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The Pirate Prince Page 12


  Mustafa’s dark brows knitted. “What would that be, master?”

  Dariq poured himself a tumbler of water from a pitcher and drank thirstily. “Sending Willow to Ibrahim is still possible. I cannot replace her maidenhead, but there are ways to simulate innocence. I’m sure Baba could teach her about such things.”

  He began to pace again. “The problem, Mustafa, is that I cannot bear to part with Willow. She pleases me beyond understanding. The thought of Ibrahim abusing her is repugnant to me.”

  Mustafa groaned and rolled his eyes. “You are thinking with your cock, my lord. You still have Safiye. You adore Safiye.”

  “I adore what she does for me, but I have no feelings beyond mild affection for her. I am a sexual creature, Mustafa, but I am also a discerning one. I know when a woman pleases me beyond mere physical satisfaction.”

  “Do you mean that Lady Willow is the woman you need to make you happy?”

  Dariq scoffed. “I do not need a woman to make me happy, merely one to satisfy my sexual needs. Raiding Ibrahim’s ships makes me happy.” He shook his head. “I truly do not know what to do, Mustafa, aside from wanting to keep Willow for myself. But I cannot.” A horrifying thought occurred to him. “What if she conceived my child tonight? For the first time in my life, I cannot trust myself with a woman. What does that say about me?”

  “It says, Prince Dariq, that you are a man with a divided heart. Worry not, ’tis unlikely the lady conceived tonight, but if she did, Baba knows how to rid her of your unwanted seed. I will see that it is taken care of.”

  “Nay! I do not want Willow harmed.”

  “You are besotted.”

  Dariq made an impatient gesture. “You know not what you talk about, my friend. I have no heart. I satisfy my sexual urges where and with whom I please; women mean naught to me but a moment’s pleasure.”

  Mustafa sent him a skeptical look.

  “I refuse to succumb to weakness of the flesh,” Dariq declared. A determined look hardened his features. “I know what I must do, Mustafa. Despite her lack of maidenhead, Willow is my only hope of saving Mother. My plans for Willow will follow their original course.”

  “Is that your final word, my lord?”

  “Aye, Mustafa.” His voice thickened with resolve. “I will not seek Willow’s company while my willpower to resist her is so low. I suspect my desire for her will wane if I keep my distance. Instruct Baba to watch for Willow’s courses. I will decide what to do should she quicken with my child.”

  He turned away, but his thoughts were still with Willow. Out of sight, out of mind doesn’t always work, a little voice in his head whispered. Could he banish Willow from his mind? He had to, for his mother’s sake. No matter his personal feelings for her, Willow was destined to become Ibrahim’s concubine.

  Despite the late hour, Safiye accosted Willow the moment she returned from Dariq’s chamber, verbally venting her venom. “He bedded you!” she accused. “Do not deny it.”

  “I am in no mood to argue with you,” Willow replied tiredly. She wanted to be alone. She was exhausted and in need of a bath.

  “You reek of sex,” Safiye blasted as she followed Willow to her chamber.

  Willow blocked her entrance. “Go to bed, Safiye, ’tis late.”

  Safiye’s scathing gaze fell on the bundle of clothing in Willow’s arms. She gave a bitter laugh. “I knew it! You did not please him. He sent you from his bed in disgrace.”

  Willow had heard enough. Safiye’s taunts were more than she could bear. She wanted to be alone to think. “Ali Hara!” she shouted, and then waited for the ebony giant to appear.

  He arrived moments later, naked to the waist, his feet bare. “What is it, my lady? Are you hurt? Is there aught you desire?”

  “Aye, Ali Hara. I desire Safiye to leave my chamber. I grow tired of her insults.”

  The eunuch sent Safiye a censuring look. “You should be abed, lady. Come, I will escort you to your chamber.”

  Safiye gave Willow a scathing glance and flounced off. “I will sleep outside Safiye’s door to make sure she does not return, my lady,” Ali Hara whispered.

