Capture My Heart

by Bobbi Smith

  Edward thought of Alexander and Tori's wedding and his eyes lit up with the glow of inner happiness. It had been a quiet, private ceremony, but that was the way they'd wanted it. Tori had been a beautiful bride, and Alexander the perfect groom. Tori's beloved parents had arrived just in time for the wedding, and they, too, could see the depth of the couple's love for each other shining in their eyes. Her family hoped the good Lord would bless them and keep them happy.

  Alexander had told Edward before they'd left on their short honeymoon that he planned to remain in England and resume his rightful place as his heir. The news had thrilled him, and Edward had been hard pressed to maintain his composure. He was looking forward to spending time with him. They'd both agreed that the first thing they were going to do as soon as Alex returned was to paint the name Scimitar on the toy boat. It was something that had been too long delayed as it was.

  David came into his thoughts, then, and Edward felt good about the way things had worked out with him. Once he'd learned the whole truth of Vivienne's perfidy, he'd understood the difficult situation David had been forced into, Edward had been especially appreciative of his quick thinking in arranging the "death" of Serad after his escape. Alexander had been able to assume his rightful place as the future duke, and no one had ever found out about his pirate past.

  There had been a few questions about David's identity, but Edward had turned them away, telling those who asked about Vivienne's treachery. Having come to care for David as he had, Edward had been determined to see his future made easier. He'd learned of his love for the maid Tess and had sent him on his way to Huntington House with his blessing. He knew David planned to propose, and he hoped they would be as happy as Alex and Tori promised to be.

  And then there was Catherine. At the thought of his beloved daughter, Edward's smile became tinged with a faint touch of melancholy. Though they had just been reunited, he now had to give her up again. Catherine had come to him the morning after Alexander's rescue with the news that she loved Malik and intended to return to Algiers to marry him.

  Alexander had been thrilled by her decision. She'd remained in London long enough to celebrate the wedding with them, but was scheduled to leave for Algiers today. A sound at the doorway drew him from his thoughts and he turned to find Catherine standing there watching him.

  "Good morning, Father."

  "Good morning, darling. You look lovely this morning," he complimented her as she stood before him wearing a new daygown they'd had made up for her on a rush order from the seamstress. It was the same color as her eyes and made her look particularly pretty.

  She thanked him, smiling at him softly. She had been so happy to return home, and their reunion had been everything she'd hoped it would be. But now, it was time for her future. She was a woman, a woman in love, and she had put aside her childish dreams. She loved Malik, and she wanted to tell him so. "I believe it's time for us to leave for the docks."

  "Are you packed?"

  "Yes, Almira has everything ready."

  "I don't want to lose you again," Edward admitted as he came to give her a fatherly kiss.

  "You're not losing me, Father," Catherine told him with a teary smile. "I want you to keep the promise you made to me that you'll come visit us in Algiers with Alex and Tori."

  "We'll come. I want to meet the man who's won your heart."

  "Malik's wonderful. You'll like him, I'm sure," she confided. Her heartbeat quickened as she thought of Malik and how torn he'd been when she'd left him. She missed him, ached for him really, and she couldn't wait to tell him of her love.

  "If you and Alex both like him, then I can do no less."

  "Your Grace, the carriage is waiting," Dalton announced.

  "Oh, Dalton, I'm going to miss you. Will you travel with Father when he comes to visit me?"

  "I'd be honored," he answered, feeling proud that she wanted him, too.

  Catherine embraced him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Take care of my father," she whispered in his ear.

  "I will."

  Dalton watched as Edward escorted her from the house and they entered the carriage. After they'd driven off, he turned back inside and wiped the tears from his eyes.

  Malik was restless. He hadn't slept the night through since Rabi had left, and lately he'd found it difficult to get even those few hours of sleep. Leaving his bedchamber, he moved into the sitting room and lit a lamp. His gaze fell upon the chess set that he and Rabi had used so often, and he felt a pang of loss. Wandering to the arched windows that overlooked the garden, he stared out across it, seeking some peace and contentment, but none would come. He owned the world, but without the woman he loved by his side, it mattered little.

