The Pirate Prince (16 page)

“I speak both French and Turkish,” Willow said before Mustafa could reply.

The sultan’s dark gaze settled on Willow. Ibrahim was not unhandsome, she decided, but there was a cold
emptiness in his eyes that frightened her. His thick eyebrows and neat beard were dark as night, but his eyes were too bright, too cunning. He’d appeared startled when she’d addressed him without asking permission.

“What is your name, lady?”

“I am Lady Willow Foxburn, and I demand that you return me to my father.”

Ibrahim’s eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. “You may demand naught of me, lady. I paid for you in hard gold coin. You are mine to do with as I please. Henceforth, you will speak only when spoken to.”

“The lady is not yours until you keep your part of the bargain,” Mustafa reminded him.

Ibrahim scowled. “I do not trust you, Mustafa. Were it not for you and Saliha Sultana, my brother would have met the fate I had intended for him. I wish to inspect the woman to make sure I have not been cheated. Remove your aba, lady.”

There was nothing Willow could do to hide her scantily clad form from the sultan. With great reluctance, she removed her aba and dropped it to the floor. She heard the sharp intake of Ibrahim’s breath and met his probing gaze without flinching, refusing to be cowed.

Silence pulsed as Ibrahim stared at her. “Ahhh,” he breathed, “she is lovely. More radiant than the moon and stars.” He uncoiled his long form from the chair and stalked toward her. Only then did Willow flinch.

He was as tall as Dariq but more frightening in manner, though not nearly as broad or muscular as his brother. He stopped in front of Willow and lifted a strand of her hair, winding it around his finger. When he released it, it sprang back to its original shape, as if it possessed a life of its own.

“Your hair is spun gold. I have never Seen the like.
You will always wear it down for me when you come to my bed.”

She blinked up at him, the picture his words conveyed too painful to contemplate.

“Your eyes,” Ibrahim continued. “They are like glowing emeralds. You are indeed a treasure and well worth the price.”

“Now that you have seen Lady Willow and approve, you will release Salilha Sultana,” Mustafa demanded.

Ibrahim shifted his gaze from Willow to Mustafa with marked reluctance. “Not yet. Step back several paces so that I might have a private word with the lady.”

Both Mustafa and Ali Hara shuffled backward toward the door. Once they were out of hearing, Ibrahim let his avid, lust-darkened eyes roam over Willow’s scantily clad body.

“You were with my brother a long time, lady.”

His words demanded no answer, so Willow gave none. She knew what he was implying.

His gaze grew more intense, his expression hardening. “Did he take your virginity? Did my brother have you?”

Willow knew that lying would not help her. Her missing maidenhead was tangible proof that she was no longer virginal. Looking directly into Ibrahim’s eyes, she said, “Aye.” A more complicated answer wasn’t necessary.

Ibrahim whirled and paced to his chair. He appeared angry. His shoulders were stiff, his hands fisted at his sides. But he didn’t sit down. He whipped around and strode back to Willow.

“I expected as much. I knew my brother could not resist you. Even so, he took you to defy me. If you had lied to me, I would have known it. My brother is a coward. He did not accompany you to Istanbul because he knew I would have killed him for taking what was mine.”

“You would have killed him anyway,” Willow shot back.

He pushed his hand into her hair, digging his fingers into her scalp. Willow gasped as pain seared through her. Reining in her anger, she blinked away tears forming in her eyes and glared up at him. “If you do not want me, return me to Prince Dariq.”

Seizing her shoulders, Ibrahim snarled, “Never! You are mine. Dariq cannot have you. Think you I don’t know he is planning to kill me and seize my power?”

“Dariq has no plans to seize your power,” Willow argued.

Ibrahim’s hands tightened hurtfully on her shoulders. She winced.

“Do not hurt her, I beg you,” Ali Hara said, rushing to Willow’s defense.

Ibrahim looked past Willow to Ali Hara. “Who are you to speak on behalf of my concubine?” His eyes narrowed. “I remember you now. You are Ali Hara, the eunuch who disappeared from my harem shortly after my brother ran away.”

