Читать книгу The Royals Collection - Ким Лоренс, Rebecca Winters - Страница 63

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.’

‘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.

Tyr’s life experiences had changed him, Jazz realised as she stared at him. There were shadows behind his eyes and deep lines furrowing Tyr’s strong face. Whatever her pledge regarding friendships with men outside the family, her heart went out to him.

And bounced when Tyr glanced at her.

It was as if he could feel her interest.

Her cheeks burned as she turned away. Surely Sharif had explained to Tyr that she might be working, and have all the outward appearance of being an independent woman, but she was bound by her duty to Kareshi, and was only marking time until her brother could arrange an advantageous marriage for her—advantageous for Kareshi, that was.

‘Skavanga is so glamorous these days, isn’t it?’

Thankful to be distracted, she turned to smile at the elderly woman standing next to her. ‘This is my first time in Skavanga,’ she admitted, ‘so I only know what my brother has told me about a place he’s come to love.’

‘Before diamonds were discovered in the family mine,’ the same woman continued, ‘Skavanga was just a tiny mining town beyond the Arctic Circle, scratching a living as best it could, but now our town glitters as brightly as the precious stones your brother mines. We have Sheikh Sharif to thank for playing a major role in the consortium that saved us.’

‘You’re very kind, but my sister-in-law, Britt, Sharif’s wife, has always been the driving force behind the Skavanga mining company.’

The older woman stared at Jazz approvingly as she stood on tiptoe to confide, ‘I’m surprised those three powerful men didn’t run Britt Skavanga out of town.’

Jazz laughed with all the other women at this reference to the three ambitious men who had formed the consortium that saved the mine. ‘I hardly think my brother would run his wife out of town. He adores Britt. And though it’s true the consortium provided the funds to mine the diamonds—without Britt?’ Jazz shrugged.

‘Britt Skavanga has always been a brilliant businesswoman,’ another woman confirmed, smiling at Jazz.

‘And now the brand Skavanga Diamonds is an international household name,’ the first woman supplied with admiration in her voice.

‘How can you all bear to talk business when Tyr Skavanga’s home?’

Jazz stared at the pretty young woman who had just spoken up, and couldn’t help noticing that the girl was staring at Tyr.

‘You must be as excited as I am,’ the girl said as she glanced around their group. ‘The marriage market has really opened up again. Don’t you agree, Princess Jasmina? Have you had chance to speak to Tyr Skavanga yet? I know your brother, His Majesty, and Tyr used to be close friends.’

‘They’re still friends.’ Jazz confirmed this pleasantly, knowing that it shouldn’t grate to such an extent to hear Tyr discussed so openly when he was such a private man. Why couldn’t she accept the interest of these women and agree with them?

‘Is that him over by the door?’ another younger woman who had just joined the group demanded.

‘How can you mistake him?’ the first one exclaimed with affront. ‘Tyr Skavanga is easily the best-looking man in this room.’

The latecomer frowned. ‘But I thought he was working rough in the desert?’

‘I think he might have had a shower since then,’ the old lady commented to general amusement.

Jazz couldn’t blame the women for being bowled over by Tyr’s compelling appearance. Dark and tall, he looked untouchable, yet commanding. Who wouldn’t want to know the secrets of a man like that?

‘He looks good for someone who’s been living like a nomad for so long,’ one woman commented.

‘Tyr has been working in the desert with the nomadic people,’ Jazz felt bound to explain. ‘The nomads have a very sophisticated society.’

The same woman feigned a swoon. ‘How romantic...billowing Bedouin tents, and long desert nights with a Viking warrior.’

By this time Jazz was tied up in a knot inside. ‘Tyr was in the desert building schools and looking for clean water sources.’

When everyone went quiet she could have bitten off her tongue. She hadn’t meant to sound preachy and spoil the fun, but to hear people talking about Tyr when they didn’t even know him, let alone the valuable work he was doing...

Tyr glanced at her and the world fell away. He would hate to think people were gossiping about him. And she had joined in, Jazz accepted as Tyr’s dark stare held hers briefly across the blurring faces of the crowd.

Sharif, who was as sharp as the ceremonial khanjar, the curved blade he wore suspended from the jewelled scabbard on his belt, missed nothing, and was instantly at her side. ‘Don’t you feel well, Jasmina?’

Touching her fingertips to her brow, she used Sharif’s reading of the situation to her advantage. ‘It is quite noisy, don’t you think? Perhaps I won’t stay long.’

She wanted to go almost as much as she wanted to stay. She didn’t know what she wanted to do.

She should do what was best, which meant staying for as long as politeness dictated and then leaving without drawing attention to herself in any way.

‘Just let me know when you’re ready to leave, Jasmina,’ Sharif said, reading her.

‘I will. Thank you.’ Gazing up, she touched his sleeve. Beneath his steely exterior Sharif was the kindest and most considerate man she knew.

‘And if you’re uncomfortable meeting Tyr, just let me know that too.’

‘I’m not uncomfortable. We were childhood friends.’

She hated deceiving Sharif, even in her thoughts, and had to take a few deep, steadying breaths. Had she really thought she could handle this?

Sharif’s hawk-like gaze flashed from Tyr to her. ‘Just so long as you’re all right with this, Jasmina?’

‘I am. Of course I am.’ But her lips felt as stiff as a ventriloquist’s doll. She had to face the truth. She couldn’t trust her feelings where Tyr Skavanga was concerned.

‘Tyr’s on his way.’

Sharif’s terse warning flashed through her, though she could feel Tyr’s approach without needing to turn and look. And then he was in front of them, just inches away.

Jazz remained frozen and stiff as the two men exchanged their customary bunched-fist greeting, then her brother stepped back and she was face-to-face with Tyr Skavanga. For a moment all she could do was study his face and log all the terrible changes, and then she remembered to breathe.