The Pirate Prince Page 14

  He handed the spyglass to Mustafa, peeled off his shirt, kicked off his boots and dove into the water. When Willow began drifting away from him and then went under, he swam with sure, steady strokes toward the place where he had last seen her. He saw her head bob to the surface again and then disappear. The fear that she might drown sent adrenaline surging through him. Sucking in a lungful of air, he plunged beneath the choppy surface, down … down … down…

  Dariq saw naught but fish and murky water. He swam around until his breath was gone, then spiraled upward, sucked in another deep breath and dove down again. Giving up wasn’t an option. Then he saw her. She was drifting toward him, her blond hair floating eerily about her face and shoulders. Grasping a long lock of hair and wrapping it around his hand, he dragged her up… up … up…

  They broke the surface together. Gasping for air, he slowly towed her toward the skiff. Mustafa stood by to pull her in. Once Willow was safely aboard, Dariq heaved himself out of the water and into the skiff.

  “Is she breathing?” Dariq asked from between chattering teeth.

  “Nay, Prince.”

  Dariq knelt over her, more frightened than he had ever been in his life. He would not let her die. She didn’t deserve to die. She was an innocent pawn in his game with Ibrahim.

  “Press the water from her lungs,” Mustafa urged. “Then breathe life into her. I saw it done once. Open her mouth and give her your breath.”

  Desperate, Dariq did as Mustafa suggested. First he turned Willow onto her stomach and gently pressed his palms to her back several times until water spewed from her mouth. Then he turned her over, lifted her head and breathed into her mouth.

  A tiny gasp. A subtle breath, and then another, and yet another, until her chest rose and fell in regular intervals and she began taking shallow breaths on her own. But she was so pale and still that Dariq feared for her life.

  “We must get her back to the seraglio,” Dariq said. He wrapped his dry shirt around her and pulled her into his arms in order to share what little body warmth he had left after his frigid dip into the sea.

  Mustafa turned the skiff about and steered toward the harbor. They rounded the beachhead, reaching the pier below Pirate Town soon afterward.

  Dariq paid little heed to the curious onlookers as Mustafa tied the skiff to the pier. The moment it was secured, he leapt ashore with Willow in his arms and ran all the way to the seraglio, watching every tortured breath that wheezed from her lungs. If she died, he’d banish Safiye to the darkest corner of hell.

  Dariq sprinted into the seraglio with Willow in his arms and Mustafa close on his heels. He carried her directly to his chamber.

  “Fetch Baba!” he shouted to Mustafa over his shoulder. The big Turk hurried off to do his master’s bidding.

  A servant opened the door to his chamber and Dariq pushed past him. Willow was shivering so hard, her whole body shook. With an efficiency of motion, he stripped off her wet clothing, pulled back the covers and tucked her into bed. Moments later, Baba rushed into the chamber, her expression grim when she saw Willow’s white face. A manservant entered behind her, carrying a small casket.

  “What happened to her?” the old woman asked.

  “I pulled her out of the sea,” Dariq explained.

  Baba’s rheumy eyes widened. “Ali Hara said Safiye was responsible for Lady Willow leaving the harem.”

  Dariq’s expression turned hard. “Safiye said she was merely helping Willow leave, but I fear her intentions were evil. Can you help Willow?”

  “Move aside, my lord,” Baba said, pushing Dariq away from the bed. The manservant placed the casket on the side table and departed, but Dariq hovered over Baba as she examined Willow.

  Baba thumped Willow’s chest, then turned her over and did the same to her back.

  “She has no water in her lungs,” Baba announced in a cautiously optimistic voice.

  “I pressed it out. Mustafa had seen it done before and explained the process to me. I’m more worried about congestion in her lungs. The water was cold, and I had no blanket to wrap her in after I pulled her out.”

  “I will do what I can, master. I can prepare herbal remedies to relieve the congestion, and others to ward off fever. Light the brazier and then summon Ali Hara. He can assist me.”

  “But—”

  “Go, my lord Prince, I will not let your lady die. This I vow.”

  Reluctantly Dariq left the chamber. He had to trust Baba, for there was no one else.