  Willow heaved an enormous sigh as she closed the door behind Safiye and Ali Hara. She looked longingly at the bed, but as much as she wanted to give in to exhaustion she knew Safiye was right. She did reek of sex. She could smell Dariq’s seed on her. She opened her door once again and peered out. The harem was silent. Quietly she made her way to the hammam. She needed to be alone to think about everything that had happened tonight and the ultimate consequences.

  The halls were deserted and the hammam dark but for a single wall sconce, creating disturbing patterns of light and dark. Ignoring the grotesque display dancing upon the walls, Willow drew off her caftan and lowered herself into the sunken tub.

  A blissful sigh escaped her throat as she sank down into the warm water. She closed her eyes, letting the warmth soothe away her troubles. What had happened between her and Dariq tonight had caused more problems for her. Did Dariq blame her for his loss of control? She thought he did. And in a way, she was responsible.

  She had stopped resisting Dariq, mistakenly believing that her loss of virginity would foil his plans to give her to Ibrahim. She’d assumed that once she had been defiled, Dariq would return her to her father… perhaps for ransom. But her assumptions had been wrong.

  Willow saw the pot of soap lying on the rim of the tub and scooped out a handful, using it to scrub Dariq’s scent from her. Only then did she feel fresh and clean again. Unfortunately, nothing could restore her virginity. Even if Dariq returned her to her father, she was ruined for marriage to anyone else. She would be ruined even if Dariq hadn’t corrupted her. The scandal would scare off prospective suitors despite her generous portion.

  Gossip would travel to France and beyond, so it would make no difference if she decided to live in her mother’s country. Scandal would follow her wherever she went.

  A terrifying thought abruptly occurred to her. What if she had conceived Dariq’s child? She wasn’t ignorant. She knew that one time was all it took to catch a babe. Would Dariq still send her to Ibrahim if she carried his child?

  Would he sacrifice his own child to save his mother?

  Willow stepped out of the tub and reached for a drying cloth, depression weighing heavily on her. A dismal future lay before her no matter where fate led her.

  Sleep eluded Dariq. Willow’s fate was in his hands, and he didn’t know what to do. Bedding Willow hadn’t been a smart move, but he had been desperate to have her. Never had his self-control been so thoroughly compromised. His moment of uncontrollable lust was likely to have dire consequences, and he had no idea now how to rectify it.

  Should he go ahead with his original plans to exchange Willow for his mother? Would Ibrahim punish Willow for her lack of virginity? Or should he abandon that plan for another? He had sneaked into Istanbul before; perhaps he could attempt it again, this time to spirit his mother out of Ibrahim’s harem. He had a wonderful ally in Kamel, but his brother’s janizaries would be difficult to elude, especially inside the seraglio.

  An untamed urge to have Willow again clawed at Dariq’s innards, torturing him to the point that he wanted to burst into the harem and carry her back to his chamber. His loins throbbed, and he rolled over on his stomach, fighting his need for a blond houri who tempted him beyond redemption.

  Bedding Willow had been a mistake, but a powerful hunger for her had created a temporary madness in him. He should be content after satisfying his lust, but he wasn’t. The sad fact remained that one time with Willow would never be enough.

  Perhaps he should summon Safiye, Dariq thought. The dark-haired beauty had the expertise and stamina to exhaust his body until it accepted sleep.

  He didn’t want Safiye.

  By Allah’s beard! What had Willow done to him? All he could think about was her soft white skin, the fragrance of her hair, and the silken tightness of her feminine sheath as he drove them both to climax.
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  Aye, he was mad. There was no other explanation.

  The following two weeks passed with boring similarity. Willow hadn’t seen Dariq since the night he had taken her virginity. Though she found it difficult to explain, she missed him. She was ably served by both Baba and Ali Hara, but they hardly provided the stimulating conversation she enjoyed with Dariq. Safiye had kept her distance. The concubine seemed to come and go at will, often leaving the harem without permission. There seemed to be no rules where Safiye was concerned. Where she went on her outings, Willow had no idea.

  One day Willow was in the hammam enjoying a bath when she sensed someone watching her. She called Baba, but the old woman must not have heard her, for she didn’t answer the summons. She remembered the peephole and turned her head toward the latticework behind which Dariq had once watched her bathe.

