The Pirate Prince

by Connie Mason

  From another pot Baba scooped a double handful of soft soap and rubbed it over Willow’s body. Then she took a flat tool and scraped away dirt and soap until Willow’s skin felt cleaner than it had in weeks.

  “Now you may get into the bath, my lady.”

  Willow rose and stepped into the pool, surprised to find the water warm and soothing. While she soaked the soap from her body, Baba applied soap to her hair and gave it a thorough scrubbing. Then she rinsed it with clean water from a ewer. It was so wonderfully refreshing that Willow hated to leave the hammam when Baba told her to do so.

  Exclaiming over the color of her hair, Baba dried Willow with a large linen drying cloth. When Willow’s skin was glowing, Baba told her to lie on her stomach on the bench. Willow had no idea what was coming next until Baba poured a stream of fragrant oil on her back and buttocks. She rested her head on her crossed arms as strong hands began massaging oil into her shoulders, back and buttocks, and down her legs to her feet. It felt wonderfully decadent and sinful.

  “Turn over, lady.”

  Willow stiffened and looked over her shoulder, stunned to see Ali Hara’s hands on her. She groped for the drying cloth but it had been taken away.

  “Where is Baba?”

  “She will return when I am finished.”

  “No! You should not… it isn’t right. You’re a man.”

  Ali Hara gave an impatient snort. “I am a eunuch, lady, not a man in the true sense of the word. Turn around so that I may finish.”

  Blushing bright red, Willow turned onto her back and closed her eyes. In her world, if a man looked like a man, he was a man. But the bored look on Ali Hara’s face confirmed what he had just said to her. Her naked body meant naught to him. She closed her eyes and tried not to picture Ali Hara as a man.

  Ali Hara lifted his hands a moment, and when they returned they somehow felt rougher, callused even, but so wonderfully relaxing. Then those talented hands sought out a place so intimate that Willow’s eyes flew open and she reared up, shouting, “Stop it, Ali Hara!”

  She blinked, and her mouth dropped open when she saw Dariq leaning over her, his hand slick with oil. He wore a simple white robe, baggy trousers, and a white turban that covered his black hair.

  “How did you get here? Where is Ali Hara? Where is Baba?”

  “I dismissed them. As for how I got here, I go where I please, when I please.” He pointed to a partition of latticework across the room. “I watched you at your bath from there. Lie back, I am not finished yet.”

  “You most certainly are finished,” Willow huffed. She lurched off the bench. “Where are my clothes?”

  “Baba is fetching them for you.”

  She covered her breasts with her hands and gave him her back. “Go away! I am naked.”

  He laughed. “So you are.” His silver gaze traveled the length of her elegant back and dimpled buttocks. “You please me very much, beauty. Were it possible, I would keep you for myself.”

  He stalked toward her. She retreated. He reached for her, pulling her hard against him.

  “Kiss me, beauty.”

  She turned her head away, though she knew she fought a losing battle. There was no way she could stop Dariq from doing as he pleased. He turned her head toward him and kissed her, using his skillful mouth and tongue to work their erotic magic on her. His kiss went on and on, until her legs turned to jelly and her will to resist eroded. She felt a melting inside her and whether by choice or need, leaned into his kiss, molding herself against his hard body. Then she felt herself floating as he scooped her into his arms.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “To my chamber. ’Tis time for another lesson in passion.”

  “No! You cannot. Have you forgotten why I am here?”

  “I won’t ruin you for Ibrahim, if that’s what you are worried about. Your virginity is too important to me. There are other things we can do to give us pleasure.”

  “Stop! I am naked! You cannot carry me off like this.”

  “A small problem easily solved. Ali Hara!” The eunuch appeared instantly. “Bring a caftan for Lady Willow.”

  Ali Hara disappeared and reappeared a few moments later with a rose-colored caftan trimmed in gold tassels draped over his arm. Dariq set Willow on her feet and slipped the silken robe over her head.

  Suddenly a whirlwind flew into the room. “My dear lord, I have been waiting for you!” Safiye cried as she flung herself into Dariq’s arms.

