The Pirate Prince Page 2

  “There she is!” Dariq shouted gleefully. “The Ottoman. Bring the Revenge about, Mustafa. We will lay in wait for her.”

  Mustafa took the wheel and brought the ship about. After a shouted order from Dariq, the deck erupted with activity. As the Ottoman approached, the Revenge’s guns were being primed and readied for battle and weapons distributed to eager pirates.

  “She’s using evasive action,” Dariq bit out. “She’ll never outrun us. Pile on the canvas!”

  Wind whipped into the sails, sending the Revenge crashing through the waves at top speed. It didn’t take long for the ship to overtake the slower, clumsier Ottoman.

  Once they were in range, Dariq shouted, “Bring her about and fire a warning shot across the Ottoman’s bow!”

  Dariq’s crewmen responded smoothly, having made similar attacks many times in the past two years. Piracy was their game and they played it well.

  The first volley of shots sailed over the Ottoman’s bow, but she didn’t stop. She tacked to the left, but it soon became apparent that she couldn’t escape. The Revenge was relentless in its pursuit.

  “Fire the port cannons!” Excitement bit deep into Dariq’s gut. The mysterious treasure would never reach Istanbul or Ibrahim if he had his way.

  A volley of shots from the port side snapped the Ottoman’s mizzenmast. Utter chaos reigned aboard the beleaguered ship. Dariq could see crewmen scurrying about to repair the damage done by the Revenge’s guns.

  “Bring her about, Mustafa,” Dariq ordered, “then give the wheel over to Omar. Break out the grappling hooks and ready the boarding planks. I want them in place the moment we come abreast.”

  Mustafa hurried off to do Dariq’s bidding while Dariq continued to watch the drama taking place aboard the Ottoman. He was acquainted with Captain Juad, the master of the Ottoman, and hoped he would surrender his ship and give up the treasure without loss of life.

  The Ottoman made a half-hearted attempt to fire its starboard cannon. The shot went wide, and then the battle was over. The pirates secured the grappling hooks, bringing the two ships together. Dariq was the first to leap atop the boarding plank, feet wide apart and sword at the ready. Mustafa was close behind him, towering over Dariq, while pirates from the Revenge grabbed lines to swing aboard the Ottoman, eager to share in the plunder.

  “Surrender!” Dariq shouted as he jumped down upon the rolling deck of the Ottoman.

  Captain Juad raced across the deck toward him. “I want bloodshed no more than you do, Prince Dariq.”

  None of the Turkish sailors seemed eager to meet the Pirate Prince in armed combat, and Captain Juad was wise enough to realize his crewmen would fight a losing battle against cutthroat pirates, who lived and fought for the promise of riches.

  Dariq watched through narrowed lids as Juad seemed to wage a battle with himself. Dariq knew the captain to be brave and honorable, and that he valued the life of his men, but Dariq wondered if the good captain valued the treasure he carried more than his own life.

  “Do you promise to spare my men?” Juad asked. “I know what it is to have my decks run slippery with blood.”

  “Surrender your ship and your treasure and you may leave with your lives intact.”

  Juad eyed the pirates lined up behind Mustafa with distrust. “Will your men obey you?”

  Dariq threw back his head and laughed. “My pirates always obey me. All they care about is the treasure you carry.”

  Juad’s heavy dark brows shot up. “What do you know about the treasure, Prince Dariq?”

  While appearing to be relaxed, Dariq was drawn taut as a bowstring. “Not a great deal, except that its arrival is eagerly awaited by Ibrahim. He will not have it, however, for I shall claim it.”

  “Come to my cabin,” Juad invited. “We should speak in private about the treasure.”

  “Do you surrender all to me?”

  Juad laughed. “Oh, aye, the treasure is yours, such as it is. I wish you joy of it.”

  Captain Juad snapped out curt orders to his men, informing them that he was surrendering the ship and its treasure to Prince Dariq. Their reaction was not what Dariq had expected. Some men laughed outright, while others sent him sly smiles. Though there were a few grumbles, most seemed relieved to be rid of the sultan’s treasure.

  “Secure the ship,” Dariq told Mustafa. The knot of men parted as Dariq followed the captain to his cabin. Some of the Ottoman’s sailors clapped him on the back, while others wished him good luck. A few even asked to join the Brotherhood.

