‘I’ve been here long enough, Jazz. Your reputation is already in tatters.’
‘My reputation is shot,’ she argued. ‘You couldn’t have caused more of a sensation if you kissed me in public.’
He paused with his hand on storm cloth over the entrance. ‘Now, why didn’t I think of that?
‘Tyr.’
‘Next time I’ll leave you where I find you,’ he vowed before Jazz could get started.
‘No. You’d never do that. You always were the white knight, Tyr.’
Their eyes met and held a dangerous beat too long. ‘Not many people would call me that.’
‘No,’ she agreed, ‘they’d call you a hero.’
‘Leave it, Jazz—’
‘No. I won’t leave it.’ Her voice was every bit as loud and angry as his. Standing up, all five feet two of her bristling with pent-up frustration, she stood between him and the only way out. ‘One day you will tell me why you always avoid talking about the past.’
‘My past is none of your business.’
‘It is my business,’ Jazz said fiercely, ‘because, like my brother, I care for you, and I refuse to watch you suffer on your own.’
‘Maybe I want to be on my own,’ he fired back. ‘Believe me, Jazz, you don’t want to go where I’ve been, and you certainly don’t want to see what I’ve seen—not even in your head.’
CHAPTER TEN
IT WAS HIS turn to tense up when Jazz put her hand in his. ‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ she said. ‘You underestimate me, Tyr. You can tell me anything. Anything,’ she stressed.
‘Some things are best left unsaid, Jazz.’
‘I don’t agree.’ She shook her head and walked away a little distance. ‘If you keep all those ugly thoughts inside you they’ll just fester until they make you ill. Everything has to be faced at some point, Tyr. Look at me. I’ve made a mess of things, and now I’ve got to put them right. I haven’t a clue where I’m going to begin with this marriage nonsense, but I’ll sort it somehow.’ She sighed, but her compassion was all for him. ‘I can’t pretend to understand the enormity of the memories you’re avoiding.’
He said nothing.
‘And I can’t imagine what you’ve seen.’
Thank God for that.
Jazz’s gaze was unswerving. ‘I’m not going to stand by and see a friend in trouble without trying to help.’
‘I’m not in trouble.’ And he wasn’t into spilling the past as Jazz had suggested he should, but as she continued on he had a great sense of the girl he used to know returning, and that was the only news that mattered to him. The strong, practical, sometimes crazy, always feisty, dangerously impulsive girl he used to know was back, while the prim contrivance Jazz had turned herself into in the hope of reassuring one small sector of Kareshi’s population that not everything in their country was changing at breakneck speed had been forced to take a back seat. Great.
‘And as for that...’ She paused and bit her lip.
‘Marriage nonsense?’ he suggested.
‘You might not want to hear this, Tyr, but physical contact between a man and a woman in Kareshi can only mean one thing.’
He refocused on Jazz’s concerned face. ‘But there’s nothing going on between us, so everyone’s wrong.’
Jazz shook her head. ‘We can’t sort this out as easily as that. Whatever we know to be the case, those who would seize on anything in order to destabilise Sharif’s peaceful rule will refuse to be convinced. It doesn’t suit them. Can’t you see that?’
‘So, what are you suggesting?’
Taking a deep breath, Jazz braced herself. ‘It’s too late to save my reputation and I won’t risk either of us losing the trust of my people.’
‘We know that.’
‘So, it’s simple,’ she said. ‘We’ll get married, just like the headman said.’
He almost laughed. ‘That’s insane.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Jazz argued. ‘It’s a practical solution. And don’t look so horrified. We won’t be living as man and wife. There’ll be no passion involved. And we can still be friends.’
While he was still absorbing this ill-advised plan, Jazz came up to him and, standing on tiptoe, she brushed her lips against his cheek. ‘Friends?’ she whispered.
Her touch scorched him. Taking hold of her arms, he moved her back. ‘Don’t,’ he warned.
Needless to say, Jazz refused to be put off. ‘I promise I won’t tie you down, Tyr. You can leave Kareshi any time you want, and we’ll get divorced quietly at some point in the future when all the fuss has died down.’
‘Love’s young dream?’ He shook his head disbelievingly. ‘Jazz, you’ve come up with some madcap plans in the past, but this one is heading for the history books.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ she argued firmly. ‘We both trust each other to do what’s right, so this is the perfect solution. Don’t look at me like that. I have to do something, and this is the best I can come up with. The best for both of us. You don’t want to lose the people’s trust any more than I do. No one needs to know how we live out our private lives, and this way we can still live in Kareshi and work together.’