  Malik was gazing out at the black velvet night, deep in thought, when he heard the sound of hushed voices below. He frowned, wondering who besides himself would be up at this time of night. Caution always edged his decisions, and he got his knife from his bedtable before leaving his rooms to see who was about.

  Muhammed had been waiting for this moment for years. He'd finally managed to sneak inside the palace, and now all he had to do was catch Malik alone and put him to death. He was sure that the dey's guards would be relaxed since Serad had sunk his ship and his own death had been reported. That gave him the advantage of surprise, and he intended to make full use of it.

  Muhammed was just starting inside the palace from the garden when he heard footsteps coming his way. He expected it to be one of the guards and it surprised him when he saw Malik. He attacked immediately, firing his pistol with deadly intent.

  Malik managed only one cry of warning to alert the palace guards before his knees gave way beneath him. He managed to glance down and was stunned to see blood staining his white tunic. Thoughts of Rabi entered his mind as he fell to the marble floor, and darkness claimed him, sweeping him away from the pain and heartache and loneliness.

  Catherine could hardly believe that they had finally made port. The voyage back to Algiers had seemed endless, and she couldn't wait to be with Malik again. To honor him, she had gone below and donned an Algerian gown. Dressed now as his woman, she stood on deck, watching the city that would truly be her home in her heart and her life come into full view.

  Almira stood with Rabi on deck, glad to be back where they belonged. One thing was puzzling her, though. "Catherine?" she asked. "What shall I call you now that we are back in Algiers?"

  Catherine's expression turned tender as she smiled at her maid. "Call me Rabi. It is the name Malik chose for me, and I will use it with pride from now on."

  Almira returned her smile, and they waited eagerly for the gangplank to be lowered. Together, they made their way directly to the palace.

  Rabi's heart was pounding as she approached the entrance. She hadn't realized how much she'd loved Malik when she'd left, but she knew now and she would never leave him again.

  "I need to see Malik right away," Rabi announced to the guard. She knew she was being exceedingly bold, but she didn't care. This was desperately important. "Please tell him that I will be waiting for him in the harem."

  The guard gave her a strange look, but she thought nothing of it. She assumed he was just surprised that she'd returned to Algiers so quickly. She and Almira continued on to the harem, and she went out to the garden to await Malik.

  Rabi was surprised when a few minutes later, Hasim appeared.

  "Rabi . . . thank Allah, you've come."

  He sounded so desperate and looked so haggard that she came immediately to her feet. "What is it?"

  "It's my father . . ."

  "He's hurt?"

  Hasim nodded as his eyes met hers. "We thought we'd killed Muhammed when we sank his ship, but he managed to escape. He gained access to the palace and shot my father four days ago. The guards killed Muhammed afterward, but by then the damage had been done."

  Rabi could see the deep sorrow and concern in his haunted gaze. "Take me to him," she demanded. "I must see him. I must speak with him." />
  Hasim led her from the harem. "He's been unconscious for some time now. He lost a lot of blood."

  Rabi nodded as she listened, for she didn't trust herself to speak. Malik had almost been killed. She could only thank God that she'd returned when she had. Her resolve became unshakable. She was going to save Malik. She felt she had wasted their previous years together by not recognizing her love for him, but she meant to make all that up to him, starting today. He would survive. She would not allow him to die.

  Hasim brought her to Malik's bedchamber, and she entered only to pause just inside the door. Malik, her love, lay motionless on the bed, his chest swathed in white bandages, his coloring pale. A sob escaped her as she rushed to his side. The physician who'd been tending him was startled by the interruption, but seeing that it was Rabi, he quietly left the room to give her time alone with him.

  "Malik . . ." Rabi whispered as she sat beside him and took his hand. "Malik, my love. I've come back to you . . ."

  There was no response from Malik. He lay unmoving, only the slight rise and fall of his chest proving he was still alive.

  "Malik . . .!" she began again, talking to him in a low voice, demanding he return to her.

