His Forbidden Diamond

by Susan Stephens

  The women of the village distracted her from her mixed-up thoughts. She could hear them gathering outside the pavilion, waiting impatiently for the moment when she invited them in so they could prepare her for her wedding day. It was hard not to be swept away by their enthusiasm as they crowded into the pavilion.

  She could do this! So long as she stuck to her original plan to ask nothing of Tyr.

  But what would he ask of her?

  Apprehension fluttered through Jazz at the thought that whatever Tyr expected on their wedding night, she could only disappoint him. But when she tried to imagine Tyr touching her, Tyr’s hands on her body, Tyr, the master of pleasure...

  Something of this excitement must have shown on her flushed face. The women had started giggling behind their hands, as if they knew what she was thinking. It was a relief to submit to the beauty treatments they had prepared for her and hope they would soon drop the subject, but it wasn’t long before they returned to their favourite topic.

  ‘But it won’t be a proper wedding night,’ Jazz was horrified to hear herself blurt out.

  ‘Who says it won’t be a proper wedding night?’

  ‘Britt!’

  Leaping off the cushions, she threw her arms around all three Skavanga sisters as they moved in for a group hug. Now she felt better. And worse. Better because three women she was coming to love had arrived, and worse because she hated deceiving them.

  ‘Why are you crying?’ Eva demanded in her no-nonsense way. ‘Do you want red, puffy eyes? This is supposed to be a happy time.’ This was followed by a big sigh and worried glances Eva exchanged with her sisters.

  If her eyes weren’t puffy before, they were now. Jazz bit back a laugh as Eva mopped her face vigorously with the sleeve of her rough cambric shirt.

  ‘Enough!’ Leila winked at Jazz. ‘We’re not here to administer exfoliation. We’re here to act as cheerleaders for the bride.’

  Having nudged Eva out of the way, Leila put her arm around Jazz’s shoulders. ‘Everyone gets emotional on their wedding day, and we couldn’t be happier that you are taking our brother off our hands. So don’t worry about it, because we’re all here to help.’

  But nothing got past Tyr’s oldest sister. Britt was staring at Jazz with concern, having sensed in a nanosecond that all was not well with the blushing bride, though to her credit, Britt kept those thoughts to herself.

  The sun was already blazing like a merciless brand in a cloudless blue sky as they got down to some serious wedding preparations. Why did time pass so quickly when you wanted it to drag? She wanted this. She didn’t want this. She was far too tense to enjoy the moment. She longed to confess everything to Tyr’s sisters and seek advice, but she could hardly do that. She couldn’t even be certain that she hadn’t driven Tyr away again. And how would his sisters feel about that, when they’d only just got him back?

  They would never forgive her, and she would never forgive herself.

  ‘So, you’re nervous about the wedding night?’

  ‘Eva, do you have to be so blunt?’ Leila reprimanded her.

  ‘Yes, I think I do,’ Eva insisted, circling Jazz like a mother hen.

  Jazz blenched at the thought of revealing her ignorance where matters between a man and a woman were concerned to the three Skavanga sisters, but the women of the village had left the tent to bring Jazz the precious wedding jewels they wanted her to wear, so there was nothing to stop Eva continuing her interrogation.

  ‘It’s a simple question.’ Eva paused. ‘I take it from your public announcement that you’re still a virgin, Jazz?’

  ‘And what a question.’ Leila showed her outrage on Jazz’s behalf. ‘Jazz, you don’t have to answer that.’

  Jazz forced a confident smile. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not going to.’ She added a laugh. But Eva was right. She was scared out of her skin. She didn’t have any sexual experience, and, with only old wives’ tales to go on, her expectations were hardly encouraging. So here was her dilemma: if Tyr did turn up, she would be afraid of the thought of their wedding night. If he didn’t turn up, it would be an unmitigated disaster all round, as well as a tragedy for his sisters, who had only just got used to having him around again. And she would be the cause of that disaster.