Holding up his hands, he stopped her. ‘I can’t believe you’re serious about this.’
‘I’ve never been more serious in my life. Can you think of a better solution?’
‘You bet I can. I leave now. And you leave the moment the storm passes over and the helicopter can get here to take you home. You get on with your life, and I get on with mine. Separately.’
‘I’m not leaving my people. And as far as we’re concerned, in their eyes the damage is already done.’
‘All I can see is you panicking, and proposing to go ahead with some mockery of a ceremony that’s supposed to convince your brother, my sisters and your people into believing you and I are intending to spend the rest of our lives together. I’ve backed some of your crazy ideas in the past, Jazz, but this is way beyond reasonable.’
‘Tyr. Come back here! Please, listen to me.’
He stared down at Jazz’s hand on his arm and she quickly removed it.
‘What do you suggest?’ Her voice was quiet, but her eyes were direct and unflinching.
He pulled away. ‘I don’t have to suggest anything. Nothing’s changed, as far as I’m concerned. The people of Wadi village accept me for who I am. They always have.’ Which was one of the reasons he’d stayed so long. No one asked him any questions.
‘But that will change now,’ Jazz assured him tensely. ‘You will never be able to work here again, because if you don’t marry me after spending so much time alone with me, the people you care so much about will shun you.’
‘Why would they do that, Jazz?’
‘Because in their eyes you will have disgraced their princess.’
With a laugh, he shook his head. ‘You make a great case, but I’m not going for it.’
She went rigid. ‘A great case? I hope you’re not sticking with the idea that I’m trying to trick you into marriage, because nothing could be further from the truth.’
‘I just know this crazy idea of yours is going no further. I will explain to the people of Wadi village that our relationship is nothing more than a friendship of long standing, and Sharif will understand.’
‘If we were in Skavanga, I might agree with you, but this is Kareshi and you have no idea how wrong you are.’
Firming his jaw, he turned away from her. ‘This conversation is over, Jazz.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ she warned with all the old spirit. ‘Don’t you dare mistake me for some spineless pawn who accepts whatever scrap you care to throw at me. I’m trying to do the best I can to repair the damage I’ve done. And, yes, I can stand up for
myself and I don’t need your help, but you’re involved in this whether you like it or not and you can’t just walk away. These are my people and you’re in danger of offending them, and no one loves these people more than I do. Yes, they’re flawed, but so am I. We all are. We’re human, Tyr, and flaws come with that territory. No one understands the people of Kareshi better than me. All I’m asking is the chance to continue working with them. I can see now that my idea to marry the emir to strengthen our borders and appease the traditionalists was a terrible mistake, but I’m not going to allow a second terrible mistake to ruin my chances of helping my people.’
‘Jazz, you need to sit down and think through things calmly,’ he advised, but even he knew it was too late for that.
‘I shouldn’t have been up there on the dune,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘If only I’d ridden a different way, none of this would have happened.’
‘So don’t pile another mistake on top of that one.’
‘How fortunate you are to be exempt from the shortcomings that afflict the rest of the human race,’ she called after him as he started to unbuckle the storm cloth.
The wind howled in and nearly knocked her over. He reached out to save her and Jazz grabbed hold of his arm. She was pulling at him with all her strength to keep him in the tent, and yelling at him above the ear-splitting howl of the storm. ‘Are you mad? You’ll be killed out there.’
‘So, what do you want me to do, Jazz? Spend the night with the forbidden princess? Will that help your cause? Well?’ he demanded, shouting in her face.
Jazz’s tears shocked him rigid. He’d done so many things that haunted him, and in the process had changed, or so he had believed, into another, callous and more dangerous person. He was a trained killer, a dangerous man, but right now he was only aware of a pressing need to reach out and help Jazz in every way he could.
‘Please don’t leave me, Tyr.’
Jazz’s voice was small and made the impulse to drag her close unendurable. Her quiet strength reached out to touch some hidden part of him. Relaxing his grip so the cover fell back into place, he secured it firmly, then, taking her hand as if Jazz were a child again, and he the youth who had always looked out for her, he led her back into the heart of the pavilion.
