‘But you will,’ he said confidently, relieved that at least they were talking.
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Jazz admitted with a sigh. ‘But I don’t feel any different from anyone else. Except...’
‘Except?’ he prompted, angling his chin to stare into her eyes.
‘Except I think you should bow to me.’
She said this with all the old humour and, sitting back, Tyr laughed with relief to think the girl he used to know was still in there somewhere. ‘Now, why should I bow to you, Princess?’
‘Viking warlords need to be put in their place by a princess of the desert.’
‘And what place is that?’
Jazz’s cheeks flushed attractively with heat. ‘A dungeon, preferably,’ she said as if realising that this conversation had already gone too far.
‘But I didn’t think you were frightened of anything?’
She fixed him with an unwavering gaze. ‘You’re right. I’m not.’
‘So if there’s any little service I can offer you, at that time and that time only, I will be sure to bow.’
For once in his life he broke eye contact first. If any other woman had looked at him the way Jazz had so briefly looked at him, he would have anticipated a very different outcome to this evening. High time for a reminder that when it came to the mating game, Jazz was so innocent she didn’t know the rules.
But he couldn’t ignore her for long. ‘You look good, Jazz. Life is obviously treating you well.’
‘Very well, thank you,’ she said primly. ‘You look good too.’
He huffed with amusement. ‘There’s no need for you to be polite with me.’
As Jazz’s eyes clouded with concern, he warned, ‘Don’t get into it. This is a party, remember?’
‘A party in your honour, Tyr, so I’m afraid you have to accept that people care about you. I don’t suppose anyone knows how to behave around you when you’ve been away for so long.’
He sat back. He liked this new Jazz. She was as much of a challenge beneath that prim exterior as she had ever been, but he liked the wild child from the past better. This new version of Jazz was a tightly strung instrument that only played to Jazz’s self-imposed restrictive tune.
‘It might help if you talked about things that matter to you, Tyr, like the ideals you were fighting for.’
‘Like what?’ He tensed. She had hit a nerve. It was Jazz that had the problem, not him.
‘Like freedom, Tyr,’ Jazz said calmly.
‘Freedom?’ He laughed incredulously as he stared at her. ‘And what do you know about that?’
‘What do you mean?’ she protested. ‘I’m free.’
‘Are you, Jazz?’
She couldn’t meet his eyes, and then she whispered, ‘You always represented freedom to me, Tyr.’
‘I did?’ An invisible hand grabbed his heart. Years of feeling nothing had hit the buffers tonight, he realised, and all thanks to Jazz Kareshi.
‘You’ve always done what you wanted, Tyr,’ she explained. ‘You could go where you wanted, do what you wanted to do, when you wanted to.’
‘You can too,’ he insisted, staring hard into Jazz’s eyes. ‘This is the twenty-first century.’
‘Not in Kareshi.’ Jazz smiled. ‘And we should stop talking like this before someone takes a photograph of us having this conversation.’
‘Britt wouldn’t allow the paparazzi within a hundred miles of here,’ he reassured her as Jazz flashed an anxious gaze around.
‘Please don’t tease me, Tyr.’ There was real concern in her voice. ‘You’ve got no idea what it’s like for Sharif in Kareshi. He’s doing everything he can to help our people, but a strident minority still continues to rail against progress. I’m doing all I can to reassure that section of our society.’
‘Public opinion will do that,’ he argued. ‘Sacrificing yourself will hardly be noticed in the grand scheme of things, but your life will have been ruined—and all by you.’
‘And if I want to do this?’
When he remained silent, Jazz shook her head. ‘I should have known you wouldn’t understand. You’re too like Sharif. He says I’m going too far.’
‘Well, aren’t you?’ he cut in.
‘The two of you are as close as brothers,’ Jazz said, ignoring his comment. ‘You can both do as you like, when you like, and you take that right for granted, but life isn’t like that for me, Tyr. I’m a royal princess of Kareshi and I have a duty to uphold certain standards.’
