Capture My Heart

by Bobbi Smith

  Serad always prided himself on his steely nerve and self-restraint. Never before had he completely lost control this way. The force of his attraction to Tori almost unnerved him. Why was it that this particular woman had the power to drive him to mindlessness? Serad had no answer. He knew only that he was filled with deep-seated feelings of guilt and disgust over his own behavior.

  Tori stirred as the night air slowly cooled her love-heated body. Disbelief filled her as she gradually became aware of what she'd done, and that was followed immediately by a terrible sense of anger with herself. She wondered how in the world she could have given in to Serad so easily? He was a barbarian, a savage, a pirate! He was a wild man, a man of no breeding or culture . . . and yet, she'd responded to him as she'd never thought possible to respond to a man. He had kissed her once and all had been lost! She hadn't even fought him! If anything, she believed she'd encouraged him!

  It was that thought that sobered Tori. She couldn't deny to herself that she had loved every minute in his embrace. Serad's lovemaking had been so special that she could hardly bear to think about it. Their coming together had been exciting beyond measure. It had been a wondrous thing. Any thoughts of Alex and home had vanished when she'd surrendered to Serad's embrace, and just thinking of it now left her heart and body glowing in remembered warmth.

  An image of the dashing corsair played in Tori's mind as she lay quietly in his arms, her eyes still closed. He was the most handsome man she'd ever known, and yet he was also the most maddeningly arrogant. He was totally wrong for her. There was no way she could even think about a life with him. If she were to stay there in Algiers, she would have to forfeit everything—her family, her home, the future she'd planned so happily as the wife of the next Duke of Huntington—and become completely subservient to Serad's wishes.

  Still, even as Tori realized the painful truth of her situation, a troubling thought crept into her mind and heart. Though it could never be between them, she had to admit to herself with painful candor that she had wanted Serad just as much as he'd wanted her. Suddenly very much physically aware of him, Tori shifted slightly in his embrace. Little did she know that her simple movement stirred Serad's desire for her again.

  Serad had been lying there in silence, miserably contemplating the consequences of what he'd done. When the fire of his passion for her threatened to ignite once more, he berated himself for this weakness he had for her. His lack of restraint concerned, confused and angered him, and he knew he had to get away from her intoxicating nearness before he lost all of his self-respect and took her again right then and there.

  Without saying a word to her, Serad withdrew from her and quickly got up. He did not even look at her as he wrapped one of the discarded sheets around his waist and started from the room.

  "Serad?" Tori couldn't believe he'd gotten up and left her so easily.

  He faced her, his expression unreadable. "I will send a servant to you to take you back to the harem. Dress yourself." He spoke coolly with little emotion. His gaze raked over her naked body impassively, then he turned and left the room.

  That Serad had displayed no emotion at all told Tori everything she needed to know. Her own expression hardened before the indifference in his. She had known that this was the way it would be. He would call her to him at his convenience when he wanted to and then discard her just as easily. She lifted her chin in mute testimony to her battered, but still standing, pride.

  Fighting down the despair that threatened, Tori dressed in Jonesey's ugly dress and started to rush from the room. Just as she reached the door, one of the houseservants appeared to accompany her back to the harem. She followed the man there in total silence, then retreated to her room quietly so she wouldn't have to face anyone. She needed quiet now. She needed time to think.

  Serad had gone out on the balcony overlooking the courtyard to wait until Tori had gone from his bedchamber. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for having passed the test he'd set for himself. He'd had the strength of will to leave when he had to. If he'd remained with Tori one minute longer, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have made love to her again. Ordering her to the harem had been the most difficult thing he'd ever done, but having accomplished that, hope grew within him that he could regain his self-control and with it his self-respect. He'd managed to deny himself her love once, and having mastered his desire for her then, he felt confident that he could do it again.