  In her eagerness to reach Dariq, Safiye shoved Willow so hard that she fell backward, landing on her rump. Then Safiye treated her to a display of passion so sexually charged it made Willow’s face flame bright red. Ali Hara rushed to help her to her feet. Refusing to watch Safiye make love to Dariq where he stood, Willow fled from the room.

  Chapter Seven

  Dariq uttered a curse as he peeled Safiye off of him. She was clinging to him so tightly, he could feel her distended nipples and the moist heat of her woman’s mound pressing against him.

  “Why do you not touch me, master?” Safiye asked sulkily. She grasped his hand and brought it between her thighs. “Can you feel how wet I am for you through my skirts? Must I wait until tonight for your attention?”

  From the corner of his eye, Dariq saw Willow flee into her chamber. He supposed he owed Safiye an explanation for Willow’s presence in his seraglio and wondered how much he should reveal. Safiye was merely his concubine, not his wife, and he didn’t need to explain anything to her. He had bought Safiye several months before, after his seraglio had been completed, and until he’d encountered Willow he had been content. She had served his needs well.

  Safiye’s sultry gaze turned petulant when Dariq remained silent. “Never say you intend to take the pale foreigner to your bed tonight. How can you abide her? She is ugly, and I am willing to wager she is ignorant in the art of pleasing a man.”

  A wry grin tipped up the corners of Dariq’s mouth. Willow’s sexual knowledge was indeed limited, but he intended to remedy that situation. Her sexual education would strain his control, but he felt confident he could contain his lust.

  He gazed down at Safiye, suddenly aware of her possessiveness. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. The gleam in her dark eyes was almost predatory as she fondled his cock. Being a virile man, his body reacted noticeably to her intimate handling.

  Rising up on her toes, she whispered against his mouth, “Take me now, master. Right here, where everyone can see I am yours and you are mine.”

  Dariq knew exactly what Safiye intended. She wanted to make Willow jealous. Safiye had never had reason to be jealous before and couldn’t bear the thought that Willow might take her place in Dariq’s bed. Would Safiye hurt Willow if she thought she was being replaced in Dariq’s affections? He intended to quash any such thoughts here and now.

  He gave Safiye a little shake. “Safiye, listen to me. Willow is no threat to you. She is merely staying in my harem until Ibrahim agrees to the trade I’ve proposed. I plan to exchange Lady Willow for my mother.”

  Safiye snorted in disbelief. “I hardly think Ibrahim will want her after you take her virginity.”

  “Willow is still innocent, and I intend for her to remain that way. If you have jealous thoughts about Willow, forget them.”

  Safiye looked perplexed. “How can that be? You were together aboard your ship, and you have been without a woman a long time.”

  “I am not a lad who cannot control himself. Willow is too important to me as a hostage. As you say, Ibrahim will not agree to the exchange if I take her virginity.”

  Safiye gave him a flirtatious smile. “You must be in great need, master. Let me ease you.”

  She knelt before him and searched for his cock through the opening of his trousers. Dariq pulled her hands away and lifted her to her feet.

  “Not now, my passionate little dove. I have too much to do.”

  “Do you swear you won’t take Lady Willow to your bed?”

  Dariq frow
ned. “I make no promises, Safiye, for what I do is none of your concern.”

  Safiye’s full lips turned down. “Will you send for me tonight?”

  “Perhaps,” Dariq muttered distractedly. He was thinking not of Safiye but of Willow, whose supple body he longed to explore upon silken sheets. She consumed all his thoughts. He desired something he could not have, and it was driving him mad.

  Dariq walked away from Safiye, leaving the fiery concubine fuming in impotent rage. Safiye recognized obsession when she saw it, and Lord Dariq was obviously obsessed with the pale Englishwoman. Though Safiye had no idea how long his self-control with Willow would prevail, she knew with a certainty that one day it would snap, and probably sooner rather than later.

  If Willow was still innocent, which Safiye seriously doubted, she wouldn’t be for much longer. Safiye made a silent vow to prevent the inevitable. Whatever it took, Safiye was determined to preserve her position as the prince’s favorite.

