The Pirate Prince (Pirate's Booty Series, Book Five) (4 page)

“A vengeful one,” he answered in anger, his hand clamped to his bleeding arm. “And it would do you and your serving women well to remember that.”

“You are a barbarian,” she snapped. “I shall regard you as a man who deserves no respect.”

“Look upon me as you wish, princess,” he answered from between stiff lips, “but be sure you must obey my commands. Need I tell you, you are my prisoner and I’ve not yet decided if I will ransom you for a great sum of treasures from my brother’s coffers, or if I will take you as my own bride.”

Her eyes widened and she shivered. Her face was pale, but her expression was fierce and he found himself admiring her courage.

“You’ve found her,” Kalari exclaimed, returning to the cabin then spying Rajak’s injury, he hooted with laughter. “I see she is a tiger with sharp claws, my friend. Are you sure you want to claim a woman like this?”

Azara raised her head and glared at him.

“Allah, be praised, she’s a beauty,” Kalari breathed. “She will be worth the taming.”

Azara opened her mouth to deliver a stinging rebuke, but Oma whimpered and hid her face against Azara’s bosom, so Azara contented herself with a glare to both men.

“Take them aboard ship,” Rajak ordered and left the cabin. His shoulder had begun to ache and he needed to have it attended to. He would deal with the she-cat princess and her servant later.

She should be frightened, she realized, but she wasn’t. A strange excitement pervaded her very being. Why it should be, Azara wasn’t sure. Perhaps it was the hunger she saw in Rajak’s eyes when he looked at her. That should have frightened her more, but it hadn’t. The lessons Hasna had taught her empowered her. A man who hungered too much was a man who showed his weaknesses, and a weak man could be manipulated and controlled.

Still, the lights in his dark eyes sent shivers through her body. What was she to do about that she wondered then remembered Hasna had taught her how to handle that, as well. A woman did not give way to her own feelings, no matter how much she might long to. She must think every moment what was required of her and how she might turn it to her advantage, no matter how handsome the man. So, armed with the only real weapons a woman possesses, her mind and her body, Azara boarded Rajak’s ship and was shown to an officer’s quarters, which had been turned over to her and her entourage.

The ship was not unlike the one she’d just left. As elegant as her father’s ship, but filled with more men—men who looked at her with the same hungry lights in their eyes. That gave her pause until she remembered that Rajak was once a prince destined for the Peacock Throne and as such, would be obeyed by his loyal crew.

Holding her head high, she followed Oma to her new cabin and glanced around. Her chests had already been placed there. Even as she walked about checking that all had been brought aboard, she heard the order given above to cast off. At once, she left the cabin and climbed the stairs to stare at her father’s ship. Rajak saw her and came to her side. She expected nothing else of him.

“You must go below, Princess Azara,” he said. His voice was low and even, with no hint of command. Perhaps he wasn’t meant to be a ruler and it was right that Mohan sat on the throne.

“Do you intend to sink my father’s ship?” she demanded as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Have no fear of that, princess. The ship is far too fine to be destroyed. I will add it to my fleet.”

“Your fleet?” She looked at him with an arched eyebrow. “How would a pirate acquire a fleet of ships?”

A smile curved his chiseled lips, and his eyes flashed as they met hers. “Forgive me, princess, but even a child as protected as you must surely understand how a pirate acquires his ships.”

Angry color surged to her cheeks. “I am not a child, and even a scoundrel such as you are must know I am a princess of age and on her way to her bridegroom.” So saying, she whirled on her toes and descended to the lower deck and to her quarters.

“Are you all right?” Oma asked, hurrying forward to greet her. The other women crowded around her.

“You must not go on deck, Your Majesty. It is not safe,” one of the women cried, her eyes wide, her hands fluttering.

“They are evil men, and they will do evil things to you,” cried another.

“Or perhaps not so evil, but surely forbidden for a princess who is betrothed,” replied another.

Azara looked into the bold knowing gaze of Hestia, the spy her father had sent with her.

“All of you would do well to remember we are captives of pirates, and we have no guarantee how honorable they will be with us. They have been long at sea and their needs for women are overdue. Take great care and don’t go above board without being accompanied by Oma.”

The women laughed.

“What good will such an old woman do against such lusty men?” Hestia asked.

The others exclaimed excitedly. Their faces crumbled as if they might break into tears then flushed avidly at the thought of their adventure.

“Be sure to cover your faces when you go on deck and take whatever weapon you have hidden about yourselves,” Azara stated. “And do not encourage any of them, not by a glance or word. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, princess ,” they answered, all save Hestia, who met her gaze mutinously.

“My task is to spy for your father. I cannot do that unless I go among the men,” she stated adamantly.

“Then go at your own risk,” Azara snapped and turned away. She didn’t like the girl and counted Hasna’s advice not to trust the woman as valid. A deep weariness passed through Azara.

“Send them away,” she told Oma. “See that they’re well settled.”

Oma bowed slightly and shooed the chattering women from the room. Alone, Azara looked over her surroundings and found it to her liking. There were books and charts on the massive desk that took up one end of the large quarters. She looked through them, marveling that man could make his way over the oceans of the world by looking at the stars. There was much she had not learned in her father’s palace. She felt a surge of excitement for her present predicament. She’d longed for an adventure and now she was caught up in one, involving a handsome pirate prince.

