Read Online The Pirate Prince (Pirate's Booty Series, Book Five) by Temple Hogan - Free Book Online

Heavy veils draped over their heads and were pulled across their faces, so only their eyes peered out.
    “I shall be sorry to reach the end of our journey,” Azara said and won a smile from Rajak.
    He hugged her tighter. “You will like my island home,” he said.
    “I like your ship,” she answered, meeting his gaze.
    His fingers grazed her cheek in a soft caress. After a moment, she turned back to the sea and the dark mound rising in the distance.
    “Madagascar.” Rajak affirmed her unspoken question. “Your life will not always be spent here. One day soon, if Allah decrees, I’ll have my throne back and our home will be in India.”
    “I’ll be happy here, if you are here,” Azara said, but she thought of the plans she and Hestia had made, plans to escape on one of the other pirate ships that would claim a prize for returning her to her father. Did she really want to go, she asked herself and knew the answer was not as it should be. Even Oma seemed infected by this new life they lived with a pirate.
    Two weeks had past since she’d been captured, but it seemed like two lifetimes. The nights had been filled with ecstasy such as she’d never dreamed. She and Rajak had practiced every Kama Sutra position Hasna had ever taught and some she had not. Rajak, she discovered, was an experienced lover. Part of her was jealous that he’d known other women in such intimate ways, while part of her was glad for his prowess.
    She put her thoughts aside as the ship arrived in Port Dauphin. She’d never seen such exuberant joy at the arrival of a ship, though there were many such vessels in the harbor. The wharf and areas in front of the warehouses were piled high with barrels and chests of goods. People lounged about, chatting. Sailors called ribald greetings. Women, dressed in the latest fashions from all countries, strolled along the shore, their bodies swaying provocatively. The women were of all colors, some black, some white and some half-caste. All were beautiful and as they moved seductively along their route, which would take them into direct contact with the sailors leaving Rajak’s ship, other men came to engage them in earnest conversations. Sometimes, money exchanged hands and the chosen woman strolled away on the arm of her eager client.
    The men were dressed in an assortment of styles, some in rich traditional Asian garments, some in formal European coat-tails as if about to attend a ball. Other men were simply dressed in pants and britches with hats of various kinds on their heads.
    “I see our carriage has arrived,” Rajak said. “We can disembark now.”
    Startled that the boat had already been secured to the wharf and sailors were unloading the rich goods, Azara followed behind him. Oma clucked at the other women, and they all fell into a line behind. When they reached the wharf, Azara was surprised to see that sudans—curtained platforms supported on horizontal poles—had already been arranged. Quickly, Azara and the other women were ushered into the traveling chairs and were carried at a rapid speed down the long wharf. Dismayed, Azara stuck her head out of the curtains and looked around. It seemed she was not even allowed to walk.
    “Rajak!” a woman called.
    Azara glanced at Rajak, who’s face was stern. He made no acknowledgement that anyone had hailed him but stiffly ordered the men to carry her to two closed coaches. Azara craned to see who had hailed him. She soon made out a woman dressed in a flamboyant European fashion, holding a colorful umbrella and wearing a large hat with many feathers. Even as Azara caught a glimpse of her, she stood up in the open carriage and once again called out to him in a clear, high voice.
    “Rajak! You are back, my lover! I have waited so long for you. I have missed my brave pirate prince.”
    Dull color flushed Rajak’s cheeks. He turned to Azara and bowed.
    “If you’ll excuse me, I will return. Basa will help you and your servants into the coaches.”