Capture My Heart

by Bobbi Smith

  When Serad finally addressed her, his voice was harsh and commanding. "Clean the cabin. I want it exactly the way it was when you were first brought here."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Clean the cabin? Victoria had been expecting the absolute worst and relief washed through her. She stared at him blankly for a minute, unable to believe she'd heard him right.

  "Move, woman!" Serad barked. He was in no frame of mind to continue this struggle of wills with her. In his mind, he had won and that ended it.

  The sharpness of his command compelled Victoria to move. Her feelings were a tumultuous mix of anger at being forced to do his bidding and ridiculous happiness at being let off so lightly. Picking up the mess she'd made in the search for the gun was hardly the punishment she'd imagined and her fears were eased a little. Though she had never cleaned up much of anything in her whole life, she hurried to do as she'd been told.

  Moving hastily about the small stateroom, Victoria grabbed up all the clothing she'd thrown so haphazardly out of the trunk. Serad's brooding gaze was upon her as she worked, and it made her decidedly uncomfortable. When he finally looked away and busied himself with something else, her nervousness at being so constantly observed faded.

  With her arms full of assorted discarded clothing, Victoria knelt beside the sea chest to begin putting everything away. She heard Serad opening a desk drawer but didn't look up. The less he noticed her the better as far as she was concerned. Only his loudly muttered vile oath shocked her into looking his way again. She glanced up to discover that he was trying to doctor his own injured arm.

  As if he noticed her sudden interest, Serad directed, "Come here, woman."

  "My name is Victoria," she said properly.

  "Victoria . . ." he said it slowly. "You would have the name suit you, but remember who the victor is between us."

  "It's not over yet."

  "It is over," Serad dictated with finality. "From now on I will call you Tori, also. Now, come here, Tori, and tend to your master's wounds."

  Tori bristled, but knew she had no choice but to obey. Laying his jumbled clothing aside, she rose and went to him. "What do you want me to do?"

  "I can't see it very well, so cleanse the cut and bind it tightly, but be careful that you don't cause me too much pain," he told her, his eyes catching and holding hers.

  For one heart-stopping moment, Tori stared into the depths of his now-stormy gray gaze and was held spellbound. The coldness and harshness was gone, and there was something reflected in his regard that caught her up and sent her senses spinning into confusion. The color of his eyes told her he was no naturally born North African, and she wondered where he had come from and why he'd become a pirate.

  Tori frowned as she knelt next to him. She didn't want to think about him or wonder about him. He was her captor, nothing else. She directed her attention to the deep, ugly gash on the back of his arm, but even touching the warm, solid flesh of his arm disturbed her. To cover her bewilderment, she spoke up sarcastically, "It's just a pity Capitaine Duval didn't lower his aim and move it more to the left."

  "So you would have preferred to see me and your wonderful Capitaine Duval both dead? That would leave you and your companion at the mercy of my men . . ." Serad was beginning to anticipate her biting remarks, and he was more than ready to counter them.

  "Surely, they're not as—"

  "As what?" he demanded. "Forgiving?"

  He turned in the chair to face her with the truth, and Tori found herself once again very aware of the overpowering maleness of him. They were barely a breath apart as he spoke, telling her what her fate would have been without him.

  "My men are controlled because I control them. They are pirates. Men accustomed to making their living by pillaging. They are used to being without a woman for months on end while they're at sea, but if the opportunity arose to have a taste of you, it would matter little to them that twenty men had gone before them or that there were twenty men left to come after. Even your precious defender, Miss Jones, would not be safe from their lust if it were given free rein."

  Tori couldn't prevent a gasp at the horrible reality he was painting for her with his words.

  "Now, unless you find that fate more appealing, I suggest you tend my arm and do a good job of it. I have no desire to die from an infected knife wound because you sought to finish with your doctoring what your precious capitaine wasn't able to with his blade."

  Shocked by his graphic truths, Tori wasted no more time, but began to thoroughly wash the painful cut. After applying the medicine he gave her, she bound it with a clean, wide strip of cloth. She was relieved when she did not have to touch him any longer.

  "There. It's done."

  Serad had remained perfectly still while she'd worked, and at her declaration, he flexed his arm to test it. The pain was still there, but it had lessened somewhat. "Has the bleeding stopped?"

  "Yes, but it could easily start again if you put any strain on it," she advised.

  He nodded and stood up. Taking the now-empty pistol with him, he strode to the cabin door. He looked at her for a moment, then dictated that she finish her cleaning. With that, he left, pausing only long enough to lock her in again.

  Tori stared at the closed door, and she wasn't sure whether she was more angry or frustrated. She had done what he'd told her to do, and yet there had been no word of thanks and no promises where Jonesey was concerned. Miserably, Tori wondered if she would ever see her friend again. Moving to the sea chest, she began to fold his personal things once more. For one vindictive moment, she considered ripping all his clothes to shreds, but she controlled the desire. Nothing good could be accomplished by antagonizing him further right now, and since she wanted to be reunited with Jonesey as soon as possible, she decided to do a good job of taking care of his things.