“Aye, my lord,” Ali Hara admitted. “I now serve Lady Willow. I intend to remain with her, if it pleases you.”

Ibrahim laughed. Willow thought it an ugly sound. “You may remain if you wish, but Kamel’s word is law in the harem.”

“I understand, my lord,” Ali Hara replied. “I merely wish to protect the lady Willow from your concubines. There is bound to be jealousy, and you know how ugly that can get.”

Ibrahim returned his hard gaze to Willow. “Are you with child?”

Willow blanched and took a step backward. “I do not know.”

Ibrahim stomped his foot like a spoiled child. “I will kill my brother for despoiling you! I will not rest until his
head is separated from his shoulders, nor will I take you to my bed until I have proof that you are not carrying my brother’s child.”

Willow almost collapsed with relief. It was the reprieve she had prayed for. She lowered her head, docile and accepting, while her mind raced ahead to the possibilities now open to her. At the most, she had a month to plan an escape. If she wished hard enough for a miracle, one might be granted to her, It would be a miracle if Ibrahim forgot she existed.

The sultan seated himself upon his throne and gestured for Ali Hara and Mustafa to approach.

“Where is my brother?” he asked. “Does he remain aboard the
Revenge
because he is too cowardly to face me?”

“Nay, my lord,” Mustafa answered. “Prince Dariq is not a coward. He was… tied up and sent me in his stead.”

“Where is his stronghold?” Ibrahim demanded. “I know he has a fleet of ships and a Brotherhood of pirates at his disposal. He has disrupted my shipping and caused me great anguish. He allows little to get through to Istanbul from other ports.”

“The
Revenge
is our home, my lord. As you well know, ’tis a sturdy ship. There is naught else I can tell you.”

Obviously, Ibrahim didn’t like the answer. “I can deal with you in ways you will not like if you do not tell me what I wish to know.”

“Prince Dariq kept his part of the bargain and expects you to keep yours,” Mustafa said. “You are a great sultan. Is your word not trustworthy? An agreement is an agreement. You promised to release Saliha Sultana if my master delivered the woman to you. Prince Dariq has generously agreed to let your ships pass in peace for the period of one year. Lady Willow stands before you now, and you appear pleased with her. ’Tis time you produced
Saliha Sultana. Should you renege, word that Sultan Ibrahim’s honor cannot be trusted will travel throughout the Ottoman Empire and beyond.”

It was a bold speech, and Willow hoped it wouldn’t cost Mustafa his head.

Ibrahim’s burning gaze returned to Willow, the heat of his lust scorching her wherever it touched, and it seemed to touch everywhere. She shuddered and hugged herself, trying to hide as much of her body as she could from his vile gaze.

“Never let it be said that the great Sultan Ibrahim is without honor.” His gaze shifted to a wooden screen at the left of his throne. “You may come out, Saliha Sultana.”

Willow’s breath caught when an older woman clad in a flowing silk caftan stepped out from behind the screen. Small of stature and delicate, with lovely gray hair and undiminished beauty despite her age, she carried herself proudly as she approached Willow.

“I am sorry, my dear,” she said in English. “Had it been my choice, you would not be here. I am an old woman and have lived a full life, while you have yours before you. My son must not have been thinking clearly. You do not belong here.”

Saliha Sultana’s silver-gray eyes were so like her son’s that Willow could have stared into them forever.

“What are you saying?” Ibrahim barked. “I do not understand your heathenish tongue.”

“I was merely welcoming Lady Willow to your seraglio,” Saliha said.

“Watch your back, my lady,” Saliha continued in English. “There is much intrigue in the harem. Kamel will do his best to protect you. Trust him.”

“Leave now with Mustafa, Saliha Sultana,” Ibraham ordered. “And good riddance,” he added sourly.

Mustafa grasped Saliha’s elbow as if to lead her away. Willow grasped the sleeve of her caftan. “A moment, my lady,” she whispered. “Please take good care of Dariq. He is … I… just keep him from harm.”

Saliha’s keen gaze searched Willow’s face. “Oh, dear God. You love my son. How could he do this to you?”

