The Pirate Prince by Connie Mason Read Free Book Online Page A

victory. Once she learned Turkish, all kinds of possibilities would open to her. If she hoped to escape Ibrahim’s harem, being able to speak the language of the land would benefit her greatly.
    Willow nodded eagerly. “I shall look forward to learning your language. I bid you good night, pirate.”
    “You may call me Dariq.”
    “It pleases me to call you pirate.” Head held high, she turned on her heel and made her way back to her cabin with Mustafa following in her wake.
    After her nightly exercise on deck, Willow crawled into bed and fell asleep immediately. But she awakened in the middle of the night in a panic. She felt as if the cabin were closing in on her. Nightmares had crowded her dreams. She saw Ibrahim leering at her, his guards holding her down while he had his way with her. Stifling a scream, she jerked upright. She was shaking and sweating profusely. Fear of her fate loomed over her, large and uncertain.
    Willow rose stiffly; she needed fresh air to chase away the nightmares. She opened the door and was immediately buffeted by a freshening wind that rocked the ship and filled the sails.
    When she started to pull on the knit cap, an errant breeze caught it up and whirled it away. Deciding that darkness would disguise her hair should anyone be about at this time of night, Willow moved cautiously toward the railing. Raising her head, she closed her eyes and sucked in refreshing draughts of salt-laden air.
    A half-moon hung high in a star-studded sky, beaming down at her. She spread her legs against the motion of the ship and stared at the heavens, thinking she had never seen an English sky equal to tonight’s glittering display.
    Willow was so engrossed in gazing at the stars that she failed to hear approaching footsteps. She did, however, sense a presence seconds before a heavy hand gripped her shoulder. Whirling about, she went straight into the arms of a fierce pirate. He said something to her she didn’t understand. She shook her head and opened her mouth to scream for help.
    She caught the odor of onions and unwashed flesh ashis hand came over her mouth, stifling her cry. He crowded her against the rail, stroking her hair with his free hand. She struggled against the assault, but the pirate was huge and muscular, easily overwhelming her. His hand left her hair, tore open her shirt and covered her breast, kneading hurtfully with thick, blunt fingers.
    He spoke again, his voice as rough as the seas had suddenly become. Then she felt his hand work its way beneath the waistband of her trousers. Shaking her head from side to side, she tried to dislodge his hand so she could call for help, but he was too strong and determined.
    The ship gave a sudden lurch, and his hand slipped just enough for her to yelp. He growled in her ear and started to drag her into the shadows, where no doubt he intended to ravish her. When he found the place he was seeking, he lowered her to a coil of ropes and fell on top of her, stealing her breath. Her mouth was free, but she had no air left in her lungs to make a sound, much less scream.
    He clawed at her shirt, managing to bare her breasts to his filthy hands. She knew she would bear marks on her tender skin from his rough handling, but that was the least of her worries. Why had she come out on deck alone? Dariq had warned her about his men, and she hadn’t heeded him. If only he were here now.
    An enraged roar shook the air around her; it sounded like a wild animal about to pounce on its prey. Then her attacker was gone, flung away like a sack of potatoes, blood streaming from his mouth and nose. Dariq roared again; Mustafa came running to join him. After a few short, stabbing sentences from Dariq, Mustafa dragged the hapless pirate away.
    Willow was still fighting for air when Dariq picked her up and carried her back to the cabin. He laid her on the bed and turned away to strike a light to a candle. His face,defined in the flickering light, looked so fierce that Willow