed and glared down at her, stunned by his loss of control. The woman was dangerous. The sooner he placed her in Ibrahim’s keeping the better.

  “That will not happen again, lady. You will cease using your wiles on me.”

  Willow rolled to her feet. “You are mad if you think I wanted you to…to attack me. All I want from you is my freedom.”

  “What you ask is impossible.” So saying, Dariq turned and strode from the cabin.

  Willow sank down upon the bed, shaking from her horrified reaction to Dariq’s words. She would never resign herself to becoming a sex slave to a heathen Turk.

  She touched her lips. They felt swollen; so did her breast where Dariq had touched it. The pirate was the devil incarnate, and far too handsome for her peace of mind.

  THE LAST ROGUE

  THE LAIRD OF STONEHAVEN

  TO LOVE A STRANGER

  SEDUCED BY A ROGUE

  TO TAME A RENEGADE

  LIONHEART

  A LOVE TO CHERISH

  THE ROGUE AND THE HELLION

  THE DRAGON LORD

  THE OUTLAWS: SAM

  THE OUTLAWS: JESS

  THE OUTLAWS: RAFE

  THE BLACK KNIGHT

  GUNSLINGER

  BEYOND THE HORIZON

  PIRATE

  BRAVE LAND, BRAVE LOVE

  WILD LAND, WILD LOVE

  BOLD LAND, BOLD LOVE

  VIKING!

  SURRENDER TO THE FURY

  FOR HONOR’S SAKE

  LORD OF THE NIGHT

  TEMPT THE DEVIL

  PROMISE ME FOREVER

  SHEIK

  ICE & RAPTURE

  LOVE ME WITH FURY

  SHADOW WALKER

  FLAME

  TENDER FURY

  DESERT ECSTASY

  A PROMISE OF THUNDER

  PURE TEMPTATION

  WIND RIDER

  TEARS LIKE RAIN

  THE LION’S BRIDE

  SIERRA

  TREASURES OF THE HEART

  CARESS & CONQUER

  PROMISED SPLENDOR

  WILD IS MY HEART

  MY LADY VIXEN

  The Pirate Prince

  Connie Mason

  Copyright © 2004, 2013 by Connie Mason

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Istanbul, Turkey, 1562

  Death stalked the marble halls of Sultan Ibrahim’s seraglio.

  Prince Dariq, second son of Murad, the recently deceased ruler of the Ottoman Empire, slept peacefully beside his concubine, his body sated and his mind at ease. Since his plush chambers were far removed from the main part of the palace, the prince remained blissfully unaware of his older brother Ibrahim’s vile scheme to slay his male siblings. Killing all the other male heirs would assure him that no one would be left alive to challenge his claim to the sultanate.

  Suddenly a secret panel leading into Dariq’s private bedchamber slid open; a woman stepped inside. The woman pulled Dariq’s concubine from his arms.

  “Go, Fatima,” Saliha Sultana whispered, giving the startled girl a push toward the secret passage. “Return to the harem immediately.”

  Startled awake by the commotion, Prince Dariq rose up on his elbow. When he saw his mother urging his concubine into the secret passage, he knew mischief was afoot. His mother rarely left the harem and never entered his chambers in the dead of night.

  “Hurry, my son,” Saliha urged. “Get dressed. You must leave immediately. Ibrahim has slain his brothers. Even as we speak janizaries loyal to Ibrahim are on their way here to murder you.”

  Horror darkened Dariq’s gray eyes. “My brothers are dead? All of them?”

  “Aye, my son, even young Alkbar is gone.”

  Dariq pulled on baggy trousers and shirt, stomped his feet into boots and reached for his scimitar. “I will avenge their deaths, Mother.”

  “Do not be foolish, Dariq,” Saliha Sultana chided. “You will be cut down the moment you leave your chambers. You must flee. I know your ship is due to sail soon. Flee to the harbor and sail far away, where Ibrahim cannot find you.”

  Even as Saliha spoke, Dariq heard footsteps echoing through the deserted hallways. They were coming for him.<
br />
  “Here,” Saliha said, offering Dariq a heavy cloth bag. “Take this. Inside are the gold and precious gems your father gave me while he was alive. I cannot bear that you should go away with nothing.”

  “I cannot take them, Mother. They are yours.”

  “I have no further use for them, son.”

  The door opened. Dariq grasped his scimitar, prepared to kill as many of Ibrahim’s janizaries as he could before he himself was slain. Mustafa, the captain of Dariq’s personal guard, a giant of a man with eyes as black as his flowing beard, entered the chamber.