  When all his clothing had been neatly folded and packed away, Tori went to the desk to straighten all the papers and charts she'd thrown about in her search for the gun. Curiosity got the best of her as she stared down at the once-locked drawer, and she wondered what else he kept there. She opened it and went through the contents to find a miniature portrait of a blond-haired woman.

  For some reason, Tori was stunned by the discovery. She wondered who the pretty woman was. Safely placing the portrait back where she found it, she finished her cleaning and retreated from the desk to think about her find and to wonder at the woman's connection to her captor.

  Serad gingerly tested his arm again as he emerged up on deck. Finding that the bandage was still holding and that the bleeding had stopped, he went to join Tariq near the helm. Tariq saw him coming and smiled broadly at him.

  "There was shooting in your cabin?" he asked, and he enjoyed his friend's look of discomfort.

  "There was."

  "And?" he probed, wanting to hear the truth and not just the talk among the men.

  "As you underestimated the old woman, so I underestimated the young one. She's very proud, much like that Arabian mare I purchased several years ago."

  "Is she going to prove as hard to tame?" Tariq joked. "As I recall, the mare gave you a very difficult time . . . and she was unarmed."

  His taunts gained him a black glare. "The horse threw me only once. The woman will not try anything again."

  "Oh?" His dark eyes lit up with interest. "How can you be so sure? She sounds bloodthirsty to me. I'd watch my back if I were you."

  "That's what I have you for, my friend," Serad returned with an answering smile. "But there will really be no need. She had already accepted her fate. I'm confident she will cause us no more trouble."

  "Be careful, Serad. Remember your own advice to me."

  Serad knew Tariq was right, but he said nothing. He did not want any of his men to know the resourcefulness of his captive. It was enough that he knew. He would handle her. She was his.

  A sudden shout went up on the deck of the French ship. The crew of La Mouette had not yet been moved across to the Scimitar, and in a
desperate attempt to escape the miserable future the pirates had planned for them, several of the men rioted against their guards. Shots were fired and knives flashed in the brilliance of the afternoon sun as the corsairs brought the captives under control. When all was said and done, three men from Capitaine Duval's crew had been felled. A resigned acceptance fell over the vanquished. To stifle any further attempts at escape, they were quickly herded on board the pirate ship and taken belowdecks to be chained in the positions where they would remain for the voyage back to Algiers.

  It was many hours later when the last load of goods was transferred from La Mouette to the Scimitar. The order was given to cast off from the crippled ship, and Serad's men hastened to do so. Now that they had their bounty, they were eager to return home. The sails were quickly set and the pirate ship slowly moved away from the merchantman.

  "We won't be so fleet on the trip home," Tariq commented as he considered the wealth of merchandise they'd just taken aboard.

  "I'm pleased with our success, as Malik will be, but I regret losing the ship." He watched as they distanced themselves from the damaged boat.

  They said no more until the range was right, and then Serad gave the order for his men to fire a full volley at the vessel. The boom of the cannons rocked the Scimitar, and the pirates looked on as their captain made good on his promise to send the French ship to the bottom. The vessel splintered and slowly sank beneath the surface. Only flotsam and jetsam remained to mark the grave of the once proud La Mouette.

  Tori was tense as she waited for Serad's return. She had finished straightening the cabin over an hour before and now had nothing to do but think. Knowing she was trapped in the stateroom left her feeling quite helpless. Still, her indomitable spirit asserted itself. Just because Serad had overpowered her in physical ways didn't mean she had to surrender. She vowed to continue to battle him with the only weapon left to her—her intelligence.

  The hours dragged by. Tori found herself listening for her captor's footsteps so she could be prepared to face him when he returned. When the Scimitar's cannons roared to life unexpectedly, she was shocked. Her heart leapt to her throat as she imagined that the pirates were firing at another ship that was coming to their rescue. She waited breathlessly for the sounds of further battle and victory for her imaginary heroes, but no one came. Time passed and nothing else happened. Tori grew depressed as she realized that there would be no rescue. Whatever reason the cannons had fired, it hadn't been for that.

  The sound of the lock turning in the door startled Tori, and when the door opened she expected to see Serad there. To her surprise a man she'd never seen before came into the room carrying a tray of food.

  "I am Mallah. Serad Reis told me to bring this to you," the pirate announced.

  "He's not coming back?" she asked quickly, hopefully.

  The crewman gave a disinterested lift of his shoulders in answer to her question. He had no idea what his captain's plans were.

  Desperate for conversation and information, Tori asked him what the shooting was about.

  This he knew the answer to, but he kept his reply curt to discourage her from asking anything else. "The merchantman was too damaged to sail, so we sank her." He said no more, just placed the tray on the desktop and left.

  Tori heard the click of the lock again as she was once again entombed. She moved to the desk and took a few bites of the food, but her nerves were stretched so taut that the fare not only seemed tasteless to her, but her stomach rebelled.

  The day had been long and fraught with danger, and as darkness proclaimed the coming of night, Tori realized just how exhausted she was from the fight. Serad's bunk looked more and more inviting as she stared at it from across the cabin, and she almost wished she could go to sleep and wake up to find that it was all a dream.