  “Down with Ibrahim the murderer!” a Turkish sailor shouted, followed by a chorus of ayes.

  Dariq entered the captain’s cabin and closed the door behind him.

  “Sit down, Prince,” Juad invited. “ ’Tis a long time since we have spoken.” He sighed. “The days of the great Murad’s rule are long past. I must answer to Ibrahim now, whether I like it or not.”

  Dariq took the seat Juad offered. “I hoped you would surrender, Juad. I have naught against you personally and would spare your life for my father’s sake, for he loved you well.”

  “I am glad to hear that, Prince. I but do Ibrahim’s bidding. I consider myself lucky to have avoided you on the high seas thus far. Ibrahim is a murderer; few of his subjects hold him in high regard. He is nothing like his father. He even tried to convince the Grand Vizier that you had a hand in killing your brothers. Selim did not believe him. You are admired by all for your courage and perseverance against your brother’s evil machinations.”

  “Thank you for confiding that to me, Juad.” He pushed himself out of his chair. “All the same, I still must relieve you of your cargo. What is it? Gold? Silver? Aye, tell me what my brother is so eager to possess.”

  Juad straightened his turban and cleared his throat. “The treasure is not what you think, Prince.”

  Dariq’s face settled into harsh lines. “Describe the treasure to me.”

  “Better yet, I will show you. Come, my friend. Follow me and you shall see for yourself the treasure Sultan Ibrahim is eagerly awaiting.”

  “I know how greedy Ibrahim can be when he wants something,” Dariq said, following Juad out the door, “so I’m quite anxious to see his treasure. Depriving Ibrahim of something he desires is my sole purpose in life. ’Tis the reason I turned to piracy.”

  Juad sighed and shook his head. A frisson of disquiet slid down Dariq’s spine. Why was Juad being so evasive? Perhaps there was no treasure and he had been deliberately misled.

  He stopped abruptly and hauled Juad around to face him. “Something is wrong, Juad. Is the treasure aboard another ship?”

  Juad shrugged. “There is treasure and there is treasure. You must judge its worth by your own standards.”

  Dariq’s scowl deepened. He was beginning to worry now. Captain Juad was talking in riddles. A treasure was a treasure no matter what a man’s standards. Dariq was hoping to take something from Ibrahim that he valued, something he desired, but Juad’s attitude was making him intensely uneasy.

  Dariq followed Captain Juad down a narrow companionway. He expected to be taken to the hold, where cargo is usually stored, but obviously this treasure was too valuable to be left in damp quarters. That thought raised his spirits a bit but didn’t entirely ease his misgivings.

  Juad stopped before a door at the end of the companionway. Dariq’s dark brows rose when he saw a burly sailor standing guard. “You keep Ibrahim’s treasure here, under guard?”

  “Aye. You will see why in a moment.”

  Juad dismissed the guard and opened the door. “Behold the sultan’s treasure, Prince Dariq. Make of it what you will for it now belongs to you. Truthfully, I am glad to be done with it. It has caused me a great deal of trouble.”

  Somewhat wary, Dariq stepped inside. He ducked just in time to avoid a missile that sailed past his head and crashed to the deck.

  Then, with shock and a great deal of dismay, he saw her.

  Ibrahim’s treasure.

  A woman.


  Willow Foxburn glared at the fierce pirate who had barged into the cabin, ready to defend herself should the need arise. He appeared startled to see her, his ferocious glower causing her to gulp back a cry. He had dangerous eyes, she thought. Mesmerizing gray eyes. They locked with hers and held, but she didn’t look away.

  Did he speak English? she wondered.

  He said nothing, merely fixed her with that intense silver gaze. She held her breath, suddenly aware that this man presented a new king of danger. Though the man was dressed as a Turk, there was something about him that set him apart from Captain Juad’s sailors.

  He was handsome. Impossibly so. Terrifyingly so. Clearly, he was Turkish, but his silver-gray eyes softened his features and suggested he was not all Turk. She had never seen a man quite like him before.

  “Who are you?” she asked, refusing to back away from his intimidating presence. “I heard the sound of cannon. Is the Ottoman under attack? Are you a pirate?”