“ ’Twas my choice,” Willow whispered. “I came willingly, my lady. Dariq did not send me, nor was I forced.”

“We must leave, Saliha Sultana,” Mustafa insisted. “I will explain everything to you once we are aboard the
Revenge
.”

Her silver eyes blurred with tears, Saliha bowed her head and allowed Mustafa to lead her away.

Ali Hara stepped protectively nearer to Willow. She sent him a wobbly smile. His friendly face meant a great deal to her at this moment.

Ibrahim stood. “Fetch Kamel!” he ordered one of the guards. He returned his gaze to Willow. “Turn around, lady, slowly—very slowly.”

She glanced at Ali Hara. When he nodded, she did as Ibrahim asked. She felt like a piece of meat hanging in a market stall as his hot gaze traveled over her.

“Come closer, lady.”

Willow’s steps dragged as she approached Ibrahim.

“Show me your breasts.”

Willow’s head shot up. “Nay!”

Ali Hara stepped between Ibrahim and Willow. “My lady is exhausted, my lord Sultan. It has been a long journey. You will find her willing to accommodate you after she bathes and rests. Perhaps, oh, great one, you will grant her time to become accustomed to her surroundings before you make demands of her.”

Ibrahim sent Ali Hara a fearsome look. “You are too bold, Ali Hara. Are you deliberately trying to thwart me?
Since my brother has seen and touched the lady Willow, why should I not have the same privileges?”

Kamel chose that moment to make his appearance. “You sent for me, master?” The eunuch slanted Willow a reassuring smile. “Your new concubine has arrived, I see. Am I to assume Saliha Sultana has been allowed to leave?”

“Aye, she is gone, and good riddance,” Ibrahim said petulantly. “I wish I could rid myself of her son as easily. Dariq is the bane of my existence. For all I know, he is gathering followers as we speak to help him wrest power from me. Turkey is a big country; ’tis impossible to have eyes everywhere.”

“Dariq does not want the sultanate,” Willow repeated. “He wants justice.”

“Silence!” Ibrahim shouted. “Take Lady Willow away, Kamel, and teach her to speak only when spoken to. I do not like bold women. She is here to please me, not to question or judge me. Inform the mistress of the harem she has one month to prepare my new concubine for my bed. Tell Hetice I wish to be informed when Lady Willow’s moon cycle begins. If I learn she is carrying my brother’s child, I will present her to my stableman.” He grinned evilly. “I promise she will like neither her new master nor his harsh ways.”

With a wave of his hand, he dismissed Willow and the two eunuchs.

Misery rode Dariq as he stared at the rip that had appeared in one of the sails. Bad luck had plagued him since he boarded the
Hunter
. He would never reach Istanbul in time to keep Willow from Ibrahim’s bed. Even after the canvas was repaired, he held little hope of his mission’s success. Rage seethed within him. Heads would roll for
this. Men he had trusted had deliberately foiled his plans. They had no authority to decide that his life was more important than Willow’s.

For the last two years, Dariq felt he had been living on borrowed time. He should have died with his brothers when Ibrahim committed fratricide.

Even though Mustafa had been instrumental in saving his life on that day of infamy two years ago, Dariq could not forgive him nor his other so-called friends.

“Ship ahoy!” the lookout shouted from the crow’s nest. “Approaching fast from the north.”

“Can you make out her colors?” Dariq shouted.

“Aye. She bears your own flag, prince. ’Tis the
Revenge
.”

Dariq lifted the spyglass; it took but a brief glance to recognize the
Revenge
. The spyglass lowered, and with it his spirits. His flag ship was sailing south for one reason only.

It had delivered Willow to Ibrahim and was returning to Lipsi with his mother.

Willow
!

He wanted to howl her name.

Chapter Fifteen

Dariq knew Mustafa had seen the
Hunter
when he saw the
Revenge
immediately begin hauling in canvas. Dariq ordered the
Hunter’s
sails furled and paced the deck as he waited for his flagship to approach. He had a few choice words for his former friend and hoped he could contain his temper long enough to say them.

When the
Revenge
eased up alongside the
Hunter
, Dariq ordered the boarding planks run out. He was the first man over the side. Mustafa was waiting for him.