  Time began to slip by, but she did not stop talking to him. Over and over, she said his name. She told him of her love and of how she wanted to marry him just as soon as he opened his eyes. She told him of Serad's safety and his reunion with his grandfather, and she told him of his marriage to Tori.

  Through the rest of the day and all of the night, Rabi remained, never moving from his bedside. Dawn found her still beside Malik, her head resting on the bed as she finally gave in to her exhaustion.

  Malik wasn't sure what pulled him back from the brink. He had faced death and had no fear of it, but the soft call of a distant voice refused to let him pass. Over and over the voice insisted he return. Over and over he heard it plead with him to come back.

  Malik felt as if he were swimming upward from the bottom of a deep body of water. Blackness surrounded him. Before he had welcomed it, but now he fought against it as he searched for the source of the voice. He needed to hear it again.

  Malik opened his eyes. He blinked. It was daylight. Hadn't it been night? He was confused, and then he looked down and saw her.

  "Rabi?"

  It was a harsh whisper, but it was all that was needed to rouse her from her light, fitful rest. Rabi sat up, and the weariness was instantly gone from her as she found herself gazing into Malik's golden eyes.

  "Thank God!" she cried. "Oh, Malik . . ."

  "You have returned to me?" he managed with difficulty.

  "I love you. How could I have stayed away?" Rabi asked, crying as she took his hand and pressed it to her lips. "I thought I was losing you. I thought you were going to die and leave me."

  A fierce, possessive light shone in his eyes. He had waited years to hear her say those words. His soul felt invigorated. He loved Rabi . . . and she loved him. She had returned to him.

  "What of Serad?"

  "Serad is fine. He will return soon too." Rabi knew there would be plenty of time later to tell him all of what had happened.

  "And what of your home?"

  "My home is with you, my love. If you still want me, I will be your wife."

  It took most of his strength but Malik managed to lift a hand and touch her hair. "I have never stopped wanting you, Rabi."

  "Nor I you, Malik. It took almost losing you to find out, but I love you." Rabi bent over him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "And I will stay with you forever."

  "That is all I ever wanted, my love . . ."

  Epilogue

  "It's beautiful . . ." Tori breathed as she stood beside Alex on the bank of the reflecting pool. The water was a smooth mirror reflecting the green leafy canopy of the arching tree limbs overhead and the lush, flowering shrubs that surrounded it. It was as much a paradise as their oasis had been.

  "Almost as beautiful as you," Alex responded as he gazed down at her. He had been eager to see his favorite childhood place again and had brought Tori here the moment they'd settled in at Huntington House. As he looked around, Alex discovered that he had not exaggerated the pond's beauty in his mind, for he found it was much like he'd remembered it.

  Tori was thrilled that he'd wanted to share the spot with her, and she went to him and looped her arms around his neck. "I can see why you loved it here. It's very peaceful . . . and so secluded." She stood on tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

  "It was my hideaway as a boy. I used to come here with Grandfather and sail my boat. I had dreams of being a sea captain, even then . . ." For a moment, there was a faraway look in his eyes.

  "I'm glad things worked out for Tariq and the others."

  Alex smiled. "Grandfather really does have influence, and he certainly knows how to use it. I was relieved to hear that he'd gotten them all released and that they are on their way back to Algiers."

  "I'm sorry you lost the Scimitar, though," Tori told him. "I know how much your ship meant to you."

  Alex looked sad for a moment, but then he managed a lopsided grin. "Well, at least I still have the original Scimitar . . ."

  He moved away from her to pick up the toy boat he'd brought with them, and he proudly showed her the newly painted name on the side. "Grandfather painted it for me."

  Tori's happiness was so great, she felt tears well up in her eyes. "I love you, Alex, and I hope you're happy."

  He heard the catch in her voice and walked back to her. "Of course I'm happy. We're together, I'm back with my grandfather again, and I've made peace with Jonesey . . ." Alex couldn't help but chuckle as he remembered the look on Jonesey's face when he'd handed her the brand new umbrella when they had returned from their honeymoon.