  Serad gazed up at the star-studded night sky, and thoughts of Tori, naked and writhing in her passion beneath him, slipped into his thoughts. Loving her had been wonderful. She was everything he wanted in a woman. She was spirited and exciting. She was intelligent and witty, not to mention absolutely beautiful. Memories of her response to his caresses after he'd broken down her initial reluctance thrilled him, but as quickly as he began to dwell on her sensuality, the heavy weight of his guilt descended again.

  Serad realized that he was going to have to work to win Tori over so she would come to him because she wanted him and for no other reason. The idea was very English in concept and very foreign to his adopted culture. He was torn between his aunt's ways and the Barbary ways. It was deeply troubling for him, but the abiding truth was that he wanted her and would do whatever he had to win her. His decision made, Serad planned to start the very next morning. It would be difficult for him to keep his own needs in check while he wooed her, but he would do it because she was worth the sacrifice.

  Feeling a little bit better, Serad returned to his own bed and as he rested he found himself longing for Tori and wishing she was lying beside him, sharing his bed, his love, and his life.

  "You look troubled, Rabi. Is there anything I can help you with?" Almira asked as she found her mistress sitting near the window in her bedroom in Malik's harem.

  Rabi looked up and smiled slightly, glad to see her. "I think so, Almira, my dear friend. I think so."

  "What is it you want me to do? Does it have anything to do with Serad?"

  "You know me far too well, and, as usual, you're right. Have you heard anything about him or his women captives?" Rabi knew Almira was a veritable font of information of the goings-on in Algiers.

  "Very little," she confessed, "but it's not from a lack of trying. All that I've managed to learn coincides with what you already know—that Serad left on the hunt with Hasim the day he returned to Algiers and that they got back earlier today."

  "There's been no news about the women?"

  "No, nothing."

  Rabi looked very thoughtful, then asked. "Do you think you could get a message to them without anyone finding out?"

  "I could try."

  "I can't risk putting anything in writing, so my message will have to be relayed by word of mouth. Can we trust anyone to do this for us?"

  "I have many friends who will help if we need it," Almira assured her. "What is it you want to tell them?"

  "It isn't so much what I want to tell them, as it is what I want to do for them."

  Almira gave her a puzzled look.

  "I want to help them escape," Rabi concluded.

  "You what?" Almira was truly shocked, for it was a very drastic thing for Rabi to suggest.

  Rabi looked up at her servant, her eyes haunted with the memories of her own past. "I cannot allow my nephew to take these women captive against their will. They are English citizens. They have families who love them. They do not deserve to have all their dreams snatched away from them this way. It's cruel . . . heartless . . ."

  She could hear the bitter sorrow in Rabi's voice, and she knew in that moment that her mistress was reliving her own fate.

  "Almira, I have to help them," she went on earnestly, "It's too late for me, but I can help these women. I can't just stand by and not try to go to their aid. I can't!"

  "I understand," the servant replied, "and I'll help all I can."

  "Thank you."

  As Almira left her mistress, her thoughts were tinged with sadness. Almira had tried to
keep Rabi happy through these long years they'd been together, but she had never been able to completely convince her that her life there with Malik was an idyllic one. A part of her mistress had always clung to the past, longing for what might have been, aching for the man she'd loved and had lost.

  Though Rabi didn't know it, Almira had heard her cry herself to sleep several times. She had never approached her at those private moments or mentioned them afterward, for she was certain Rabi didn't want anyone to know just how much she still missed her old life. But Almira knew, and in that knowledge came complete understanding of her mistress's motivation in wanting to help the Englishwomen, and she decided she would do everything she could to help carry out her wishes.

  When Almira had gone, Rabi let her gaze drift out over the gardens again. Her thoughts were still lingering on the past. How could it be that nearly twenty years had passed, when it seemed like only yesterday that she'd been brought before Malik and he'd claimed her as part of his bounty? Now, here she was, older and wiser and still missing her father, her home, her fiancé, and the life she'd left behind.