“You are no longer counted among my friends!” Dariq spat. “What you did was unforgivable. You were wrong to usurp my authority. What say you, Mustafa?”

Mustafa shrugged but made no effort to defend himself. “I made a promise to your mother. Your life must be spared at all costs.”

“Even if it means the sacrifice of an innocent woman to my brother’s lust?”

“Aye, even then, my lord.”

“I can no longer call you friend,” Dariq snarled. “I will
never forgive you for convincing Willow to sacrifice her life for mine.”

Mustafa did not correct Dariq. Though Willow had left willingly, he knew that was not what Dariq wanted to hear. His friend was far too willful, too angry, to listen to the voice of reason.

“I am taking the
Revenge
to Istanbul to right the wrong you and your cohorts are responsible for. You are to return to Lipsi on the
Hunter
.”

“I will not leave you, master,” Mustafa said defiantly.

Saliha Sultana stepped out from the shadows, revealing her presence to her son. “Do not go, Dariq—’tis too late. Mustafa is not entirely to blame. Lady Willow told me herself that she was not forced aboard the
Revenge
. She went willingly. The lady loves you, my son, and I am grateful for her devotion to you.”

“Mother!” Dariq cried, opening his arms to his beloved parent.

Saliha stepped into his arms and he hugged her fiercely. Then he held her away from him and stared intently at her. “Are you well? Has Ibrahim harmed you?”

“I am well, my son. Ibrahim needed me to lure you to Istanbul so he could kill you. He fears you—fears your power as his only living brother.”

“I have no interest in the sultanate, Mother. I am happy as I am. It was never my intention to seize the throne from my brother.”

Saliha searched his face. “This woman, this Lady Willow—she is special to you, is she not?”

Grasping his mother’s arm, he led her away. The crew was becoming too interested in their conversation. “Come, we will discuss this in private. I will deal with Mustafa later.”

Once they reached the privacy of his cabin, Dariq began pacing.

“You are troubled, my son,” Saliha observed.

Dariq spun on his heel, his expression fierce. “I am not troubled, I am furious. I was betrayed! Held prisoner in my own seraglio while Willow was taken from me and given to a man I cannot abide.”

“You must love the lady a great deal.”

“I … cannot explain my feelings, Mother. They are still too raw. Did Mustafa not tell you I intended to return Willow to her father and offer myself to Ibrahim instead?”

“Ibrahim seemed quite pleased with Lady Willow.”

A low growl rose up from Dariq’s throat. “The bastard! If he hurts her, I will kill him.”

“Kamel and Ali Hara will protect her.”

“Can they keep her from Ibrahim’s bed?”

Saliha’s silver eyes mirrored Dariq’s sadness. “That is something I cannot promise.”

“Willow is mine,” Dariq snarled. “After I made her mine, I realized I could not part with her. The dilemma I faced was heart-wrenching. I had but two choices. Carry out my original plan to trade Willow for you, or abandon you to Ibrahim’s caprices. My third and final choice was to sacrifice my own life for the two women I love and admire above all others.”

“Mustafa told me you found Lady Willow aboard a Turkish ship bound for Istanbul,” Saliha confided. “She was already destined for Ibrahim’s harem when you took her off the ship.”

“Yes, I finally had someone Ibrahim wanted enough to trade for you. And then …” He turned away, unable to continue.

“And then you fell in love with her and could not bear the thought of Ibrahim bedding her.”

“I suppose,” Dariq allowed.

“What do you intend to do?”

Dariq looked at her as if she were mad. “I am going after Willow, of course. Do I have any other choice? Willow would wither and die hidden behind the walls of a harem.”

“What if Ibrahim has already taken her to his bed? Would you still want her?”

“What a silly question, Mother. I will always want Willow, regardless of what has been done to her. She is mine,” he repeated fiercely.

Saliha rose and placed a hand on his arm. “You go to your death if you return to Isbanbul.”

Dariq sent her a grim smile. “Not if I use stealth and cunning. I am not without resources.”

Tears moistened the corners of Saliha’s eyes. “I fear I will never see you again, my son.”