She felt little fear. She sensed he would take care of her and her servants and none of the atrocities of which her women had spoken would occur. He seemed a gentle man in spite of his barbaric calling. Could she really blame him, given his throne was taken from him and he was, no doubt, in danger of losing his head? She pushed the thought away.

“Do not pity them,” Hasna had advised. “If you do so, you will entangle your heart and no longer be in control.”

So be it. No pity for deposed rulers and their hapless plight.

At the thought of Hasna, a memory of all the shocking secrets the courtesan had taught her heated Azara’s cheeks. She’d been surprised, no, amazed at the variety of sexual intimacy. The positions alone had made her laugh, but Hasna had remonstrated her. A man liked variety, and she must be prepared to do all she could. Still, the thought of nearly standing on her head and bending in such outrageous positions caused her to giggle behind her hand until even Hasna had smiled and admitted some of them were ridiculous and nearly impossible for the human body.

Azara had a sudden image of Rajak maintaining some of those positions with his strong, slim body and her body pulsed with a sudden need she’d never experienced before. Hasna had told of these feelings, but Azara had not understood.

“Do not worry about it now, little princess,” Hasna had said. “One day, if you are very lucky, you will know a man and he will make you feel these things.”

The words rang in Azara’s head so she came to a sudden halt in her pacing, her eyes widening, her lips forming a perfect round of consternation. Not Rajak, she thought. He was not to be her husband. Mohan was, and she should feel this way only toward him. But Mohan was not here, Rajak was, and she had to depend on him for her protection. She must put aside whatever attraction she felt for him. To act on these feelings would brand her an adulterous woman, and she could be put to death. She must heed all of Hasna’s warnings and protect herself.

* * * *

Azara spent the following days in the cabin, not even going above deck when her women went to get air and exercise. During her days, she was able to control herself and her thoughts of Rajak, but at night, her dreams of him were vivid, causing her to writhe on her bed and awake flushed with her throbbing muscles clenched in a paroxysm of ecstasy that embarrassed her and made her long for more. She wondered what it’d be like to reach such heights of pleasure in Rajak’s arms. Hasna’s words came back to her. A woman should not concentrate on her own pleasures but those of the man. Only in that way could she control the relationship between herself and her husband.

She thought of Mohan. That is the man she must concentrate on, she scolded herself, for he would be her husband and only through him could she gain great power. That was truly what women must seek, Hasna had explained. Love was a luxury women couldn’t afford, a fairytale, for no such thing as true, selfless love existed except between a mother and her child and even then it was questionable at best.

These insights puzzled Azara. She knew Oma loved her and she loved Oma, but she was always uncertain about her mother’s feelings, which seemed to center around her father. Her father, in turn, took her mother’s adulation as his due and paid her little attention except at state affairs and even there if a pretty face caught his eye, he felt no hesitation to flirt outrageously and leave the salon with a woman other than her mother on his arm. Many times, Azara had seen her mother turn away in tearful humiliation. So she’d come full circle then. Hasna’s words were true. Her thoughts turned to Rajak and her heart hardened to him.

Chapter Four

“Land, ho,” came the cry from the crow’s nest.

All the men rushed to the rail to see for themselves. Even Rajak turned hungry eyes to the smudge of land on the horizon, the first of the islands that ringed Madagascar. Within a fortnight, they’d reach Port Dauphin. Though he’d grown used to life aboard a ship, he’d not come to enjoy it. He much preferred firm earth beneath his feet and broader places to roam than a ship’s deck. Now he thought of the lush greenery of the island, the sweet water of its streams and the palace he’d built high above the brawling pirate village and its minions. Ocean breezes cooled him, exotic birds called from the swaying trees and perfumed scents wafted from the tropical forests. His life was not unpleasant. Still, he was restless, in need of his life back the way it was meant to be. He was a shah, not a pirate.

The fact that his brother sat on his throne rankled more than anything else. Rumors of Mohan’s excesses and his laziness in defending his borders, of his self-indulgences and his failure to take care of his people, came to Rajak, further galvanizing him to anger and unrest. If things continued, the kingdom would suffer beyond repair.

“Pah!” Rajak said, turning away from the ocean and glancing along the deck.

A radiant patch of color caught his eye. Princess Azara had come on deck with her ladies and the old crow of a servant, Oma. His men had long since given up their quest to see land and were intently watching the women who lined the railing dressed in bright silks made brilliant in the sunlight. The wind blew against them, alternately billowing the delicate garments and plastering them against their bodies. Rajak could almost hear his men salivating but didn’t rebuke them. His own gaze was pinned on Princess Azara. She stood braced against the ship’s roll, her legs slightly apart, her face turned to the ocean breeze. The wind tangled in her veil, unraveling it from her head so her hair blew free, blue-black and glossy in the sunlight. Her silhouette was easily revealed from her delicate features to the shape of her breasts and thighs. The silk bunched against her crotch, causing his mouth to water. How could such a small, dainty woman be so desirable? She was little more than a child, but he knew that wasn’t true. With the help of one of the amir’s women, he’d been allowed to observe the princess when she rose from her bath and he’d seen she was unblemished and perfect in her form. But more than that, her hips and breasts had revealed she was a woman—full grown.

She turned to clear the wind-blown hair from her face and caught him staring at her from the top deck. Her look of abandoned ecstasy was replaced with a frown of annoyance. She drew herself up and wrapped the silks about her securely, even covering her hair. Sharply, she called to her serving women, and they clustered around her so all he could see was the top of her head.