  He entered the harem, barking for Ali Hara to attend him. The eunuch appeared instantly in answer to his master’s frantic summons.

  “What happened, master? Mustafa told me naught when he came to fetch Baba, except to say that you pulled Lady Willow from the sea. Thank Allah I summoned you in time to save her.”

  “Baba assures me Willow will live. Go to Baba; she needs you to assist her. You will find her in my chamber with Willow. Where is Safiye?”

  “In her chamber, master.”

  Dariq’s rage was simmering out of control as he stormed off to confront Safiye. She had planned the death of an innocent woman and must answer for her treachery.

  Apparently Safiye had been expecting Dariq, for she had arrayed herself for maximum effect upon her sleeping couch, her voluptuous body covered by a minimum of diaphanous clothing. She rose on one elbow and smiled tremulously at Dariq.

  “Forgive me, my lord. I meant no harm.”

  A muscle twitched in Dariq’s jaw. “Which one of your sins do you regret?”

  She blinked. “I am sorry about Lady Willow’s death. She is dead, is she not?”

  Dariq considered Safiye with barely concealed contempt, but losing his temper before extracting the information he sought would defeat his purpose.

  “I pulled her out of the sea,” he confided without giving specifics.

  Safiye sighed. “ ’Tis a sad thing. I trusted the fisherman who offered to take Lady Willow safely to Greece.” She spread her plump arms in blatant invitation. “Let me give you comfort, my lord.” The movement caused her brief vest to rise, exposing well-rounded breasts and coral nipples.

  Dariq was unimpressed. His voice hardened, along with his expression. “The fisherman’s name—I want it.”

  Safiye’s expression went blank. “I do not know his name.”

  “You paid the man to take Willow to Greece, did you not?”

  She swallowed hard. “Aye, I did, but he was naught but a fisherman I met in Lipsi Town. I did not ask his name.” She raised her leg and spread her thighs, affording Dariq a glimpse of her naked mound and the glistening lips of her sex.

  Dariq glanced at her undeniable charms and looked away, uninterested in what she had to offer. He wanted but one thing from her. “You are lying, Safiye. Admit it. You arranged for Willow’s death.”

  Safiye refused to meet his gaze. “Nay, I did not.” She gulped audibly. “What does it matter? The lady is dead and I am alive. You are clever. You will find another way to rescue your mother. Let me give you what Willow cannot.”

  Dariq’s rage exploded. It took considerable restraint to say quietly, “Willow lives. Your scheme did not work. She was alive when I pulled her from the sea. Tell me the name of the fisherman you paid to drown her. We both know Willow wasn’t supposed to reach Greece. A skiff is not sturdy enough to sail great distances on the open sea.”

  Leaping from the couch, Safiye threw herself at Dariq’s feet, hugging his knees and sobbing pitifully. “I did not want Lady Willow’s death, my dear lord. What do I know about sailing vessels? I truly thought she would reach Greece. I trusted the fisherman, ’tis not my fault he did not honor our agreement.”

  “What agreement was that?” Dariq asked with quiet menace.

  “I paid the fisherman a small fortune to take Lady Willow to Greece, and even gave her money to purchase transportation to England.”

  Dariq’s hands fisted at his sides. “I do not believe your lies. You never expected Willow to reach Greece.”
>
  Safiye gazed imploringly at Dariq. “You accuse me falsely, master. I but wanted to help a woman who did not belong here.”

  Grasping her arms, Dariq pulled her to her feet. “Do not lie to me! You feared Willow would supplant you in my affections and wanted her out of the way.”

  Her eyes blazing with untamed fury, Safiye accused, “You were besotted with Willow! Obsessed with her. I admit I was jealous and wanted her gone, but I would not—”

  He shook her hard. “Wouldn’t you? Tell me the fisherman’s name so I can see to his punishment.”

  Safiye shook her head. “I do not know his name. We both preferred it that way.”

  “I cannot believe that a fisherman or anyone else from Lipsi Town would agree to your reprehensible scheme. With or without your help, I will find the man and punish him.”

  Safiye bit her bottom lip, her eyes revealing her terror. “Am I to be punished?”