  Willow kept to her chamber the rest of the day. Baba brought her clothing similar to Safiye’s, consisting of a colorful beaded vest that barely covered her breasts, a skirt of several layers of gauzy material, soft slippers and a golden girdle studded with jewels. Since she had nothing else to wear, Willow removed her caftan and donned the clothing, even though she considered it far too revealing.

  As evening approached, Willow became aware that she was hungry. She wondered when someone would bring her supper. Eventually Ali Hara appeared without her dinner, carrying a colorful garment over his arm.

  “Am I to go to bed hungry?” Willow asked.

  “Nay, lady. Prince Dariq commands your presence in his chamber.”

  Willow went still. “What does he want?”

  “He did not confide in me, lady.” He handed her a hooded caftan of varying shades of green. “Put this on and follow me.”

  Willow wondered what would happen if she refused. She eyed Ali Hara warily. If his size was any indication of his strength, he would have no problem forcing her to obey Dariq’s summons.

  What did the pirate want? Willow wondered. Didn’t he realize that paying attention to her and not Safiye would antagonize his concubine? Why did he not summon his concubine to his chamber? As Safiye pointed out, Dariq had been many months without a woman and should be eager to bed his lovely concubine.

  Sighing with resignation, Willow pulled on the caftan and followed Ali Hara. To her chagrin, Safiye was waiting near the door, her teeth bared in a feral snarl. Boldly Safiye placed herself in Willow’s path.

  “What did you do to him?” she hissed.

  Willow sent her a startled look. “If you mean Prince Dariq, I did naught.”

  “Prince Dariq sent for you, did he not? He wants to bed you. He lied to me. He said he did not bring you here for his pleasure, and that you were to go untouched to Ibrahim.”

  “Prince Dariq spoke the truth,” Willow contended.

  Safiye gave a snort of disbelief. “Then why did he summon you tonight?”

  “I have no idea,” Willow said truthfully.

  “Move aside, Safiye,” Ali Hara commanded. “My master awaits Lady Willow, and he is not a patient man.”

  Safiye moved away, but not before snarling one last insult at Willow. “I know the prince well. He is a lusty man. He will have you if it pleases him.”

  Willow sincerely hoped not, but she trusted Dariq no more than she did Safiye. Not for the first time, she wondered about the loved one Dariq had left behind in Istanbul. He or she must mean a great deal to him.

  Ali Hara led her down a long green and white marble corridor, turned a corner into another corridor, and stopped before a solid brass door polished to a high sheen. A guard opened the door. Ali Hara gently pushed her forward. When she glanced over her shoulder at him, all she saw was his retreating back. Willow wanted to flee with him but was frozen in place by the opulent chamber that looked like something right out of a fantasy.

  She stood in the open doorway, gawking like a fool at silk-covered walls, slender columns of creamy white and gold marble, and filmy curtains floating around a bed piled high with colorful cushions. Candlelight bathed the chamber in varying shades of gold.

  At first glance Willow thought the chamber was unoccupied. Then she saw him, lounging upon a pile of cushions scattered on the floor around a low table. He lifted his hand, and with a lazy motion, beckoned her forward.

  Willow hesitated. She wanted to turn and run, but the sound of the heavy door closing behind her and her own curiosity carried her forward. Her steps may have dragged a little as she approached Dariq, but her courage did not waver.

  “What do you want? Why did you send for me?”

  “I wish to share my meal with you,” Dariq purred in a voice so blatantly sexual that her steps faltered. “Are you afraid of me, beauty?”

  “Nay. Should I be?” Her quivering voice belied her words.

  Uncoiling his body in one graceful motion, Dariq rose. Willow stared at him. He was every woman’s dream. Dressed in unadorned white, he wore his shirt open nearly to his navel and his baggy trousers thrust into black leather boots. His black hair was loose and rather long, just brushing his shoulders. The predatory gleam in his silver eyes could have melted stone, and Willow was far more malleable than stone.

