His Forbidden Diamond

by Susan Stephens

  ‘What do you think I’m going to do? We’ve been friends for most of our lives, Britt. I’m hardly going to leap on her.’

  ‘Just cool the friendship, and stay clear of Jazz, except for the most perfunctory greeting. Okay?’

  He raked his hair. ‘I can’t believe you’re serious. Is anyone allowed to approach the royal presence?’

  ‘Don’t mock her, Tyr. Of course they are.’ Britt fired a warning glance across his bows for making light of something that was obviously a great concern to her. ‘Jazz lives a near normal life in Kareshi. Sharif broke all the traditionalists’ rules by giving Jazz a job at his racing stables, where she’s excelled in management, but, more importantly, this has opened the floodgates for all the women of Kareshi to work, if they choose to do so.’

  ‘But?’ he prompted, homing in on Britt’s brief hesitation.

  ‘But it’s made Jazz more determined than ever to uphold tradition in other areas of her life, so that no one can find fault with Sharif’s decision to allow her to work.’

  ‘What does “upholding tradition” mean exactly?’

  ‘It means that Jazz believes Kareshi can only take one small step at a time, and if by staying in the shadows it means every woman in Kareshi has the right to work, she’s prepared to do that. We should admire her for that sacrifice.’

  ‘Her sacrifice?’

  ‘Kareshi has to be coaxed, not bullied, Tyr. Jazz understands this as I do. Freedom for women to work is the first big step. Freedom for unmarried women to mix openly with men without being shunned by society is the next. Kareshi will take that step, but Jazz is devoted to her people, and I think we can safely trust Jazz to know what’s best in this instance.’

  ‘To know what’s best for her, or for Kareshi?’

  ‘Don’t get so heated, Tyr. For both, of course. And please don’t scowl at me like that.’

  ‘You’re right, and I apologise.’ Britt had done too much for him for him to sound off at her like that. ‘I’m still trying to get my head around the feisty girl I knew becoming some sort of reclusive woman.’

  ‘So you didn’t shut yourself away from those who loved you?’

  Trust Britt to point that out. He forced a smile over his concern for Jazz. ‘Point taken.’

  ‘Be happy for her, Tyr. Jazz is a wonderful young woman with the strongest sense of duty where Kareshi is concerned, something I know you can relate to. It makes sense that she doesn’t want to cause ripples on the pond.’

  ‘It makes sense to you maybe,’ he agreed, ‘but Jazz is my friend, and I’m going to see a lot of friends tonight and I’m going to treat them all the same.’

  ‘Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?’ Taking his face between her hands, Britt stood on tiptoes to kiss him on both cheeks. ‘Now, there are some people outside that door who have waited a long time to give you a big, sloppy welcome without the rest of the world looking on.’

  His spirits soared with expectation. ‘Eva and Leila are here?’

  ‘With their husbands—I didn’t think you’d mind, seeing as Roman and Raffa are your closest friends?’

  ‘I don’t mind at all.’ He was looking forward to it, and his cynical self reassured him that if he kept it light they wouldn’t see anything in his eyes except the happiness a reunion like this would bring.

  His middle sister, Eva, was the first into the room, changing the dynamics completely. Eva lived up to her bright red hair with the sharpest tongue this side of a scalpel, and the long space of time since they’d seen each other hadn’t dulled Eva’s approach. Standing back, she weighed him up. ‘You look every bit as formidable as I remember, warrior-boy.’

  ‘I could crush you with one finger, squirt.’

  Fists raised, they squared up for a mock fight, and then, bursting into tears, Eva launched herself at him. Pummelling him with her tiny fists, she raged in a shaking voice, ‘Don’t you ever do that to me again. Do you hear me, Tyr?’ Pulling back, she stared at him with furious eyes. ‘Don’t you ever disappear out of my life again without at least having the courtesy to leave me the keys to your muscle car.’

  Laughing, he embraced her. ‘Promise,’ he murmured softly as he kissed the top of her head.

  Eyes softened with tears, Eva pulled back to stare at him. ‘You’ve no idea how we’ve missed you, Tyr.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’ How much, they’d never know. ‘I can’t imagine how I survived all that time without the three of you nagging me.’