‘And what does that entail?’ His heart was sinking even as he asked the question, because he knew Jazz’s answer would involve more sacrifice, more confinement, more restrictions. Basically a smaller life for Jazz, and, knowing her as he did, that felt like a tragic waste of life to him.
‘I’ll just have to see what the future holds,’ she said. ‘Sharif has been approached by the Emir of Qadar.’
He had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.
‘It would be a great match for me, Tyr. Our two countries share a boundary.’
‘A match?’ He looked at her disbelievingly. ‘As in marriage?’
Jazz blushed. ‘This is only the start of negotiations.’
He raised a brow. ‘So you’re a bargaining counter now?’
‘Of course not. Sharif would never marry me off to someone I couldn’t get along with.’
‘Get along with?’ He spat out the words like something nasty in his mouth. ‘Aren’t you supposed to love the person you marry?’
‘Love?’ Briefly, Jazz seemed bewildered by the concept. ‘I don’t even know him.’
‘Do you think this is wise?’
‘I’ve seen him.’
‘You’ve seen him?’ he repeated. ‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then.’
‘Don’t mock me, Tyr. This is our way in Kareshi.’
‘Freedom to love should be everyone’s way in every country of the world.’
‘But Sharif has already broken with tradition by allowing me to pursue a career, and sometimes you have to be content. I agree that by staying in Kareshi I could achieve a lot, but if by marrying the emir I can take some of the burden off Sharif’s shoulders—’
‘Sharif’s a grown man,’ he cut in, having heard enough. ‘Sharif is a proven ruler. What about your life, Jazz? What about you?’
‘Me?’
He didn’t know which of them was surprised more by his passionate outburst.
‘Kareshi is my life,’ Jazz insisted. ‘Anything I can do to help my country I’ll do gladly.’
‘You’re repeating yourself, Jazz,’ he said. ‘And if you really want to help your country, why not stay in Kareshi and work?’
‘But the emir... I agreed Sharif could meet with him.’
‘And you can stop him doing that in a few words.’ He fixed Jazz with a stare, which she avoided.
Heaving a sigh, she glanced around, presumably to see if anyone had noticed this heated discussion. ‘I don’t want to stop him,’ she admitted, leaning close. ‘If my marriage to the emir will benefit Kareshi, then that’s good enough for me.’
‘What you’ve just suggested is outrageous.’ He sat back. Subject closed.
‘Fine words, Tyr, but you weren’t born into the royal family of Kareshi. You’re free to do anything you want and I’m not. It’s that simple.’
‘Nothing is ever that simple.’ As he should know.
Grinding his jaw with frustration, he had to remind himself that this was a party, and that it was better for them both to calm down. At least for now.
CHAPTER FIVE
THERE WAS NO more chance to speak as Britt and Sharif had returned to sit at the table. In spite of his lifelong friendship with Sharif, he couldn’t believe his frie
nd was going along with Jazz’s crazy idea, or that neither of them could talk Jazz out of the narrow path she had chosen to follow.
‘Stop seething, Tyr.’
The sound of Jazz’s voice, low and urgent, made him turn to look at her.
‘You’re making me uncomfortable,’ she explained in an undertone, ‘and people will notice.’
‘You’re making me uncomfortable with all this talk of an arranged marriage to a man you don’t even know,’ he countered. ‘What makes you think you’ve changed that much, Jazz? When you were younger you would have laughed an idea like that out of court.’
‘Exactly. We’re both older now, and I’m in a position to do something to help my country by making at least one of our borders secure.’
Shaking his head to shut her up, he hit Jazz with a cynical look.
‘Allying our two countries will be good for Kareshi,’ she insisted.
‘But Kareshi is rich, since Sharif took over, and your brother is a wise ruler. Why the hell would he agree to sacrificing his sister for nothing more than political expediency?’
‘If he thinks it makes me happy—’
‘Ha! I can’t believe Sharif goes along with that.’