  Dariq’s edict was temporarily forestalled when Ali Hara rushed into Safiye’s chamber. “Come quickly, master. Lady Willow—”

  Dariq didn’t wait to hear the rest. Turning on his heel, he raced from the chamber. “Guard Safiye well,” he called over his shoulder. “I will deal with her later.”

  Fury drained from Dariq, replaced by sheer terror. Had Willow’s condition worsened? Was she …? Nay, he refused to think along those lines.

  Dariq burst into his chamber and skidded to a halt when he saw Willow sitting up in bed, still pale but alive. “You’re not dead!” he cried. “I imagined the worst when Ali Hara summoned me.”

  “Give me some credit, my lord,” Baba huffed. “Did I not promise you she would live?”

  “Aye, but I feared …” He approached the bed. “Are you truly well, beauty?”

  A shiver passed through Willow. “Aye, thanks to you. Baba said you pressed the water from my lungs.” She shivered again. “The water was so cold, and my clothing dragged me down.” She paused before continuing. “The fisherman tried to kill me, but he wasn’t really a fisherman. He was a Turk.”

  Dariq motioned for Baba to leave the chamber.

  “Are you sure?” Dariq asked once they were alone. “Did you see his face?”

  “I did, but not until he attempted to kill me. He wore a hat with a brim pulled low over his forehead and did not look directly at me. Nor did he speak, until he saw your skiff. Then he drew his knife and came for me. He was a pirate; I’d stake my life on it. He feared your reprisal.”

  “As well he should. How did you end up in the sea? Did he push you overboard?”

  “I did not fancy being stabbed, so I jumped into the water. It seemed the lesser of two evils. I know how to swim, but my clothing dragged me down. Thank God you reached me in time.”

  “Thank Allah and God and all His saints,” Dariq said reverently.

  “I asked Baba to send for you because I needed to tell you something,” Willow said. “The Turk said I was not supposed to reach Greece.”

  She blinked away a tear. “I think Safiye wanted me dead. I am sorry, Dariq.”

  Dariq sat on the edge of the bed. “Don’t be sorry. I should have known Safiye would be jealous and attempt something like this. Are you truly all right?”

  “Baba could find no congestion in my chest, and if I don’t develop a fever, I will recover quickly. She thinks I should stay in bed a day or two, drink hot liquids and rest.”

  “Baba is usually right; listen to her.”

  Willow sighed and snuggled down into the pillows. “I should return to the harem.”

  “Not yet. There’s still Safiye to deal with, but all in good time.” He stroked her forehead, trailing his fingers down her cheek. Their gazes met and locked; for the first time in his life, Dariq knew what heaven looked like.

  Propelled by a desperate need, he lowered his head and kissed her.

  Chapter Ten

  Dariq kissed her with all the passion in his heart, until her mouth relaxed beneath his. When his tongue probed against her lips, they opened to him. Pressing his advantage, he thrust his tongue inside, drinking of her unique taste like a man dying of thirst.

  When he heard her whimper, he drew away and searched her face. “I must be mad to want you like this, but I cannot help myself.”

  Willow stroked his face; Dariq’s body hardened in response. She shivered. “Are you still cold, beauty?”

  She shook her head. How could she be cold with heat rolling off Dariq like a newly stoked fire?

  He bent to kiss her ear, the tip of his tongue exploring the tender whirl of flesh while his teeth worried the plump lobe. Then he pushed the long strands of her hair aside and began to kiss down her throat.

  “Oh! That feels … It makes me …”

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  “No.” Her reply was so soft, it could scarcely be heard.

  He sighed and started to rise. “You’re still weak. I should let you rest.”

  “I… suppose so.” She shivered again.

  He didn’t leave, instead he stripped off his damp clothing and climbed into bed. “You’re cold. Let me warm you.” He brought her into his arms and pressed her against his naked body. Willow gasped, seared by the heat of his flesh. Heaving a sigh, she snuggled close, burrowing into his comforting warmth.

  He stroked her back, up and then down, dragging his fingers along the crease separating her buttocks. Willow trembled, but not from cold. Just when she began to enjoy the soothing warmth and sensation of his talented fingers, Dariq grasped the taut mounds and pulled her hard against his loins. She felt his erection prodding against her stomach and knew she was in danger of succumbing again to his seduction.