“Pray to your God, Mother, and if He wills it, we will meet again. Meanwhile, you will sail aboard the
Hunter
to my stronghold and wait for my return. You will want for naught there.”

“How do you intend to enter Istanbul without being recognized?”

“I plan to anchor in a small secluded cove south of Istanbul harbor. I have friends in a village nearby who will lend me a horse and anything else I might need. From there I will make my way to the city.”

“I will pray for you, for I know you will not be dissuaded. Go find your lady, my son, and God protect you.”

He kissed her cheek. “I have unfinished business to settle with Mustafa first. As long as you are praying, pray
that I can hold my temper long enough to speak coherently. What I really want to do is wring his ugly neck.”

“Mustafa is the best friend you have ever had,” Saliha scolded. “He would give up his life for you.”

“He took something from me that I value more than my life or his,” Dariq shot back. Then he turned on his heel and stormed out the door.

Dariq found Mustafa leaning against the rail, staring at the
Hunter
as she rode gracefully alongside the
Revenge
.

“I am taking charge of the
Revenge
,” Dariq said without preamble. “You are to accompany my mother to Lipsi aboard the
Hunter
. Stay there until I return.”

Mustafa spat out a curse. “Fool! You will die. What you are attempting is impossible.”

“My life is my own to do with as I please. Do not discredit my cunning, Mustafa. I intend to bring Willow and myself safely back to Lipsi.”

“And if you do not return?”

Dariq stared off into space. “Then you and the Brotherhood will go on without me, and you will protect my mother until the end of her days in reparation for your betrayal.”

“What I did was not betrayal. Protecting you has been and always will be my duty.”

“Now you have a new duty.” Dariq turned to leave.

Mustafa drew himself up to his enormous height. “I will not leave you, my prince. Where you go, I will follow. I will protect you with my life as I have always done. Others can protect your mother.” He poked his chest with a thick finger. “
I
will stay with you.”

“After what you did, how can I trust you?”

“I did naught but what your lady wanted. She wanted your death no more than I did.”

“You should have denied her!” Dariq shouted. “Willow is a woman, with a woman’s compassion. She sacrificed her own life to save mine.”

“Ibrahim will not harm her.”

“How can you say that with any certainty?”

Mustafa smiled. “My time in Istanbul was not wasted. I learned that the bulk of Ibrahim’s army is fighting in Poland. The war to conquer countries in the north is not going well. The seers say defeat is inevitable, and predict the end of the great Ottoman Empire as we know it.”

Dariq stroked his chin. “Interesting, but I have little faith in seers or their predictions. Besides, what does that have to do with Ibrahim’s interest in Willow?”

“Think about it, Prince. Ibrahim has been meeting daily with the Grand Vizier and members of his war council, often long into the night. How much energy can he have left for his concubines?”

“If Ibrahim’s army is defeated, his future will be dark,” Dariq said thoughtfully. “I will consider this news when I formulate a plan to rescue Willow.”

“I will see Saliha Sultana safely aboard the
Hunter
and return. If you are bent upon this disastrous course to rescue your lady, I will attempt to redeem myself for what you perceive as my betrayal.”

Dariq searched Mustafa’s face. Since Dariq had escaped Ibrahim’s devious plan to end his life, Mustafa had never left his side, never given Dariq a moment’s doubt about his loyalty. Until now. Mustafa had nearly destroyed a friendship of long standing. Grudgingly, Dariq admitted that Mustafa hadn’t betrayed him; he had simply tried to protect Dariq in his own way.

“Could I refuse you even if I wanted to?” Dariq asked. “Nay,” he answered his own question. “Like a dog with a
bone, you will not give up. Doubtless you will find a way to follow me even if I send you away.”

Crossing his arms over his burly chest, Mustafa grinned. “You will not be sorry, Prince. I will always be with you to protect your back. I know I have offended you and ask your forgiveness; I did not realize how much the woman meant to you. If we do not succeed, we will die as we have lived … together.”

“No one will die,” Dariq said fiercely. “I will fetch my mother and make her comfortable aboard the
Hunter
. Then we shall sail for Turkey.”