  She gave a little start as his glittering gaze swept over her, his curiosity as obvious as hers.

  “Do you speak English?” Willow asked.

  The responsive flicker in his silver eyes might have been surprise, but his expression remained unreadable.

  Dariq was too shocked to speak. It had never crossed his mind that Ibrahim’s treasure could be a woman. Not just any woman, but a woman with hair of pure gold, eyes as green as emeralds, skin like silk and cheeks tinted with roses. His mind failed to accept what his eyes beheld. Dariq had always known that Ibrahim preferred golden-haired women but had yet to find such a woman… until now. The woman standing before him now was likely to satisfy all his brother’s desires.

  And with good reason. She would satisfy a stone if it had a cock. Thinking back, Dariq couldn’t recall one golden-haired concubine in the harem. Even his mother had dark hair, and she was English. It was from Saliha Sultana that he had inherited his silver-gray eyes.

  Dariq’s gaze slid over the young woman, assessing her worth as only a connoisseur of beautiful females could. She wore a short vest and sheer skirts that concealed little of her charms. An aba, the robe meant to hide her curvaceous body from the eyes of the world, lay across the bed.

  Dariq looked his fill, memorizing every lush line of her lithe form, from the short veil that fell over her head and shoulders to the soft slippers on her dainty feet.

  “Who is she?” Dariq asked Captain Juad, who hovered behind him. He could tell from the woman’s puzzled expression that she could not speak his language.

  “She is Lady Willow Foxburn, an Englishwoman. Quite a beauty, is she not?”

  “How did she get here?”

  “Mehmed the slave master had the good fortune to buy her from Barbary pirates who had attacked her ship. The ship was sailing from Marseilles to England when it was stopped and boarded. The woman was taken to Algiers and sold to Mehmed. Apparently, the slave master realized she matched the description of a woman Ibrahim had been searching for, and offered her to him at a hefty price.

  “Though her price was exorbitant, Ibrahim paid it gladly and sent me to fetch her,” Juad continued. He shot Willow a stern look. “She has been a problem from the moment she came aboard. Ibrahim won’t make a pet of this one. She has a fiery temper.”

  “I know you are talking about me. What are you saying?” Willow demanded impatiently. “Do either of you know what happened to my maid?”

  Dariq glanced at Juad. Juad shrugged and said, “Mehmed sold the maid to a minor pasha. Felah is old and known for his gentle ways. The maid will not suffer.”

  “Leave us,” Dariq ordered. “I wish to speak to the woman alone.”

  “You speak her language?”

  “Aye. My mother is English and taught me her language. She was Murad’s true and only wife. He married her in a Christian ceremony. I speak both languages fluently and have knowledge of her Christian God as well as Allah.

  “Ibrahim was born to Father’s favorite concubine before he wed Mother,” Dariq continued. “My six half-brothers are younger, products of Father’s liaisons with other concubines. Despite his Christian marriage, Father followed the dictates of Islam.”

  “Aye, I remember the story now. Your mother’s father was sent to Istanbul on a diplomatic mission; he brought his wife and daughter. Murad fell in love with your mother at first sight and asked for her hand.”

  “Mother must have shared his feelings, for she begged her parents for permission to wed Murad. My grandfather consented to the marriage only when Murad agreed to let Saliha Sultana practice her Christian faith for as long as she lived.

  “Mother loved my father,” Dariq murmured. “His death was a blow to us.” His expression hardened. “Ibrahim will not have this woman without paying a price.”

  Jurad darted a glance at Willow. “Be careful with this one. She cannot be trusted. When you are finished here, I wish to know what your intentions are for my ship and men.”

  The door shut firmly behind Juad. Arms crossed over his massive chest, Dariq turned his attention to the woman.

  “I do not understand your barbaric language,” Willow spat. “What is going to happen to me? Who are you? What happened to my maid? Where are my clothes? What I’m wearing is indecent. Someone will pay for this indignity when my papa hears of it.”

  “I am Prince Dariq. Your maid was purchased by an elderly pasha known for his gentleness.”

  Willow nearly collapsed with relief. “Thank God you speak English. Did Papa send you to rescue me?”

  Dariq laughed, the sound rich and deep. “Did no one tell you that you were purchased by a Turkish sultan?”