  Reaching out, Dariq whipped off her caftan and tossed it aside. His breath seized as he stared at her. His gaze roamed over her thinly clad body, from the top of her glorious head to her feet shod in soft slippers. Her hair rippled down her shoulders like a golden cloak; he had seen nothing to compare with it in all his travels. Her legs, visible through the sheer material of her skirts, were long and shapely. Her breasts were barely contained beneath her short vest, and the jewel-studded girdle that draped her hips accentuated the smallness of her waist and the graceful curves flowing beneath the diaphanous fabric of her skirts. She was breathtakingly exquisite; perfect in every way.

  Grasping her elbow, he led her over to the cushions and eased her down. Then he sat down beside her and clapped his hands.

  The door swung open. A servant entered and bowed.

  “You may bring our food now, Haroun,” Dariq ordered. The servant bowed again and departed.

  Dariq smiled when he saw Willow sitting stiffly beside him, her face wearing a wary expression. “Relax, beauty, I merely wish to share a meal with you.” The husky sound of his voice coated her with warmth.

  “Why me when you have Safiye?”

  Dariq frowned. Why indeed? “Had I wanted Safiye, I would have sent for her.”

  A discreet knock and then the door opened. Haroun entered carrying an enormous tray. Another servant bearing gold-trimmed plates, cups and eating utensils entered behind him. Haroun eased the tray down on the table, placed the plates and eating utensils in precise order and quietly departed.

  Dariq uncovered dishes of steaming rice, a savory dish of lamb and vegetables, fish, bowls of soup fragrant with mint, rounds of flatbread and mounds of butter. Accompanying the meal were a pot of tea and a bowl of fresh peaches, dates and figs. Dariq filled a plate for Willow and one for himself.

  When Willow made no move to eat, Dariq picked up a succulent piece of lamb with his fingers and held it to her lips. He chuckled when he heard Willow’s stomach growl.

  “Open your mouth, beauty. You will find this food far superior to any you had aboard the Revenge. Superior to anything you had in England, too, I’ll wager.”

  He nodded his approval when Willow opened her mouth. He popped in the piece of lamb and watched her chew, purposely licking his fingers as she chewed. She must have found the food to her liking, for she picked up her fork and began to eat. Satisfied that Willow did not mean to starve herself, Dariq gave his own plate the attention it deserved. When they had both eaten their fill, Dariq picked up a peach, peeled it and offered Willow a slice.

  She opened her mouth to accept his offering, but instead of letting go of the peach, he let Willow’s mouth close over his fingers. She started violentl
y when he slowly moved his fingers in and out of her mouth before releasing the fruit. A trickle of juice slid down her chin. Before she could wipe it away, Dariq leaned over and licked her chin and then her lips with his tongue.

  “Delicious,” he murmured. “Would you like another slice?”

  He took her silence for assent, though she appeared somewhat wary. He pared another piece of peach and held it to her mouth. As he’d done before, he thrust two fingers into her mouth with the peach.

  He did not even try to suppress his groan as Willow’s tongue flicked over his fingers, licking the peach juice from them. The sensation was so erotic, he feared his cock would burst. Needing to defuse the volatile situation before he lost control, he removed his fingers and popped a slice of peach into his own mouth.

  After they finished the peach, he clapped his hands. The door opened on silent hinges. “Take this away,” he ordered, gesturing to the remains of their meal. “See that we are not disturbed by anyone.” His glittering gaze remained on Willow the entire time he spoke.

  “I should return to the harem,” Willow said. She started to rise.

  Dariq dragged her back down. “No, beauty, you cannot leave yet. I have been thinking about you in this setting all day—nay, since I first clapped eyes on you.”

  Willow scooted away from him. “Why, when I cannot give you what you need? Why did you not summon Safiye? She is eager to… to pleasure you. You have been at sea a long time and need the comfort of a willing woman.”

  Dariq himself wondered why he hadn’t summoned Safiye. Safiye could give him everything he needed from a woman, but it wasn’t Safiye he wanted. Willow intrigued him beyond endurance. It wasn’t just her beauty, which was considerable, or her extraordinary golden hair and lovely green eyes. Nay, it was something less easily defined, something difficult to explain.

  Her spirit was indomitable, her nature unflaggingly optimistic despite the situation in which she had been thrust. He knew she hoped to escape her fate, but what she didn’t know was that escape was impossible. Once she left his protection, she would belong to Ibrahim, body and soul.