The Pirate Prince by Connie Mason Page A

me, sir. Prince or nay, no one has a right to my body except the man I marry, and then for the purpose of procreation only.”
    Dariq gave a bark of laughter. “Infidels have strange customs. They view their bodies as something shameful. I can teach you that bodies are instruments of pleasure as well as vessels for procreation. This I vow, sweet Willow. Before you leave me, you will be well versed in the many ways to give and receive pleasure, and you will enjoy every moment of the learning process.”
    “Go away! I refuse to listen to you. ’Tis Satan talking.”
    “You think me possessed by the devil?”
    “You
are
the devil.”
    “You know naught of devils, beauty. Ibrahim is the devil, not I. I do not envy you his attention.”
    “Why give me to the devil if you feel that way?”
    Dariq looked away. “There is no alternative. I am not the coldhearted bastard you think I am. With Kamel to look after you, you will survive. The one I hope to barter you for needs my protection more than you do.”
    “Who is Kamel?”
    “The keeper of the harem. He is the most powerful eunuch within the seraglio. He will teach you the ways of the harem and protect you. Your survival depends on how well you please Ibrahim. And you must try to make no enemies in the harem. I will explain all that you do not understand before you leave Lipsi.”
    Willow scooted out of bed and backed away from him. “I understand more than you think. Your culture imprisons women behind walls and makes them into playthings. I want no part of the sinful pleasures you described. I will not become a willing slave.”
    Dariq sighed. “You will do what you must once you realizethat your life depends upon Ibrahim’s whims; unfortunately, his whims can be capricious.”
    Willow searched his face. “What did Ibrahim do to you? Why are you a pirate instead of a pampered prince living in a palace?”
    His expression turned thoughtful. At length he said, “That, my beauty, is a story for another time. Perhaps ’tis better left untold.”
    He sent her a cocky grin. “One day soon, you will beg me to pleasure you.”
    “Not in this life,” Willow sniffed. “I do not intend to remain your prisoner. I am nothing if not resourceful.”
    A smile stretched his sensual lips. “I look forward to your resourcefulness, beauty. Meanwhile, after last night’s attack upon your person, I must insist that you remain inside your cabin unless escorted by either myself or Mustafa. You are to trust no one else.”
    “After my experience last night, I have no desire to venture outside my cabin alone.”
    “Then we are in agreement. As much as I would like to stay here and spar with you, I must see to Abdul’s punishment.”
    The cabin seemed much larger after Dariq left. His commanding presence filled the space with animal magnetism and made the cabin seem smaller.
    But Willow was no weak-livered female without a will of her own or a brain. Though she might wonder about and secretly long for those sinful things Dariq had mentioned, she had the will to resist his seduction and the gumption to escape when the opportunity presented itself.
    She had always believed she would marry a proper English gentleman, raise the children of that union and follow the strict rules of English society.
    Although that life sounded dull, Willow knew it washer destiny. A sudden thought occurred. Was boredom the reason her unconventional French mother had fled England after nearly fifteen years of marriage to a staid English marquis?
    Willow loved her father and her life in England, but during the time she had spent with her mother, she’d begun to believe that Frenchwomen were much freer than their English counterparts. Monique had begged Willow to remain with her, but Willow felt more connected with England than with France and had refused.
    Willow realized that her engagement to Percy would not result in marriage even if she was lucky enough to return to England, for the scandal of her