  As Eva roared with pretended fury, Britt walked to the door and swung it wide. ‘Leila!’ He was ready to catch his youngest sister and swing her round. Thankfully he stopped in time. ‘Wow. You are pregnant.’

  ‘Bowling-ball pregnant,’ Leila confirmed, laughing and crying all at the same time as they embraced.

  ‘But you look as beautiful as Britt warned me you would.’

  Leila huffed a laugh as she stood back. ‘If you like waddling hippos, I’m your gal.’ She stared at him intently for a moment. ‘I can’t believe you’ve come back to us.’ His sister’s eyes filled with love and concern. ‘But life’s taken a bite out of you.’

  ‘Enough.’ He straightened his jacket. ‘We’re going to a party, aren’t we?’

  ‘We mustn’t keep our guests waiting,’ Britt agreed, exchanging a look with him as she held the door.

  Linking arms with his two younger sisters, he urged them out of the room.

  * * *

  For the first time Jazz could remember, Sharif hadn’t shown impatience with her when she wasn’t ready to leave for the party at the same time as him and Britt. ‘No hurry,’ he’d soothed with a smile. ‘Just call me when you’re ready and I’ll come back for you.’

  At the time she’d been flapping over what to wear. This might seem like a storm in a teacup to the average bystander, but, when you chose not to socialise in mixed company, it was hard to know what high society in a bustling mining town like Skavanga would expect of a very conservative princess of Kareshi.

  ‘Your smile,’ Britt had told Jazz in her usual down-to-earth way, insisting Jazz must show her face on this occasion. ‘You don’t have to take the traditions of Kareshi to the nth degree when you’re staying with us in the frozen north.’

  ‘But if I were photographed—’

  ‘The people of Kareshi could only be proud of their princess. Seeing you with your brother, surrounded by a family who loves you both so much, how could they not be proud of you, Jazz?’

  Britt was always hard to argue with, and on that occasion impossible, though Jazz had had to wrestle with her inner demons before she could agree to showing her face in public. Her parents had abused their privilege and neglected their people, leaving Sharif and Jazz in the care of a succession of nannies while their mother had flaunted her beauty on a world stage. Sharif and Jazz had grown up sensitive to the rumblings of discontent in their country, so that when the time came for Sharif to inherit the throne he had moved as quickly as he could to turn the super-tanker round and establish a fair rule so he could make their country safe. Sharif was good and strong and kind and wise, but their troubled childhood in a land of absentee rulers and rampant corruption had left Jazz determined not to cause any more upset, so, however free her spirit, in appearance she was always careful not to offend.

  ‘You should get out of Kareshi more,’ Britt had insisted when they had discussed what Jazz would wear for the party. ‘It would be good for your people, and good for you.’

  Jazz agreed, but Kareshi was steeped in millennia of tradition. Sharif had already given her a job at his racing stables, which had opened the floodgates for every woman in Kareshi to work, should they choose to do so, and Jazz wasn’t about to risk their freedom by pushing the traditionalists too far. And it was much easier hiding behind a veil than facing up to a night like this. Stari
ng into the mirror, she wished her heart would stop pounding. Her brother had already left with Britt, so Britt could enjoy a private reunion with her sisters and their long-lost brother, Tyr, at the Skavanga Mining company offices.

  Tyr.

  Jazz’s throat dried. She had always been excited to see the big Viking.

  But things were different now, Jazz told herself firmly. She was an adult with responsibilities, not a child who had plagued the life out of her brother’s closest friend. She had to guard her feelings.

  But Tyr was someone she could always depend on.

  Or he had been, until he’d disappeared.

  How she’d worried about him—wondered about him—prayed for him to be safe.

  And now he was back.

  What would he think of her? She was so changed, so solemn and so silent. She wouldn’t be playing any tricks on him today.

  And she wouldn’t be going to the party if she didn’t calm down.

  Taking a few steadying breaths, she closed her eyes and tried her hardest not to think about Tyr Skavanga. After a few moments, she gave up.

