Читать книгу The Royals Collection - Ким Лоренс, Rebecca Winters - Страница 73

CHAPTER TWELVE

JAZZ WAS OUT of bed at dawn and pacing restlessly. Her wedding day. Her marriage to Tyr! She couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to believe it. Britt had texted to confirm the Skavanga sisters were on their way, so that was a relief at least. Having the Skavanga sisters onside equalled having the best support team ever in her corner. She had nothing to worry about, Jazz told herself firmly.

Except her wedding night tonight with Tyr.

Tonight was a long way off.

And Sharif?

She wasn’t going to think about her brother now.

And if Tyr didn’t turn up?

What if he left her to stew with all the wedding arrangements made and her family arriving? How many people would she let down then? And her heart would break. She loved Tyr. She had always loved Tyr, and even if this wedding was a sham, she was as excited at the prospect as any bride. She could weave a thousand fantasies about marrying Tyr Skavanga, but nothing could compare with the real thing, just so long as she didn’t think too much about the future. But would he turn up? Tyr was an adventurer by nature, always seeking the next horizon. Maybe he’d already left Kareshi. Tyr was loyal to her brother, but he was his own man—and, as Tyr had said, did she really know him now? The days of reading him easily were long gone.

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. The 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.