  “Your loyal guardsmen are stationed outside the door, Prince,” Mustafa reported. “We will hold off the janizaries while you make good your escape.”

  Saliha thrust the cloth bag of valuables into Dariq’s hands. “Leave nothing of value behind,” she advised, casting a glance around the elegantly appointed bedchamber.

  Moving swiftly, she gathered up gold plate and silver, gem-encrusted bowls, and anything else of value she saw, and dropped them into a satin pillowcase. She thrust the pillowcase into Dariq’s hands and pushed him toward a door opening onto a narrow balcony.

  “You can escape over the rooftops and through the alleys to the harbor. Go with God, my son.”

  Dariq’s handsome features settled into stubborn lines. “I am not leaving without you, Mother.”

  Saliha Sultana sent her son a stern look. “You will do as I say. I do not fear Ibrahim. He needs me to keep peace in the harem. Even as we speak, your father’s concubines are mourning their slain sons. I must stay with them.”

  “Nay, Mother, you must come—”

  “Listen to your mother,” Mustafa interrupted. “Kamel will see that no harm comes to her. He is the most powerful eunuch within the seraglio. He has the ear of Selim Pasha, the Grand Vizier. Trust him to keep Lady Saliha safe. You must live to avenge your slain brothers.”

  The thunder of footsteps and jangle of weapons grew louder, louder even than the heartrending cries drifting through the seraglio from the harem as mothers mourned their children. “How many men are still loyal to me?” Dariq asked.

  “Of your twelve personal guardsmen, none has deserted you,” Mustafa said. “They will hold off the janizaries as long as they can. Their lives are naught compared to yours, my prince.”

  “Nay!” Dariq cried. “No more deaths. Summon them inside. I wish to speak to them.”

  “Dariq, please,” Saliha begged. “There is no time.”

  Mustafa opened the door and motioned for the armed guardsmen to enter the crowded bedchamber.

  “You have proven your loyalty to me,” Dariq began, “but I do not want you to lose your lives on my behalf. Flee while there is still time.”

  Saliha Sultana knew by the determined look on Dariq’s face that he intended to fight Ibrahim’s janizaries alone. She knew her son well. To his way of thinking, running was the coward’s choice. She glanced at Mustafa and knew by his expression that he had come to the same conclusion. A slight nod of Saliha’s head was all Mustafa needed to act.

  Dariq was still urging his guardsmen to flee when Mustafa raised his scimitar and brought the handle down on Dariq’s head. Mustafa caught him before he fell and hoisted his prince over his massive shoulder.

  “Hurry,” Saliha urged. “Take my son, and as many guardsmen as are willing to join him in exile, to his ship. I trust you to protect him, Mustafa.”

  “Aye, my lady. Fear not, I will keep Prince Dariq safe.”

  To a man, Dariq’s guardsmen agreed to accompany him wherever he might lead, even to the ends of the earth.

  A loud banging sounded on the door. “They are here, Mustafa,” Saliha Sultana hissed. “Kamel’s cousin Hassan is a carpet seller. He has a stall in the souk. Tell Dariq to contact Hassan whenever he is able. He will pass your message on to Kamel and Kamel will tell me.”

  With a sob, she tore herself away and slipped into the secret passage, closing the panel behind her.

  “Lock and barricade the door,” Mustafa ordered as he stepped onto the balcony and leaped over to an adjacent roof with an unconscious Dariq slung over one broad shoulder, “and bring the pillowcase.” One guardsman snatched up the pillowcase stuffed with valuables while another barricaded the door; then they all followed Mustafa over the rooftops.

  Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, Mustafa and the guardsmen made their way to the high wall surrounding the seraglio. One by one each man slid down a tiled roof overhanging the wall and jumped the few feet to the ground. Mustafa handed Dariq down to a man on the ground before leaping himself and once again taking Dariq over his shoulder. The janizaries were not far behind; their shouts spurred Dariq’s men on as they sprinted toward the harbor.

  Unerringly Mustafa led them through the city and into the maze of alleyways stretching through the souk. But they weren’t safe yet. Judging from the noise of crashing stalls, loud shouting, and pounding footsteps, the entire Turkish army was hard on their heels. As long as Dariq lived, he would always present a threat to the sultanate. Nothing short of Dariq’s death would satisfy Ibrahim.

  As they raced through the sleeping city, Dariq struggled back to consciousness. “Put me down!” he roared.

  Mustafa set him on his feet.

  “What have you done?”

  “Saved your life, master. We must hurry; the janizaries are not far behind.”