‘Tyr, please keep your voice down.’
‘Whatever you say, Princess, but I don’t think you’ve thought this through.’
‘I’m not going to argue with you. I’m saying this is how it’s going to be.’
‘What happened to the girl I used to know?’
Jazz threw him an accusatory look, but there was something in her eyes that suggested deep down she agreed with him. It was sad to think her stubbornness wouldn’t allow Jazz to admit she was wrong so she could put a stop to these crazy marriage plans.
Sensing something was going on between them, Sharif glanced round. Tyr exchanged a brief look with his friend, lips pressed down to express regret at the fact that this was one time when he couldn’t help Sharif out. Sharif shrugged. Jazz had always been stubborn. Once she got an idea into her head, they both knew she ran with it until Jazz, or the concept, ran out of steam.
After feeling nothing for so long, Tyr felt this urge to help Jazz overwhelming him. He would like to get very close indeed to Jazz Kareshi.
All the more reason to sit back and ignore her.
This was turning into one hell of an evening.
And it was about to get worse.
As he released a sigh of frustration, Jazz looked at him with something in her eyes that made his senses go into free fall. ‘Don’t play games with me, Jazz,’ he mouthed in an undertone.
‘I’m not playing games with you.’
So her eyes were playing games with him—her lips too. And flushed cheeks betrayed her more than any excuses she could give. The laws of attraction took no prisoners. Nor did they show concern for a self-contained warrior who’d had his armour split wide open tonight, or a conservative princess who had just rediscovered her wings.
‘Tyr.’
He glanced up with relief to see his sister Britt. Putting one hand on the back of his chair and the other on the back of Jazz’s chair, his sister bound them briefly. ‘How are you two enjoying the evening so far?’
You two? Should he tell her the truth and ruin Britt’s evening after all her hard work on his behalf? He was tense beyond belief, and Jazz was—Jazz. ‘I’m having a wonderful time. It’s been a great chance to catch up.’
‘Do you mean that?’ Jazz murmured when his sister had left them to rejoin Sharif.
‘I’ve learned a lot.’ Like Jazz’s freedom shouldn’t depend on some misguided idea of how she could best help her country.
‘Why are you staring at me like that, Tyr?’
‘Am I staring at you?’ He guessed Jazz would have to be contained in a hermetically sealed suit for him not to stare. In a traditional, slim-fitting ankle-length gown in a rich shade of midnight-blue, edged with subtle bronze thread, she was dressed perfectly to suit her character; that was to say, demure with a touch of fire. He’d like to see that spark inside her ignite. What would it take? he wondered. With her waist-length inky-black hair covered with a filmy veil, she looked stunning.
‘Tyr,’ she warned, staring down at her hands, ‘will you please stop staring at me?’
‘You can’t blame me for looking at the most interesting thing in the room.’
‘But I do blame you. I’m not a child, any longer. You can’t tease and flirt with me as you used to do.’ Jazz shook her head, making her filmy veil shiver. ‘Don’t you understand anything? Or are you intent on making my life more difficult?’
‘That’s the last thing I want, Princess, but it is usual to hold a conversation with the person sitting next to you at the dinner table.’
‘You’re impossible.’
Jazz whipped her head away so fast her veil slipped back. Before she could rearrange it, the soft nape of her neck was revealed as her hair swung to one side. The wave of disappointment that hit him when she quickly pulled the veil forward and that delicate sliver of naked flesh disappeared was a real eye-opener. He really did have it bad. And then Jazz proved his suspicion that the grit was still there when she stood to propose a toast. Raising her glass of juice, she turned to face Britt.
‘I would like to propose a toast of thanks to a wonderful woman and a dear friend: my brother’s wife, Britt. I want to thank you on behalf of everyone here for the work you’ve put in to make tonight such a wonderful success. I couldn’t love you more if you were my own sister.’ Emotion made Jazz pause for a moment as murmurs of approval rose around her. ‘The charity we’re supporting tonight means a lot to all of us seated round this table, and tonight is also an opportunity for us to welcome Tyr home.’