  ‘Well, she either is a virgin or she isn’t,’ Eva insisted stubbornly, without the slightest hint of remorse as she helped herself to a giant-sized lump of honeyed halva. ‘There is no in-between. And if the answer’s yes, then all I’m saying is that I’m prepared to offer a few useful tips.’

  Britt responded calmly. ‘Thank you for that insightful comment, Eva, but I really don’t think this is the moment for a session of your helpful hints.’

  ‘Eva, can’t you remember how you begged us for peace and quiet on your wedding day?’ Leila asked. ‘Don’t you remember how hard it is to remain calm while everyone’s adding their own piece of advice? If you must pace up and down the tent munching and scowling, why don’t you at least make yourself useful? You could go and find the henna lady to find out how long she’s going to be.’

  Eva’s face fell and she stopped pacing immediately. ‘Jazz, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’

  Leaping up, Jazz gave Eva a hug. How she longed to ask Eva for some much-needed help so she could get through the ordeal of the marriage night ahead of her, but how could she admit to being a virgin, let alone explain that she was likely to remain a virgin long after tonight?

  ‘I’ll go with Eva to help find the henna lady,’ Leila offered tactfully, sensing Britt would like some time alone with Jazz.

  The moment the cover was over the entrance, Britt asked Jazz the one question she’d been dreading. ‘What’s wrong, Jazz? Can you tell me?’

  Jazz heaved a long sigh. It was so tempting to tell Britt everything. She had often longed for a sister to confide in, but Britt ran a company and had Sharif to consider. Did Britt need anything else to worry about? ‘It’s nothing. Just pre-wedding nerves.’

  ‘Well, they’re understandable,’ Britt agreed, and then she smiled. ‘I saw the connection between you two at the party, so I’m not really surprised. But I have to admit I didn’t see this coming. Not so fast, anyway.’

  No wonder! ‘Neither did I,’ Jazz admitted truthfully, feeling ten times worse at having to hold things back from Britt.

  ‘I hate to think of you having an accident, but if that tumble from your horse got you two together, it certainly saved a lot of time.’ Britt laughed, and then grew serious again. ‘If anyone can get my brother to stay in one place, it’s you, Jazz. So thank you. I really mean that. And, if it helps, I think you two were made for each other.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Britt insisted. ‘Fate clearly brought you two together.’

  How temptingly close that fantasy version of events seemed now.

  ‘Where is Tyr? Have you seen him?’ The anxious words spilled out of Jazz’s mouth before she could stop them.

  Britt reassured her with a smile. ‘Don’t look so worried. Tyr’s riding with Sharif. The way you look, anyone would think you expect him to leave you standing at the altar.’

  I couldn’t blame him, Jazz thought as she forced a laugh. ‘Was he in a good mood?’ She asked the question casually.

  ‘What do you think?’ Britt arched a brow.

  Good question.

  If Tyr and Sharif were riding together, they must be concocting some sort of plan to get Tyr out of this, Jazz concluded.

  ‘Jazz?’

  Hearing the note of concern in Britt’s voice, she refocused. ‘Wedding nerves. I must stop fretting.’

  ‘Indeed you must,’ Britt agreed, throwing a thoughtful look her way.

  Could it possibly have been a more beautiful evening? Jazz wondered as she stood outside the pavilion with Britt, waiting for everyone to return. T
he great bowl of the sky provided a violet backdrop for the moon, which was hanging like an ivory swing suspended on moonbeams surrounded by stars. Lifting her face, she closed her eyes and told herself she was going to marry Tyr Skavanga. Now, if that wasn’t the stuff of dreams—

  Except this had the potential to turn into a nightmare.

  An hour or so later, and the wedding party with Jazz at the head of it was ready to leave the pavilion. The front entrance had been opened up, and a vast, jostling crowd had gathered outside to throw petals that had been brought all the way from Skavanga in Jazz’s path. Nothing about this celebration smacked of a rushed wedding. Quite the contrary. Thanks to the hard work of Britt, Eva and Leila, together with all the women of the village, she was going to have the fairy-tale wedding she’d always dreamed of, and one Jazz guessed would be remembered for generations to come in Wadi village.