  “Dariq, is that you? Are you spying on me?”

  Willow saw a shadow move behind the lattice, and then it was gone, and with it the feeling that she was being spied upon.

  Later that day, Willow was sitting on a bench in the small garden, bored and restless. She would surely perish if she had to spend the rest of her days imprisoned by walls. It was time to flee, despite the fact that scant opportunity existed for a successful escape.

  Willow stifled a groan when Safiye entered the garden and glided languidly toward her. Safiye was the last person Willow wanted to talk to. She suspected that the other women had been occupying Dariq’s bed these past two weeks, and the thought didn’t please her.

  “You look unhappy,” Safiye said as she fluttered down beside Willow, “while I am deliriously happy.” She stifled a yawn. “Prince Dariq summoned me to his bed last night. He is a tireless lover, but you already know that.”

  “I am thrilled for you,” Willow muttered sourly. “I am not here by choice, or to serve Prince Dariq’s needs.” She started to rise.

  “No, do not go,” Safiye said. “If you wish to leave, perhaps I can help you.”

  Willow settled down again beside Safiye. “How can you help me?”

  “Unlike you, I am not confined to the harem. I have few restrictions, except that I must wear a caftan and veil when I go abroad.”

  “Where do you go?”

  “The pirates and their women live in Pirate Town, a small village hugging the docks. The women sell trinkets and such in the marketplace—items they no longer want or need. I sometimes visit the souk to look over their wares. Everyone knows I belong to their prince, and no one harms me.”

  “Does Dariq know you leave the harem?”

  “The prince knows and approves. This is Lipsi, not Istanbul, and he is quite lenient where I am concerned. Sometimes Ali Hara accompanies me, and sometimes I go alone.”

  Willow’s fine brows knitted. “How does that help me? Dariq would never allow me to leave the harem, not for any reason.”

  “Sometimes I visit Lipsi Town, a small Greek village where most of the islanders live. I am friendly with the inhabitants. Perhaps I can hire someone with a sturdy boat to take you to the Greek mainland. You could book passage to England from there.”

  Hope stirred in Willow’s breast. “But I have no money or valuables.”

  “I will give you money. Prince Dariq is a generous lover. He gives me jewels and coin from his own portion of the booty taken from Turkish ships.” She shrugged. “Since I have little use for coin, you are welcome to it.”

  Safiye’s offer sounded too good to be true. Why would Dariq’s concubine help her?

  “Why should I trust you?”

  Safiye sent her an exasperated look. “Think you I want you here? My master is obsessed with you. I would do anything to make you disappear from his life.”

  “How soon can you make arrangements for my departure?”

  Safiye’s smile was genuine. “It will not take long. When you leave here, you will be wearing my caftan and veil. Everyone will think I am out on one of my jaunts.”

  “What about Ali Hara? Won’t he be suspicious?”

  “I often go out and about alone. The island is small, with few inhabitants. Prince Dariq’s harem is not a prison.”

  Willow scoffed. “To me it is.”

  “Your situation is different. The prince keeps you under guard for a reason.”

  “Won’t Dariq be angry with you for helping me flee?”

  Safiye shrugged. “I will deny any knowledge of your escape. You could have discovered the garden gate on your own, stolen money from me and bought your own passage to Greece. Anything is possible for a resourceful woman.”

  “There’s a garden gate?” Willow asked, scanning the high walls surrounding the garden for the gateway to freedom. “Point it out to me.”

  “I will show you, but not yet. You will fail if you attempt to leave before the arrangements are all in place. You cannot do this on your own, lady; you will be caught and returned, which neither of us wants.”

  “Very well, but please hurry. I shall need clothes, too. I cannot go about in public in harem clothing.”

  “Agreed,” Safiye said. “I will purchase a Greek peasant costume for you in the souk.”

  After Safiye left, Willow remained behind, contemplating the fish swimming in the small pond. For the first time in ages, she felt hope. She didn’t trust Safiye, but she trusted the woman’s jealousy. Safiye wanted her gone as badly as she wanted to leave.