Tyr tensed as Jazz stared straight at him. This evening would be over soon, but something told him the repercussions from tonight would spread out like ripples on a pond and touch them all.
* * *
Even after a few days, it still felt strange being at home with his sisters after so long away. All four of them together at one time like this was practically unique, but Britt, Eva and Leila had put their husbands out to graze for the day so they could spend time with him—and with Jazz. At least, that was what they’d told him, but for the past half-hour they’d cut him out and talked exclusively to Jazz. And in ever-diminishing whispers that left him super-alert and ultra-suspicious.
‘You’re not supposed to be listening,’ Eva complained when he glanced up. ‘Get back to watching sport.’
Yes. He was the token man, allowed to remain in the same room as his sisters and Jazz, providing he took the lid off the nuts and poured the sodas for them. With his feet crossed on the coffee table and a bottle of beer in his hand, he’d been invisible up to this point.
‘Could you speak up?’ he requested dryly. ‘I’m having trouble hearing you.’
‘If you must know,’ Eva fired at him from her position at the head of the table, ‘Jazz is in a fix.’
‘A fix? What does that mean?’ He swung round to stare at Jazz.
‘It’s nothing.’ Jazz tried to brush this off with an airy sweep of her hand.
‘You’ve started, so you might as well finish,’ he observed dryly, noting her cheeks had turned bright red.
‘If you must know,’ Eva cut in, ‘Jazz has today received a formal offer from the Emir of Qadar.’
He groaned inwardly. Time had run out. In the interest of learning more, he acted dumb. ‘What kind of offer?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Eva exclaimed, glancing round the table. ‘I know you’re a man, but you must have some idea?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’
Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Eva—as he had hoped she would—hurried to fill in the details. ‘An offer
of marriage, dummkopf. And soon.’
Soon? He didn’t want to hear another word. He knew his face must be as black as thunder as he appeared to consider this bombshell.
‘The Emir of Qadar?’ he said at last, lips pressing down as he nodded his head, acting impressed. ‘Big country. Important title. That’s quite a compliment for Jazz, isn’t it?’
Britt put a restraining hand on Eva’s arm when she sucked in a breath.
‘Well, isn’t it?’ he said mildly.
Eva scowled, while Leila bit her lip, and Britt looked troubled. Jazz avoided his stare altogether.
‘Is anyone going to explain?’ he requested mildly, seething inside.
Eva took the bait. ‘May I?’ she said, looking at Jazz with concern.
Jazz shrugged and appeared resigned. ‘Go right ahead. It will soon be public knowledge, so, why not?’
Taking a deep breath, Eva stared into his eyes. She was sending him a strong message of sympathy for Jazz, along with an entreaty for him to do something the heck about it. ‘You might not think it such a compliment when I tell you that the emir has insisted on Jazz being a virgin when they marry.’
He exploded out of his seat, then remembered he was supposed to be acting out the concerned friend, rather than overheated would-be lover. Making a calming gesture with his hands, intended for himself as much as anyone, he turned to Jazz. ‘Forgive me, Jazz. This is none of my business, but I didn’t know men still made that type of demand on a woman. This must be hard for you, impossible to talk about with me around...’ He turned for the door, desperate to kick it in, or smash a fist into a block of wood.
‘No, stay,’ Jazz said quietly. ‘You might as well know everything.’
Too right. He leaned back against the door. ‘OK.’ He remained outwardly calm, while a firestorm of concern for Jazz kicked off inside him. What kind of Neanderthal was she planning to marry? And when had this been settled? Last he’d heard, talks between the emir and Sharif were just getting started.
‘Jazz must do what’s right for her,’ his peacemaking sister Leila insisted. ‘None of us has any idea what it takes to be a princess of Kareshi.’ Turning to Jazz, she added, ‘And we’ll support you in whatever you decide to do.’
His Forbidden Diamond Page 5
