The Sheik and the Siren (Elemental Series) Read Free

plugged by coarse wool. But he could hear every alluring beautiful, haunting note as a woman’s voice surrounded the air around him and about drove him from his mind.
    She sang about the water and of the life beneath the sea. She sang of a coral cave and something about a mystical, magical crystal dolphin. He took it all in and tried to remember every word. But he found it hard to concentrate, as the bulge beneath his tunic distracted him and all he could think of was that he had to get this siren of the seas into his bed. He needed to take her, and he needed her badly. On the deck. In the water. It didn’t matter where, but all he knew was that his body cried out to mate with her and he needed to go toward the sound of her singing. Nothing else mattered anymore but this – nay, nothing at all.
    He pulled at the ropes that bound him , unable to move, making him shout out in frustration.
    “Arrrgggghhh!” If he didn’t have her soon, he swore he would burst. And if Boots hadn’t tied him to the mast, he’d have dove in to the water by now and be swimming toward the rocky crags straight toward the sound of the siren and toward his death as well.
    “Show yourself !” He shouted at the top of his lungs. “Come to me, my siren of the sea. I hear your voice. I want you – I need you.” He looked toward the bulkhead of the ship but could see naught through the thick fog.
    The humid salt air weighed heavy on his lungs and he felt as if he could barely breathe. The winds had oddly diminished, and the ship barely moved now. All was silent – too silent around him and he felt as if he were in the eye of a very deadly storm. If he was to stay here, dead in the water and haunted by her alluring song much longer, he’d chew through the ropes just to get to her, he swore he would.
    Then he saw the oddest thing. A long line of dead fish, which the ship was about to cross over. And once the bow of the Paradigm crossed this line of death, a gale of wind blasted from nowhere, hitting the larboard – the loading side of the ship so hard, the masts and sails were nearly touching the water on the opposite starboard side. One more gust of wind and the ship shot forward, moving at a good clip straight through Death’s Door.
    The plan was now in motion and even if he wanted to, he could do naught to stop it. They were in Death’s Door now, with the song of the siren driving him mad. And he prayed he’d been accurate in plotting the course, because if not, he would have not only sentenced himself to death, but by his own hand he would have taken the lives of every man on his ship as well.
    Rain now pelted him in the face, his long hair whipping, and stinging him in the eyes. His hands over his head, he could do naught to stop it. And that damned siren’s song still floated on the breeze and e choed in his head, calling him closer . . . closer . . . to his death.
    Then, when he thought he would burst with want from a nymph he had never even seen, the sound of grappling hooks hitting the starboard side of the ship caught his attention. Someone meant to board. He couldn’t even believe this. How could it be true?
    Then, the hands and dirtied faces and bodies of a dozen broken men made their appearance as they hoisted themselves over the side rail and climbed aboard his ship. The men were scarred, obviously from a furious battle. Some were missing fingers, and one man was missing an entire arm. Several of them had eye patches and one was missing his leg from the knee down, a wooden peg tied to his stump in its place.
    “What is this?” he called out. “Who are you and what do you want?”
    They seemed surprise he was talking to them. Even more surprised he was tied to his own ship. That amused them and they laughed, taking wool from their ears as they scurried aboard.
    “You can’t do anything to stop us, you fool!” said one, picking up a skein of rope and ripping a canvas covering from over a barrel and tossing them over the