  "I think if I hadn't married you, she might have."

  "Oh, I don't know . . ." Alex grinned. "I always thought she had a soft spot for Tariq."

  "Never! It was you she liked, but she had to protect me from you, you know."

  "And she did an admirable job . . . for a while. I'm glad she eventually failed, though."

  "So am I." She kissed him softly. "But are you going to miss your home in Algiers? I feel like you've given up so much for me."

  "No, Tori. I've given up nothing. I've gained my whole life. And it's not like I'll never see Malik, Aunt Catherine, and Hasim again. We'll be traveling back to Algiers in a few months with Grandfather. What more could I possibly want? My life is as close to perfect as it could be, but what about you?"

  "Oh, Alex, you know I'm happy. I still find it difficult to believe that everything worked out the way it did, but I'm not foolish enough to question my good fortune."

  "So you really were in love with your fiancé?"

  "Of course," she said with mock indignation. "I just didn't know it was you at the time, that's all."

  Alex set the Scimitar to sail on the pool, and then stood back to watch it skim smoothly across the water. His mind was filled with memories of the adventures he'd dreamed of as a child, and he marveled at the many turns his life had taken.

  Tori remained where she was watching Alex, and the love she felt for him filled her with a deep, abiding warmth. As he stood on the bank, he looked every inch the cultured gentleman in his dress pants and white shirt, and she couldn't help but smile. He had been her pirate captain and her sheik, and now he was her English nobleman, and she had loved them all.

  Tori's pulse quickened and she moved to join him. He sensed her presence and gazed down at her. Without speaking, she slid her arms around his waist and pulled him to her for a kiss.

  "I love you, Alexander . . ."

  He smiled as he took her up on her unspoken invitation. "I love you, too."

  With ease, Alex lifted her up in his arms and lay her upon the soft grass nearby. He moved over her, covering her body with his as he kissed her again.

  "Just how private is this place?" Tori asked.

  "Very," he murmured.


  "I think this might become my favorite place, too."

  As the Scimitar sailed a straight course on the glassy waters of the reflecting pool, Alex and Tori came together. In the privacy of their Eden, they rejoiced in their love and knew that their life together would be as perfect as the Scimitar's voyage.

  The End

  Want more Western historical romance

  from Bobbi Smith?

  Here's an excerpt from

  DREAM WARRIOR

  Prologue

  Spring 1859—Dakota Territory

  "Easy, boy." Gray Eyes, the eight-year-old, half-breed Cheyenne boy, spoke quietly as he approached the sleek young stallion he sought to tame. "Easy, Wild One."

  It was almost dark, but Gray Eyes didn't notice. His concentration fierce and his expression determined, he closed in on the spirited black horse that had been a gift from his grandfather, Tall Shadow, the chief of the tribe. His grandfather had known how smart and independent the horse was and had offered to help train it, but Gray Eyes had turned him down. He was determined to break the stallion by himself.

  Wild One was living up to his reputation for having a mind of his own. Gray Eyes had been working with the horse since early that morning, but had met with little success so far. Still, he refused to be discouraged. He wouldn't let the physical pain and exhaustion he felt or the other Cheyenne boys' mocking laughter stop him. He was going to master this horse, and once he did, it would be the finest mount in the tribe.

  As Gray Eyes approached the stallion again, the horse rolled his eyes and laid back his ears as he sidled away. Tired though he was, the horse was just as stubborn as the boy and would continue this struggle for domination. He would not yield his freedom easily.

  Driven by his burning need to succeed, Gray Eyes concentrated on mounting again. He'd learned early in life that he was different from the other boys and that the white man's blood that ran in his veins from his now-dead father had somehow tainted him. He'd always felt he'd had to earn their respect, and he'd done so with a vengeance, always working to be the best. It had become a way of life for him, and taming this horse would be no different from any of the other challenges he'd faced. Finally, ready to engage the battle once more, he grabbed Wild One's rein and vaulted onto his back, gripping the stallion tightly with his legs.