Willow lived in fear every day she remained in the harem. She might have a month’s reprieve from Ibrahim’s bed, but his concubines did not welcome her. They viewed her as a rival for the sultan’s affections and made her life miserable. Hetice, the harem mistress, assigned her the smallest cubicle in the vast warren of rooms that made up the harem. If not for Kamel, who maintained order with an iron fist, and Ali Hara, her self-proclaimed protector, she would have not lasted a fortnight.

One of the things that Willow learned was that poison was readily available, and that Ibrahim’s favorites often died under mysterious circumstances. Of the thirty women in the harem, Willow trusted Umma the least. The fiery, dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty aspired to become Ibrahim’s first wife and eyed the competition with mistrust and hatred.

Willow’s blond hair set her apart from the other women, most of whom were daughters of pashas and high-ranking officials who wished to gain favor with the Ottoman ruler. Despite the sultan’s numerous concubines, he had sired no children.

Ibrahim’s childless state caused a great deal of turmoil within the harem. Each woman wanted to be the first to give Ibrahim the heir he desired. That woman would be elevated to the honored position of wife, a highly coveted status within the harem.

Willow was pacing her tiny room when Ali Hara arrived with a tray of food. “I tasted everything myself and watched it being prepared,” the eunuch said as placed the tray on a low table. “ ’Tis neither foul-tasting nor poisoned.”

Willow sent him a wobbly smile. “I do not know what I would do without you, Ali Hara. My month of reprieve is nearly up. What am I to do? My link with the moon has been broken; my courses have not arrived, and you know what that means. Hetice will tell Ibrahim, and disaster will follow.”

She gazed longingly out the window. “I knew before I left Lipsi that there was a chance I carried Dariq’s child, but I was willing to tempt fate for Dariq’s sake.”

Ali Hara stroked his smooth chin. “Kamel and I have already discussed such a possibility. We’ve decided that one of us should cut himself and stain your clothing with blood. When you ask Hetice for cloths, she will tell Ibrahim. Twill gain you a few days reprieve, at least.”

“I need more than a few days,” Willow lamented.

“Listen carefully, lady,” Ali Hara whispered as he checked the door to see if anyone was listening. “Ibrahim is upset over losing Poland. He meets long into the night with the Grand Vizier and war council. Perchance matters of state will take precedence over bedding you. But if they do not, you must go to the sultan when he sends for you.”

“What?” Willow cried, aghast. “I will die if he touches me.”

“You will die if you refuse him. Kamel and I will do
what we can to protect you, but no one defies Ibrahim.” He glanced at the closed door and lowered his voice until Willow could barely hear him. “
He
has arrived.”

“Who has arrived?”

“Prince Dariq.”

“Oh, no! How could he be so foolish? Please tell me he is not in Istanbul.”

“Not yet, but Kamel’s cousin received word that his ship is docked in a secluded cove south of the city.”

“What does he hope to gain by coming here?”

“How can you ask that question, lady? He has come for you.”

“Does he not realize that death awaits him here?”

“A man in love follows his heart, not his head.”

“Love? Dariq doesn’t love me. He has spoken no words to indicate that he has such strong feelings for me.”

“A man willing to sacrifice his own life for a woman does so out of love, just as you were willing to sacrifice yourself for love. Think about it, lady.”

Willow did think about it, and Ali Hara’s deduction made sense, but she dared not pin her hopes on Dariq’s ability to rescue her from a harem guarded by armed janizaries.

“Tell Kamel I wish to send a message to Dariq. I do not want him risking his life on my behalf. I can endure anything as long as I know that he lives, and that his mother is safe.”

Ali Hara bowed. “I will do as you ask, lady, but my prince will do as he wishes. Now, give me one of your garments.”

Willow chose a skirt from a chest and handed it to the eunuch. She winced when he raised his sleeve and used her fruit knife to cut into his flesh, smearing blood onto the delicate cloth.

“I will inform Hetice that you need supplies for your personal care,” Ali Hara said as he used a napkin to bind his arm and pulled his sleeve down to cover the minor wound.