The Pirate Prince by Connie Mason Page B

graspedher shoulders and heaved her up until her feet were dangling inches above the deck. She looked straight into Dariq’s glittering eyes, and to her credit, she didn’t flinch.
    “By the beard of Allah, don’t you ever do as you are told?”
    “Sometimes I do, but only when it pleases me. Let me stay on deck, Dariq. I wasn’t bothering anyone, and no one paid me the slightest heed until you drew attention to me.”
    Dariq plopped her down onto the barrel. “Sit there and don’t move or say anything. I don’t want you getting in the way. Is that clear?”
    Willow smiled. She had won another concession, and each one was precious to her. “Perfectly.”
    Willow remained on deck, watching the activity until late afternoon, when shadows began to gather and she grew tired of her hard perch. Then she quietly returned to her cabin, pleased with her afternoon of freedom.
    Willow didn’t see Dariq again until late that night, when he tiptoed through the cabin to find his bed. He stopped abruptly beside her bed and stared down at her. Light from the guttering candle made the stark planes of his face appear dark and dangerous.
    “You must be exhausted,” she murmured.
    Dariq jumped away as if startled. “You should be asleep.”
    “Was the ship badly damaged?”
    “Nay. The repairs should take but a day or two.”
    “Were we blown off course?”
    “Mustafa said we were blown toward Lipsi, not away from it. We should see land in three days, barring another storm. It cannot be too soon for me. The
Revenge
has been at sea many months; the men miss their women.”
    He sat on the edge of the bed. Wary of his intentions,Willow scooted back. “I did not know your men had wives.” Somehow Willow couldn’t picture these fierce pirates with wives.
    Dariq chuckled. “Most of the men keep concubines. A few have taken wives from among Lipsi’s Greek inhabitants.”
    Willow could think of no response. “Good night, Prince Dariq.”
    Dariq stared at Willow several long moments before rising. “You are right to dismiss me, sweet Willow. Your next lesson in passion should take place on satin sheets, in a room that will complement your beauty. Sleep well.”
    Willow trembled at the thought of Dariq touching her again. How could she bear it?
    Land appeared off the bow three days later, just as Dariq had predicted. The
Revenge
entered a deep-water bay and sailed gracefully toward a long stone jetty, where a crowd had gathered to await the return of their prince. The deck bustled with activity as sails were furled and lines trimmed. Through an expert feat of maneuvering, the
Revenge
slid gracefully up to the jetty and dropped anchor.
    Willow spied two ships anchored in the bay a short distance from shore and assumed they were part of Dariq’s pirate fleet. A shout of welcome greeted Dariq when he appeared on deck.
    Not long after the docking, Dariq returned to the cabin. “Welcome to Lipsi,” he said. “I hope you will be happy here while negotiations with Ibrahim are in progress.”
    “I won’t be happy anywhere but home, but I will be glad to get off this ship.”
    “I sent one of my men to my seraglio for an aba. Assoon as you are properly covered, I will escort you to my home.”
    Willow balked. “None of the women I saw from the windows wore abas.”
    “Women on Lipsi are free to do as they please, but you are not. Do not argue, Willow, for this is the way it must be.”
    Willow hated the thought of wearing an aba but knew she could not avoid it. Dariq left, and a short time later Osman delivered the robe to her cabin, informing her that the prince awaited her on deck.
    Willow donned the robe, groaning as its voluminous folds all but swallowed her. She would surely die of suffocation before she reached Dariq’s seraglio.
    Willow exited the cabin, anxious to feel solid ground beneath her feet once again. Dariq was waiting for her. He grasped her elbow and escorted her down the gangplank onto the jetty. She wobbled