  Willow recalled the garden gate Safiye had mentioned and decided to investigate on her own, just in case something should go wrong with Safiye’s plans. Pretending to study the plants as she strolled amid the foliage, Willow casually inspected the three walls surrounding the garden. At first she saw nothing to indicate a gate. On her second pass around the perimeter of the garden, she pushed aside dense shrubbery and found what she was looking for: an ivy-covered gate that blended with the surrounding greenery. Had she not been looking for it, she would never have noticed it. She tried the handle and was surprised when the door gave. But she didn’t push it open. Being of a practical mind, she decided to wait for Safiye to pave the way for her. With no money or proper clothing, she wouldn’t get very far. And her blond hair would surely arouse suspicion.

  The next few days were pure agony for Willow. Anticipation made her restless and irritable. When Dariq appeared in the harem, Willow was certain Safiye’s plan had gone awry. She was alone in the garden when he sought her out. It was the first time she had seen him since that fateful night in his chamber.

  “Baba told me I would find you out here,” Dariq said.

  “It’s peaceful in the garden,” Willow replied without looking at him. She didn’t want him to see how powerfully his presence affected her; just being near him made her skin tingle and her blood heat.

  “I am glad you’ve found a place you could enjoy.”

  She looked at him then. “Why are you here?”

  Why, indeed? Dariq wondered. He couldn’t tell her he missed her, that he hadn’t bedded Safiye after their night together because he couldn’t bear the thought of another woman in his arms. Nor could he admit that he hungered for the sight of her. Baba had told him her courses had arrived, so he had no worry on that score.

  “I wanted to check on your welfare. You are important to me, Willow. Ali Hara tells me you are unhappy.”

  “I have naught to be happy about. You still intend to trade me to Ibrahim, do you not? Or have you come to tell me you are making plans to take me home?”

  “I cannot take you home. Plans for the exchange are already in progress; I cannot stop them now. If Ibrahim thought I was lying about holding you hostage, he would kill my mother.”

  “So there is no hope for me.”

  She stiffened when he grasped her shoulders and pulled her close. “Even if negotiations with Ibrahim should fail, I would not let you go.”

  His voice was low and harsh and his expression fierce; he looked and sounded as if parting with her would bring him pain. But that was ridiculous. She was merely a pawn in his games with his
brother.

  “I still want you, Willow,” Dariq admitted. “You would be in my bed every night if I could claim you for myself.”

  “I thought Safiye was satisfying your needs.”

  Dariq’s brow furrowed. “I haven’t… she hasn’t…” His sentence fell off.

  Willow searched his face. His denial sounded false, but why would he lie? She meant naught to him.

  Reaching out, he tipped up her face, his lips hovering over hers. She stared into his eyes and saw something she hadn’t expected to see. Regret? Sadness? She had scant time to analyze his expression as he brushed her mouth with soft kisses, and then played more seductively, his mouth rough and tender at the same time.

  His kisses held a note of desperation as his arms tightened around her, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders. To her consternation, Dariq seated himself on the bench and dragged her onto his lap. Their mouths were still fused, but his hands had left her shoulders and were now fondling her breasts beneath her brief vest.

  Lost in his kiss, Willow felt his erection pulse hard and hot against her bottom. This was as close to ecstasy as she could get without actually having Dariq inside her. And, God help her, she did want him inside her. He had already ruined her, so he might as well repeat the act and satisfy them both. Once she left here, she would never see the arrogant pirate again, and good riddance to him, she thought. But deep in her heart she knew she was lying to herself. She would miss Dariq even though he didn’t care for her.

  Excitement raced through her when she felt him push her skirts up, felt his hands on her thighs, lifting her upon his—

  “Prince Dariq!”

  Dariq groaned. Leave it to Safiye to appear at the wrong time. He should be grateful to her, for had she not appeared, he would have made love to Willow on the garden bench, and he didn’t need another reminder of his inexplicable obsession with the blond beauty.

  Hastily he straightened his clothing and returned Willow to the bench. Once he regained his composure, he stood and greeted Safiye.