  She had come to care for Malik during their years together. He had always been kind and attentive. He had lavished her with presents and made her the sole resident of his harem. But in spite of all his efforts, she had never given up her love for Gerald, and in clinging to that part of her past, she had never given Malik her heart.

  Rabi sighed. It was almost time to go to Malik now. She thought of the handsome dey and knew he was a good man. She did enjoy his company, and the evening would be an exciting one as always, but there was still a part of her that ached for her freedom and the life in London that had once been hers.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  By first light, Serad knew exactly what he was going to do. He summoned his servant to him and gave the orders he wanted executed that very morning. Confidence filled him as he ate his breakfast. This plan of his to win Tori was going to work. He was sure of it. His aunt would be proud of him.

  It was nearly noon when everything had been taken care of and he had finally sent for Tori. In preparation for the trip he'd planned for them, he had donned a loose-fitting white cotton garment called a kibr that fit much like a tunic over his shirt and pants. He had even put on the traditional white headdress to protect against the hot desert sun. Dressed much as a desert sheik, looking quite foreign and very imposing, he waited expectantly for her to come to him in his chambers.

  "Serad?"

  He looked up to see the male servant he'd sent after Tori standing alone in the doorway looking rather embarrassed. "Yes?" he asked cautiously.

  "The woman would not come, Serad. Short of using physical violence on her there was no way I could bring her to you."

  "She wouldn't come?" He gave an exasperated shake of his head, for he should have known what her reaction would be to one of his commands.

  "She said if you wanted to see her, you could come to her there in the harem," the servant finished.

  Serad scowled. Her stubbornness was a match for his, but he knew who would win this battle of wills. He had made his plans for them and she was going to go along with them—no matter what. "I will see to it myself," he told the man, dismissing him.

  Serad strode from his chambers intent on retrieving Tori and following through with his plans.

  "Tori!" He called her name as he stood in the middle of the garden.

  Tori had been busying herself in her own chambers when she heard Serad's call. She'd been expecting an angry reaction from him and she was prepared. After she'd left him, the night had proven long, empty, and hot, and it had given her plenty of time to think. She had come to the conclusion that giving in to Serad had been a foolish, tragic thing and that she could never allow it to happen again. Refusing his earlier summons to come to him had only been the first step in her efforts to stay as far away from him as she could.

  "Serad has come himself this time, and he wants to see you now," Oma related nervously as she came rushing into the room. She had known there would be trouble when she'd been forced to send Serad's man back to him with the news that Tori would not budge from her room. Now, Serad had come himself. She knew he was not happy.

  "He does, does he?"

  "He's in the garden."

  Tori felt a little sense of victory as she nodded and started from the room. It annoyed her that she had to wear a native dress. Sometime early that morning, Oma had taken all of Jonesey's things, too, undoubtedly on Serad's order, and both women had been forced to don the other clothing. Still, there was a small triumph for her. Serad had come to her. He had not had her dragged to his quarters, and that was something.

  Tori made her way out to where Serad waited. Her first sight of him clad in the desert clothing shocked her. For an instant she almost thought it was a stranger who stood with his back to her, and then, instinctively, she knew it was him. She studied Serad unobserved. She was coming to understand that he was a very complex man and wondering how many different facets there were to him. First he had been the fierce pirate captain with turban and scimitar, then the royal prince, and now the sheik in headdress and robes. Though she told herself it was wrong, she was attracted to him in all guises. No matter what he wore, no matter what he did, she found she desired him.

  "You wanted me?" Tori finally spoke.

  Serad glanced up at Tori, and his heart constricted in his chest. Did he want her? She looked breathtakingly lovely in the Algerian dress, just as he'd known she would. He could only stare at her. Did he want her? The question was absolutely ludicrous. Want wasn't the word for it.

  "It is customary that when one is summoned to one's master, one goes," he dictated tersely.

  "I have no master," she answered simply.