  Lifting the hem of her floating chiffon skirt, she could hardly believe she was on her way to marry Tyr. Her heart was singing even if her hands were trembling. She led the way out of the pavilion, followed by Britt, Eva and Leila, who were acting as her bridesmaids. She whispered her thanks as Britt pressed a bouquet of Arctic roses into her hands. She wanted to tell all three of Tyr’s sisters that she couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t loved their brother, but she couldn’t say something that would paint a false picture of this wedding. She had never been more grateful for a veil to hide her mixed and tumultuous feelings. Secured with a glittering diamond tiara studded with the now famous blue-white diamonds mined exclusively at the Skavanga diamond mine, her veil was a fall of Chantilly lace, sprinkled with diamonds and seed pearls that flashed in the light of a thousand torches as she walked along the sandy path to the man she had loved all her life.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything more beautiful,’ Leila said as she walked behind Jazz.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll deduct the cost from Tyr’s next dividend,’ Eva joked. ‘Why are you shivering, Jazz?’ Eva added, catching up with Jazz. ‘You’re not sickening for something, are you?’

  Lovesick? Heartsick? Any one of those would do. ‘I’m just not used to such a fuss,’ she fudged.

  ‘Then you should be,’ Eva insisted. ‘You’re a princess, after all.’

  ‘Every bride’s a princess on her wedding day,’ Leila agreed.

  Jazz shivered again as she touched the cold white stones in her tiara with her fingertips. ‘But here’s one bride who doesn’t deserve all this attention.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ Eva insisted. ‘Every bride deserves a fuss on her wedding day. And you can always give the tiara back when you’re finished with it,’ Eva joked. ‘In fact, you can give it to me.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Eva, will you stop teasing Jazz?’ Leila cautioned as she came up on Jazz’s other side. ‘Can’t you see she’s not in the mood?’

  The crowd fell back as they sat Jazz on a camel that had been specially shampooed for the occasion. It was caparisoned with handwoven wedding finery, heavily embroidered with silver thread and tinkling bells, and its swaying gait would announce Jazz’s arrival long before Tyr could see her. A collective sigh rippled through the waiting crowd as Jazz drew close to the wedding arbour, which had been decorated with colourful desert flowers. Some of the villagers had climbed up the palm trees to catch a better view of her, and she waved and smiled to them, wishing she could live out their fantasies for her with Tyr.

  Tyr. Surely he’d turned up, or someone would have stopped the wedding procession, wouldn’t they?

  Her gaze found him immediately and relief flooded through her, swiftly followed by the most excitement yet. Dressed in a plain white robe that outlined his impressive frame, Tyr was the only person not looking at her when she arrived. He didn’t even glance her way when the boy leading her camel gave it the instruction to kneel, and then helped her to dismount. Perhaps Tyr had persuaded himself that if he didn’t look at her, he could preserve the illusion that this was just a bad dream.

  And then he turned and it was as if the air had been sucked from her lungs. The look he gave her was devastating. She could almost convince herself that Tyr really did want to marry her.

  A great roar rose from the crowd as Sharif left Tyr’s side to escort Jazz under the wedding arbour.

  ‘Brother.’ Dipping into a low curtsy brought on another loud cheer.

  ‘You look very beautiful, Jasmina,’ Sharif commented as he brought her to her feet in front of him.

  Jazz met her brother’s keen stare steadily. Everything was going to be all right. She had to believe that, though she couldn’t help wondering what the two men had been discussing during their ride. It was too late to ask Sharif now, and she could only be grateful to Britt for smiling reassurance at her as Sharif gave Jazz’s hand into Tyr’s keeping.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SOMETHING HAPPENED WHILE she was standing beneath the wedding arbour alongside Tyr. The turmoil inside her settled and she was filled with a deep sense of calm. Tyr was so strong and true, it was hard not to react that way to him. And he was as passionate and as committed to Kareshi as she was. And though he hadn’t wanted this marriage, she had been a fool to doubt he would turn up. Tyr would never flinch from duty any more than she would.