  * * *

  Tyr paused at the entrance to the hotel ballroom and smiled. ‘This is beautiful, Britt.’

  ‘No welcome banners,’ Eva complained, staring around.

  ‘No. It’s all very Britt,’ Leila commented approvingly, echoing his own thoughts. ‘It’s a really classy setting.’

  ‘For a warrior’s return,’ Eva said proudly, putting her hand on his arm.

  ‘For a homecoming,’ he argued gently.

  There was no doubt Britt had gone to a lot of trouble. The flowers in the tall vases flanking the easel to one side of the grand double doors were classic and white. The photograph of him Britt had chosen to prop up on the easel showed him laughing and relaxed before he’d entered the theatre of war, where his life had changed completely.

  ‘You look about twenty years older in real life,’ Eva informed him helpfully to a chorus of disapproval from their sisters.

  ‘Watch it, shrimp,’ he warned playfully, feeling his spirits lift to the point where he thought he might actually enjoy the evening. ‘Roman’s out of earshot, so you could be heading for a soaking in the chocolate fountain.’

  Eva gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Death by chocolate suits me.’

  ‘Come on, you two, stop squabbling,’ Britt insisted, pulling the big-sister card on both of them.

  He walked ahead of his sisters into the lavishly decorated ballroom with its Gothic curlicues and massive, glittering chandeliers, and the first thing he saw when he entered the room was Jazz.

  CHAPTER TWO

  HOLY CRAP!

  Tyr’s heart banged in his chest when Jazz turned to look at him. It was as if some invisible electrical cord connected them. What was it he’d said so confidently to Britt only minutes before? I’m going to see a lot of friends tonight and I’m going to treat them all the same.

  Seriously?

  No one else stood a chance of top billing with Princess Jasmina of Kareshi in the room. Britt had been derelict in her description of this new version of the tomboy Jazz, who hadn’t just grown up, but who had blossomed like an exotic flower into the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Jazz’s new air of serenity intrigued him. It was as if she had created a role for herself that she was determined to play out to the full.

  He dismissed the new role Jazz had slotted herself into with a disapproving huff. She was avoiding the truth.

  A bit like him, then?

  Not a bit like him!

  Swiping his hair back, he turned his mind to the flash of fire he’d seen in her eyes when Jazz had first spotted him entering the ballroom. It reminded him of the days when Her Royal Cheekiness had used to goad him on every possible occasion. Level calm had returned to her eyes now that Jazz was concentrating on the group of women surrounding her.

  ‘Tyr?’

  He turned to look at Britt.

  ‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’

  There was always more to Britt’s questions than at first appeared, so he replied with caution. ‘I guess.’ His world was private. He’d lived alone for too long to share his personal feelings with anyone, even Britt. He should have known his sister didn’t need any conversational pointers to read him.

  ‘Don’t shake her up, Tyr,’ Britt implored. ‘Be mild-mannered around her. Don’t pull the marauding Viking act. Jazz is trying her hardest to play the conservative card, so that traditionalists aren’t rattled when Sharif makes sweeping changes for good in Kareshi.’ Britt shook her head for emphasis. ‘This evening is really hard for her, Tyr. Being out in mixed company, I mean. But Jazz needs this. She has such a free spirit—but you know that.’ Britt frowned. ‘She’s sacrificed more than we know for Kareshi.’

  ‘Her freedom?’ he cut in.

  ‘Tyr, please. Don’t make it any harder for her,’ Britt begged him with a restraining hand on his arm. ‘You, of all people, can surely appreciate the value of sacrifice. So just say hello, be polite and then back off. All right?’

  ‘Thanks for writing the script for me, sis.’ He raised an amused brow.

  ‘Just don’t mess with Jazz. She’s got enough to contend with.’

  ‘I’ve no intention of messing with Jazz, as you put it, but I’d have to be wood from the neck up not to respond to such a beautiful woman.’

  ‘Just keep your feelings under wraps, Tyr. Spare Jazz the heartache. She’s always been half in love with you. And you’ve been alone a long time, remember.’

  ‘Relax, Britt. I’m not that desperate. I haven’t exactly been a saint while I’ve been away.’