  Realizing that he had no choice now but to flee, Dariq led his loyal followers to the docks. His ship, Sultana, was due to sail with the midnight tide. Dariq had no idea whether the midnight hour had come and gone, so he prayed that his ship had not yet left. Without the Sultana, he and his men would never live to see the light of day.

  When they reached the docks, Dariq let out a shout of joy. The Sultana was still docked, though frantic preparations were under way for imminent departure. Dariq made a dash for the long stone pier as the gangplank was being raised. He shouted until someone aboard the ship heard him. He ordered the gangplank to be lowered. Nothing happened until the captain appeared at the railing.

  “Who is there?” the captain asked in a booming voice.

  “Prince Dariq. Lower the gangplank. My men and I wish to come aboard. And hurry. My brother’s janizaries are hard on our heels.”

  The gangplank was lowered immediately; Dariq and his men scrambled aboard. “Pull up the gangplank! Quickly,” Dariq ordered.

  The anchor was raised, and the sails filled with wind as the janizaries charged down the pier. Dariq took the wheel, easing the Sultana away from the pier and into the Sea of Marmara. Beyond the Bosporos Straits and the Aegean Sea, a new life awaited him.

  Chapter One

  Two Years Later—Somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea

  His legs balanced against the motion of the ship, Prince Dariq stood on the deck of his frigate, renamed the Revenge after his escape from Istanbul, staring at the endless blue sea stretched out before him. Mustafa, his right-hand man and first mate, stood at his side.

  The weather was perfect; a brisk breeze filled the sails, sending the Revenge scudding across the water. The frigate extended two decks high and was well equipped with forty cannon, employed for a good cause.

  The ship rode high in the water, hunting prey and riches to fill her hold. Turkish ships were particularly vulnerable to Dariq’s Brotherhood of pirates.

  Though Dariq had fled Istanbul to escape certain death, he had managed to slip in and out of the city several times during the past two years to contact friends loyal to him. He had risked his life more than once to inquire about his mother’s welfare and to learn what Ibrahim was up to, but he had also used his clandestine trips into Istanbul to bring his men’s loved ones out of the city to their stronghold on the island of Lipsi, forty miles off the southern coast of Turkey.

  “Perhaps the Ottoman never left Algiers,” Mustafa suggested. “We have seen no sign of the ship since learning that a treasure of great value was being transported to Istanbul aboard it. Perhaps your information was fals
e.”

  “Nay,” Dariq said. “Kamel has never given his cousin Hassan wrong information. The ship will follow the same course as all Ibrahim’s ships sailing from Algeria. We will find it, and when we do, we will steal Ibrahim’s treasure.” He thrust his fist in the air to emphasize his words. “By Allah, Ibrahim will not have it!”

  Dariq’s nostrils flared. He looked like a demon bent on mayhem. Thick black hair, tousled into curls by the damp sea air, fell over his forehead. His jutting jaw was strong and dark with the beginning of a beard, and every visible muscle in his face and neck was pulled taut. His tense body and well-developed form were hardened by hard labor. Nothing about Prince Dariq looked soft.

  Dariq wasn’t the same man he had been two years before. The murder of his brothers had turned him into a vengeful man with dark depths, a man on a mission to avenge those cruel deaths. A man who refused to rest until his innocent brothers had been avenged and Ibrahim made to suffer.

  “Hassan said the treasure Ibrahim expects is extremely valuable,” Mustafa mused.

  Dariq nodded. “Valuable enough, I hope, for its loss to annoy Ibrahim. Unfortunately, Hassan could tell me nothing more about the treasure, for Kamel hadn’t enlightened him. I had to leave the city before receiving detailed information from Kamel; there were janizaries everywhere. Hassan said that Ibrahim is aware that I enter the city incognito and wants to put an end to it.” He laughed—a bitter sound that held a world of hatred. “Ibrahim fears me, and with good reason.”

  “The men are eager for a good fight, Prince,” Mustafa said, gesturing to the motley crew of pirates who had followed Dariq from Istanbul into the Brotherhood.

  “So am I,” Dariq replied. “We fight now to survive, to rob Ibrahim of his riches, and to protect our loved ones.”

  “They would gladly die for you, Prince. You brought their wives and families to Lipsi and created a safe haven for them.”

  “They followed me into exile when all seemed lost,” Dariq replied. “ ’Twas the least I could do.”

  Dariq tensed as an expression of watchful anticipation slid over his handsome features. “Hand me the glass, Mustafa.”

  Mustafa placed the spyglass in Dariq’s hand. Dariq held it to his eye, adjusting it until an object came into view.