  “The slave master spoke a smattering of French. He said a Sultan Ibrahim purchased me for his harem.”

  “I am Dariq, the pirate prince. Ibrahim is my brother.”

  She drew back in horror. “Pirate! This nightmare goes from bad to worse … a horrible dream that won’t end. I heard cannon fire. Have you captured the ship? If you take me to England, my father will reward you. He is a marquis with high connections.”

  Dariq adroitly changed the subject. He would most definitely not take her to England. “Captain Juad said your name is Willow. Willow is a tree, is it not? Or is my English faulty?”

  “Your English is perfect, and you know it. Willow also means freedom. I want to be free.”

  “I cannot free you. You are now my prisoner.”

  “Prisoner! Never say you want me for your harem!”

  “The idea has merit, but ’tis not what I want from you.”

  “Then why…”

  “ ’Tis a long story. Suffice it to say, my brother and I are at odds. I misunderstood the nature of the valuable treasure he was expecting. It seems, lady, you are the treasure I set out to steal from Ibrahim. Although you are not what I expected, you will do.”

  “What role am I to play in your games with your brother?”

  Dariq’s silver eyes glittered as it suddenly occurred to him how he could make use of Willow. “I have dedicated my life to punishing Ibrahim for past sins. You, lady, will help me accomplish that goal. I shall trade you to Ibrahim for someone dear to me.”

  Dariq thought of his mother, whom he hadn’t seen in two years. Though offers had been made for his mother’s release, Ibrahim had refused to let her go. The last message to reach Dariq from the seraglio had made him desperate to free his mother from Ibrahim’s control. His brother had threatened to kill Saliha Sultana if Dariq didn’t surrender. Dariq had hoped to trade Ibrahim’s treasure for his mother’s release without surrendering himself. Perhaps that plan would still work.

  Willow regarded Dariq with disbelief. “What makes you think your brother will agree to a trade? You give me too much significance, pirate. A woman’s life is of little value in your culture. I am no good to you. Return me to England.”

  “You are wrong, lady. Ibrahim lusts after you even without having seen you. I will use his lust to my advantage.”

  “Don’t expect me to coopera
te,” Willow spat. “I’ve been held captive, probed, prodded, humiliated beyond endurance, dressed indecently and sold like a prize mare to the highest bidder.” She stamped her foot. “I demand that you take me home!”

  Dariq grinned. “You have been wrongly named, Willow. A willow tree bends in the wind, but I doubt you will ever bend. Come, it is time to leave.”

  “Leave? Where are you taking me?”

  “To my ship. Captain Juad will carry my terms for your ransom to the sultan. Put on your aba. Your beauty must be covered.”

  Willow harrumphed. “Why? My beauty seems to have little effect on you.”

  Dariq didn’t dare tell her how wrong she was. He went hard just looking at her. “ ’Tis the custom,” he said gruffly. “Women must remain hidden from everyone except their immediate family members. The robe will protect you from unwanted male attention.”

  Grumbling, Willow pulled on the robe. Dariq reached out to fasten the piece of cloth that would cover all her face but for her incredible green eyes. Their gazes met. Dariq’s hand froze, then slid onto her cheek. “So soft,” he murmured. “I wonder… Are your lips as soft as your skin?”

  “Don’t touch me!” Willow hissed, neatly avoiding him as he bent to taste her lips.

  Dariq stiffened, his voice devoid of emotion. “You are right, of course. Ibrahim expects a virgin. If I take you, you are worthless to me.” He searched her face. “You are untouched, are you not?”

  Willow’s breath caught in her throat. “I believe that has already been proven. The slave master had me examined before he offered me to the sultan.” She shuddered. “It was not a pleasant experience.”

  Dariq’s face remained carefully blank. Compassion had no place in his profession. Trying not to think about Ibrahim taking Willow’s virginity, Dariq fastened her veil and ushered her out the door.

  She stepped out onto the deck and froze. “Your men are a ferocious lot, I do not like them.”

  Dariq supposed his crew of pirates did indeed appear a savage lot to a highborn English lady. Most were bearded and wore turbans upon their heads. They carried scimitars and an assortment of weapons; their clothing was a mixture of scruffy Arab and Western wear.