  ‘You can find love in all sorts of unexpected places,’ Britt agreed, ‘but I don’t think Jazz is looking for the type of love you’re offering.’

  He gave his sister an amused look. ‘I hope she isn’t looking for love at all.’

  ‘Why, Tyr?’ Britt’s stare pierced him. ‘Would you be jealous?’

  ‘Of Jazz’s suitors?’ He laughed that off. Offering Britt his arm, he led his sister deeper into the crowded room.

  ‘There are too many alphas in this room,’ Britt commented wryly as his sisters’ husbands Raffa and Roman waylaid him for a brisk man hug. ‘I may drown in testosterone.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll save you,’ Tyr offered as the men broke away to claim their wives.

  ‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ Britt murmured.

  When they drew closer to Jazz, Britt gave him a warning look and he squeezed her arm to reassure her. ‘I remember what you said. I respect Jazz. Always have, always will.’

  He didn’t hear Britt’s reply. The hubbub of excited guests rolled over him like white noise as he kept his gaze fixed on Jazz. Bathed in light beneath a huge chandelier, she was chatting animatedly to an admiring group of women.

  ‘No, Tyr.’

  He paused mid-stride with Britt at his elbow.

  ‘Don’t you remember what I said? Jazz is going to be heavily chaperoned tonight, and I won’t thank you for interfering.’

  The corner of his mouth kicked up. ‘You still think I’m going to leap on her?’

  ‘I know that look in your eyes. When Jazz marries she’s stated her intention to be pure.’

  He frowned. ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘You don’t put her in a compromising position. Go easy on her, Tyr. Jazz has barely left Kareshi since the day she was born. Coming to Skavanga is a big adventure for her.’

  ‘I’ve got no intention of spoiling anything for Jazz. If she has chosen to live her life according to the traditions of Kareshi, then I respect that.’

  ‘Good, because you might be the brother I adore, but if you hurt Jazz—’

  ‘You don’t have to say it, Britt.’

&nbs
p; ‘Don’t I?’ Britt followed his stare straight ahead to the slim, straight-backed girl wearing the long, concealing robes of Kareshi.

  * * *

  So much for her intention to live a chaste and pure life! Jazz’s intentions hadn’t changed, but her body was rebelling like you wouldn’t believe. Hyper-arousal was an involuntary reaction to a threat, and one glimpse of Tyr Skavanga was all it took to give her all the symptoms. Her muscles were primed for action, while she was tense and ready. Her heart was racing, and her breathing was hectic as adrenalin raced through her system, putting every nerve ending she possessed in super-receptive mode. The flight-or-fight mechanism common to all human beings, whether they were autocratic sheikhs, powerful Scandinavian warriors like Tyr or the highly protected sister of the ruling Sheikh Sharif of Kareshi, could not be controlled by force of will.

  But it must be controlled, Jazz determined, glancing at her brother to make sure Sharif had not noticed her response to Tyr.

  It wasn’t fear of Tyr Skavanga raising Jazz’s heartbeat as she continued to chat with the group of women surrounding her, but the excitement of rekindling a lifelong friendship with him that was as close to love as it could get. But they weren’t children any longer, and Jazz was an unmarried princess of Kareshi, which meant that to love a man outside the family, however innocent that love might be, was absolutely forbidden by the traditionalists in Kareshi. Sharif was a progressive ruler, but Jazz believed that things could only move so fast in a country mired in tradition, and only the fact that tonight was an unmissable family event had ensured her attendance at this party.

  She had spent so many years thinking about Tyr, however, that it was impossible to put him out of her mind now he was practically within touching distance. No one knew where Tyr had been for all these years, except perhaps for Sharif, who had been his closest friend since school, and who was as annoyingly silent as the Sphinx on the subject of Tyr Skavanga. They had both attended an elite military college, that much she knew, and then they had both joined Special Forces, where Tyr had been decorated for his courage, but then he’d disappeared. ‘Into the desert,’ Sharif had told her vaguely. Sharif would never betray a friend’s confidence, but had explained that Tyr was working on rebuilding and repairing infrastructure that had been damaged during the years of conflict before Sharif ascended the throne.