  A sigh wracked her as she moved to the bed. The pirate had been gone for hours and it appeared he wouldn't be back any too soon. Tori knew she should rest now so she would be wide awake later when Serad returned. She touched the bed tentatively, and finding it soft and inviting, she lay down upon it.

  But sleep did not immediately come to Tori. Serad's presence was all too real to her as she lay in his bed. Surrounded by his things, she couldn't put him completely from her mind. She remembered the power of command he exuded and the feel of his stong arm beneath her hands as she'd taken care of his wound. She thought of how he could have killed both Capitaine Duval and herself, but had not, and of how he'd touched her so gently that one time. As elusive sleep finally claimed her, the image of the fair woman in the picture drifted through her mind along with a vision of her captor's gray eyes . . . and she wondered . . .

  Serad and Tariq stayed on deck until the Scimitar was well under way, then they went below to celebrate their success. They shared the evening meal together as they usually did, and it was quite late before Serad made his way back to his cabin.

  Earlier, Serad had ordered food brought to Tori, and he expected to find her well fed, awake, and waiting eagerly for him so she could do his bidding. He was looking forward to seeing just how submissive she had become.

  Serad had been thinking about Tori for most of the evening and had come to the decision that he would keep her for himself rather than ransom her back. Malik had been after him for some time now to consider taking wives and starting a harem, and though Serad knew he wasn't interested in marriage yet, he certainly would enjoy keeping Tori as an odalisque. He wasn't certain she would prove amenable to the plan, but he knew that ultimately her wishes didn't really matter. She had been obeying him without question when he'd left her, and he expected that to continue.

  When Serad reached the cabin door, he unlocked it and then pushed it wide, entering cautiously. He had not forgotten her resourcefulness. The interior of the stateroom was completely dark, and he moved slowly, ever alert for her possible attack. To Serad's surprise, there was no movement in the room, and for a moment, he almost feared she'd escaped. Only when he lighted the lamp did he discover his fear was unfounded. The plate of food he'd ordered for her was on the desk, looking mostly untouched, the cabin was spotless, and Tori was curled on her side on his bed, sound asleep.

  Serad walked silently to the side of the bunk and stood there staring down at his captive. She had more courage and inner strength than many of the men he knew. Yet, in her sleep, this English vixen looked the lovely innocent.

  Serad took advantage of the moment to study Tori. From the silky length of her shining, dark hair, completely loose now and spread seductively about her, to the crescent sweep of her long black lashes against her cheeks, she was flawless. She had a mouth that begged to be kissed and a body made to satisfy any man's dream of ecstasy. Serad found it hard to believe that this delicate sleeping beauty was the same quick-thinking, sharp-tongued female who'd caused him such aggravation earlier.

  Serad smiled at the thought of how Tori challenged him at every turn. Except for his aunt, he'd never met a woman who'd dared defy a man. He wasn't sure whether he liked it or not, but it certainly kept him from becoming bored with her.

  Serad continued to stare down at Tori, and an unfamiliar emotion stirred within the heart of him, a kind of protective possessiveness. He wondered at it, trying to understand what it meant, for if there was ever a female who didn't really need his protection it was this one.

  Tori stirred. Her sleep had been plagued by restless dreams of the terror of Serad's attack. As if suddenly becoming aware that someone was watching her, she came awake. Her emerald eyes opened to find her nemesis standing over her. Serad had an amused expression on his face and looked exceedingly virile and handsome. A jolt of awareness of him as a man shot through Tori, troubling her. Suddenly embarrassed at her own thoughts and at being found in such a compromising position, she immediately sat upright and glared at him.

  "You're back." She stated the obvious for she was furious with herself for having fallen into such a deep sleep. She'd wanted to be mentally sharp for him, not drowsy and
weak.

  "As I have every right to be," Serad responded casually, not making any effort to move away from the bedside. "This is my cabin."

  "Then take it and give me one of my own."

  "We will be sharing this cabin for the voyage to Algiers."

  "I would prefer to share a cabin with Miss Jones." She rose from the bunk and moved across the room to escape his nearness.

  "You should have thought about that earlier. I had intended to allow you to stay together."

  "If I give you my word that I will not cause you any more trouble, will you bring her back to me?"

  "You will not cause me any more trouble, regardless," Serad stated the truth, "for if you do, your companion will pay the price."

  "I see." Tori watched as he sat down upon the bunk she'd just vacated. "Will your men be bringing another bed in for me to use?"

  "Did you not find comfort in my bed already?" he asked with a slight smile.

  "By myself, yes. But if I take the bed, where will you sleep?"

  "I mean for us to share more than just the cabin . . ." His gaze was warm upon her.

  "I am on my way to London to marry my betrothed." It was as close to pleading as she could come.

  This news startled him, and for some unexpected reason, angered him, too. "You were. Now, you are my captive."

  Her brave front faltered. He had already proven that he could force her to do anything he wanted. She knew he could force her to do this, too. Tears filled her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.

  Serad witnessed the battle that was being waged within her, and suddenly his conscience, long silent, interfered. He grabbed the top blanket off the bed and tossed it to her.