  Did she have the strength to resist him?

  Did she want to?

  Obviously not, for she merely sighed when he said, “I want to make love to you, beauty. If you do not want me or feel too weak to respond, tell me now, while I can still stop.”

  “I…” Words failed her. It wasn’t weakness she felt, but desire. She couldn’t deny the heat permeating her body where Dariq touched her, any more than she could deny her body’s response to his touch.

  Accepting her silence for acquiescence, Dariq groaned her name and turned her over on her stomach. Baba must have sponged her body in warm water mixed with the essence of flowers, for she smelled delicious. The intoxicating fragrance sent his pulse racing out of control.

  He pushed the drying mass of her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. He was encouraged when Willow gasped his name. But when he grasped her hand and licked her palm and sucked each of her fingers, she tried to pull her hand away, as if having second thoughts.

  “Dariq, perhaps we shouldn’t. I am not a wanton. Your touch muddles my mind and makes me crave wicked things. I shouldn’t feel like this.”

  “You are wrong, beauty. Physical attraction between man and woman is a natural thing, sanctioned by both your God and mine. Do not fight it. You know how wonderful it can be between us. I want to love you in all the ways a man can love a woman. Before you leave me, I want to introduce you to pleasure so powerful you will yearn for my touch upon your flesh.”

  Before you leave me. Would nothing change his mind? “You still intend to send me to Ibrahim?”

  Sadly he answered, “I have no choice.”

  “But I am no longer virginal. Ibrahim will reject me.”

  “Once he looks upon you, he will want you despite your lack of maidenhead. No man alive could resist you, and I am very much alive. I am a man who takes what he wants, and I want you.”

  Willow couldn’t deny that her body yearned for Dariq’s touch, for his loving. She was no longer an innocent virgin, so what did it matter if he made love to her? She had lived with restrictions all her life, and the wicked promise of Dariq’s loving was too tempting to resist.

  She wasn’t ill, nor did she feel weak; she felt empowered by Dariq’s passion. Naught was wrong with her except the desperate need gnawing at her, driving her to madness.

  Madne
ss, thy name is Dariq.

  Then she lost the ability to think as Dariq licked down her spine in long, leisurely strokes, murmuring love words in Turkish and English, doing deliciously sinful things to her body.

  Willow stifled a cry when he reached the crevice at the bottom of her spine. “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to love you if you will be quiet and let me do what I do best. Open your mind to what I am doing; try to think of naught but the way my hands and mouth feel on your skin.”

  He laved each mound of her buttocks with his tongue, then trailed his mouth down her legs, clear to her toes. He glanced at her once before sucking one pink digit into his mouth and then each one in turn. Willow had never suspected such an outlandish act could be so erotic. Could not even imagine why a man would wish to do such a thing. But Dariq seemed to know no boundaries. Whatever he did made her yearn for more.

  The “more” came when Dariq turned her over and laved her breasts with his tongue and suckled her nipples. She felt her flesh swelling and her nipples puckering as if they had been touched with ice.

  Her breathing accelerated; she was panting heavily, her body tense, waiting for Dariq’s next move.

  He gazed into her eyes. “Your flesh is a drug I cannot get enough of.”

  His words were like an opiate; she wanted to partake of whatever erotic pleasure he offered.

  “Are you still cold?” Dariq asked.

  “I am afire.”

  He grinned. “ ’Tis what I intended.” He caught her hand. “Touch me. I ache for your hands upon my skin.”

  She stretched her hand out to his chest, curling her fingers in the mat of hair she found there. His flesh beneath her hand felt hard and soft at the same time. He let her fingers roam over his torso, and then covered her hand with his own, carrying it downward, curling her fingers around his arousal. She tried to pull away, but he held her hand firmly against him.

  “Explore me, beauty. Feel me.”

  Mindlessly she obeyed, mesmerized by the intoxicating sound of his voice. She couldn’t have disobeyed if her life depended upon it. She remembered how huge he had felt inside her, and was surprised when he grew thicker and harder in her hand than she recalled.