  But forget duty. She loved him. She loved Tyr with all her heart, Jazz thought as she stared up at the magnificent Viking at her side. She had always loved Tyr and she always would.

  ‘Do you take this man...?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her answer was unhesitating.

  ‘Do you take this woman...?’

  ‘I do.’

  Tyr’s voice was firm and low and measured. It was the type of voice that inspired confidence. And it did, inside her. Was she fooling herself? She hoped not, for, against all the odds, she sensed they both knew that what they were doing was right.

  Loveless, maybe, but right, Jazz told herself as the formal part of the ceremony drew to a respectful close, and Tyr, who was now her husband, led her carefully down the steps.

  * * *

  Could anything be more romantic? If the night sky had been magical, surely the setting for their wedding feast could not have been more beautiful? The temperature was perfect with just the slightest breeze to play with Jazz’s veil. She was seated alongside Tyr on a bank of silken cushions arranged on a priceless rug. They were seated well apart in accordance with tradition, and they hadn’t spoken a word to each other since exchanging their vows. This was the expected behaviour of a new bride and groom in Kareshi, but Tyr had certainly taken to the detachment with ease. He was unemotional to a fault, his expression composed, but distant. Until he turned to her and her stomach lurched.

  ‘Would you care for some fruit, or some Arabian coffee?’

  She tried to detect some warmth in his voice, but it was the same neutral tone Tyr had used throughout the wedding ceremony. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, Jazz reminded herself, every bit as much as any marriage she might have made to a stranger. She accepted fruit and coffee, knowing she’d taste neither. A young boy stood beside her, waiting to peel the fruit for the bride, should she wish him to, but neither he nor Tyr spoke another word to her, not even when she thanked the boy for filling her jewelled goblet with juice.

  She was invisible. She should have been used to this public treatment of a royal princess of Kareshi, but her country’s traditions had never seemed quite so draconian before. Because she had dreamed of laughter and intimate glances on her wedding day, secret smiles and potent stares connecting. She’d been to weddings where the fingertips of the bride and groom had touched briefly. Accidentally on purpose, Jazz had always thought, and the air around the newly married couple had sizzled with expectation and suppressed passion. That was what she had dreamed of for her wedding day.

  Was it a dream too far? she wondered, risking a glance at Tyr. For all the attention this
groom was paying his bride, she might as well have married the Emir of Qadar.

  No!

  This was nothing like marrying the Emir of Qadar. If she’d married the emir, she would only ever have been able to look at Kareshi over her shoulder. This was infinitely preferable to that. And Tyr was a prince in every respect. Tyr inspired people. Tyr got things done. Tyr was the love of her life. If only this could have been the fairy-tale wedding of her dreams, they might have accomplished so much together.

  This was not a fairy-tale wedding and she would not deceive herself into believing it was. She hated deceiving everyone else, for as lovely as they’d made this evening for her, she couldn’t wait for it to end so she could be alone with Tyr, and they could sort this out.

  Alone with Tyr?

  Jazz’s mouth dried at the prospect as she glanced at the mountain of muscle beside her. Did she really want to be alone with Tyr? Alone in bed with him?

  Alone in bed with both of them naked?

  ‘Did you say something?’

  She looked up as Tyr spoke. Her cheeks flamed with heat when she realised that she must have exclaimed out loud with apprehension.

  ‘No. Nothing.’

  She pinned a small smile to her face to reassure him. How could she admit that she was terrified at the thought of being alone with him when they’d known each other all their lives?

  Anxiously, she began to twist the simple platinum wedding band Tyr had placed on her finger. How disappointing he would find her. Tyr was so vital and masculine, while she knew nothing about physical love between a man and a woman. She had hoped the first time would be special, and not painful, as she’d been told it could be, but beyond that—