  "We have had this conversation before." He was trying to be cool and composed as he dealt with her defiance.

  "Yes, we have."

  "I see you've adopted our style of dress. I approve."

  "I had only the choice of coming to you naked or wearing this. Wearing this was the better decision."

  "You look beautiful."

  "I would prefer my own clothing."

  "Your things will not be returned to you. I prefer you in that. Oma!"

  "Yes, Serad?" The servant appeared in the archway.

  "Bring a haik to me now." Serad knew the sun would be punishing and cruel to Tori if she did not have on the proper dress for their trip. He wanted to make sure she was protected. "Do you ride?" he asked, changing the subject.

  "Yes," she answered distrustfully, her chin set stubbornly when she noticed the doubt of her riding abilities in his expression.

  "Good . . . good." He smiled. "Ah, here's Oma now . . ." He took the haik from the servant and then sent her on her way. When they were alone again, he held out his hand to her. "Now, Tori come with me," he invited.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you," she declared firmly, standing her ground. She knew she couldn't be alone with him. It was far too dangerous to her peace of mind.

  "I said, come with me," Serad repeated tersely as he kept himself rigidly in control. The invitation had gone out of his tone, and his eyes had turned steely.

  "I choose not to." She flaunted his authority once again.

  Serad told himself that he'd tried to be kindly. He'd tried to make her see reason, but her comment hit him where he was most vulnerable. In the way of men when hurt, he struck back the only way he could—with physical action.

  Serad didn't consider what he was about to do. He wanted to win Tori, but how could he unless she cooperated? Frustrated, he closed the distance between them in four determined strides and without another word picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

  "What do you think you're doing?!" Tori shouted in outrage as she pummeled his broad back with ineffectual blows. "Put me down."

  "Be quiet," he commanded, tightening his grip on her with ominous intent. "I am very close to showing you the way we discipline unruly female captives." Serad's ch
oice of wording was bad, but he was so annoyed he didn't care. He had made plans for them, and he intended to carry them out. She was going to enjoy herself, whether she knew it or not!

  Tori could feel the explosive anger in him and wisely said nothing.

  Jonesey, however, had heard Tori's shriek of outrage, and she came running to help. She cut off Serad's retreat, confronting him with her hands on her hips.

  "Just what do you think you're doing with Miss Victoria?" she demanded, her manner as threatening as it could be for a five-foot-tall woman.

  "Do not challenge my authority, woman!" he thundered. Was there no end to his aggravation?

  Jonesey had never been talked to in that forceful a manner before, and had she been made of lesser stuff she might have shown her fear before him. But she did not give up. "You can't carry her off this way. I forbid it!"

  Serad stopped, and, still holding onto the squirming, miserable Tori, he glowered down at Jonesey. When he spoke his voice was coldly imperial. "If you plan to see the sun rise tomorrow, then I suggest you remove yourself from my presence."

  Jonesey opened her mouth to respond, thought the better of it after seeing the look in his eyes, and backed out of his way. As Serad once more started from the women's quarters, she gathered enough courage to yell after him, "If any harm comes to her . . ."

  "Jonesey . . . hush . . . don't . . ." Tori gasped as Serad picked up his pace and she was jounced around a bit, knocking the breath from her. She knew he was furious and she didn't want him riled any more than he already was. She didn't want Jonesey hurt, and she knew she could take care of herself.

  "But Miss Victoria . . ." the older woman protested in horror, for she understood Serad's intentions and was certain of what her fate would be.

  The rest of her words were lost to both Serad and Tori as he finally made his escape from the harem. Jonesey stood there, staring helplessly after them. After a moment of desperation, she turned and went back inside. As she did, the worried look slipped away and a small smile lit her features. She couldn't help but admire how strikingly handsome Serad had looked and how marvelously romantic it would be to be carried off that way. She put a hand over her breast to try to stop the fluttering of her heart and told herself she was too old for such fantasies.