‘We will find a solution to this marriage problem,’ he promised, wondering for the first time in his life if he could keep his promise to Jazz. He had never let her down before, but this time maybe he would. She’d gone without so much in her young life, compared to the camaraderie he’d enjoyed with his sisters, and then, to all intents and purposes, he’d come along and stolen her brother away. ‘I owe you,’ he murmured, thinking back.
‘More juice?’ she suggested, her lips slanting in a small smile.
Her hands were shaking, he noticed, but she clasped them tightly round the goblet in the hope he wouldn’t see. He watched her gather herself in a way Jazz used to do as a child. She had always had a backbone of steel.
‘I owe you an apology, Tyr,’ she stated levelly, not disappointing him. Raising her head, she looked straight at him. ‘I got us into this mess and I couldn’t regret it more. I just get so frustrated sometimes, and I know I come up with some wild ideas—’
‘Wild?’ He relaxed. ‘You can’t go round kissing men and proposing to them.’
Jazz’s cheeks flamed red. ‘Yes, I know. I feel embarrassed about that. If I’d had my choice you’d have been a long way down the queue.’
He laughed, relieved to see her relaxing at least a little. ‘You’re a beautiful woman, Jazz. You don’t need to do any of that. And I’m not just talking about what the world sees. You’re beautiful inside, and you deserve better.’
‘Than you?’
‘Much better than me. And better than some emir you don’t even know. You’ll fall in love one day, and when that day comes you won’t want baggage. Believe me, I know all about that.’
‘You’re not married, are you?’ Her smile vanished.
‘Me? No. The women I meet have got more sense.’
‘I think you’d be a good catch,’ Jazz argued.
‘Do you?’ Once again they were staring at each other and all sorts of wicked thoughts were flying through his head, but best of all was the fact that maybe their friendship could move on now.
‘Why don’t you tell me about the baggage, Tyr?’
It had always been a mistake to relax around Jazz.
She stared at him in silence for a moment. ‘It’s another of those things you don’t want to talk about, isn’t it, Tyr?’
He shrugged. ‘You’ve known me most of your life, Jazz, but people change over time.’
‘So I’ll get to know you all over again.’ She met his stare steadily. ‘I don’t see anything different, Tyr. I just see you. And I’m not afraid of anything you have to tell me, but I think you are.’
‘Where are we going with this?’
‘If you point-blank refuse to tell me about your past, then all that’s left to talk about is you agreeing to marry me.’
She said this lightly as he raked his hair with frustration. ‘I thought you’d agreed we would forget that.’
‘You’re not making this easy for me, Tyr.’
‘Easy?’ He laughed. ‘Nothing about this situation is easy, Jazz.’
She huffed a smile. ‘Bet marriage was the last thing on your mind when you heaved me out of that sand drift.’
He slanted her an amused glance. ‘You could say.’
‘And now if you don’t marry me, I will be known to one and all as the disgraced princess of Kareshi. My people will never forgive you for that,’ she said, growing serious, ‘and neither will Sharif. He might be a forward-thinking leader, but he would never do anything to risk losing the hard-won trust of our people. I’m sorry, Tyr, but there really is no alternative—for either of us.’
‘Do you know how mad that sounds?’
‘Not mad,’ Jazz said sadly, ‘realistic. The emir won’t have me now, and neither would any other man in our world. I could run away and live somewhere else, I suppose, but I wouldn’t be much use to my people.’
For once he was lost for words. Finally, he said tensely, ‘Can you hear that?’
Jazz frowned. ‘Hear what, Tyr?’
‘Exactly.’ The wind had dropped. ‘The storm has passed over. People will be on their way round to check up on you very soon and you don’t want me here when that happens.’
‘It’s too late to worry about that, Tyr,’ Jazz assured him with a rueful smile.
Freeing the storm sheet, he stepped outside. Unfortunately, Jazz was right. He stopped short on the threshold of the pavilion as a group of villagers came up to him, wanting to know their princess was safe. He saw the exchange of glances when he tried to reassure them, then realised they assumed Jazz was safe because he had been with her throughout the storm. How could he betray these good people? He couldn’t indulge his wanderlust any more than Jazz could run away. He was definitely going to stay and see this out.
As he walked away, he could feel the villagers’ stares on his back. They weren’t hostile—quite the contrary. They seemed delighted by the developing relationship between him and Jazz. There was just one thing wrong with that. He didn’t want a wife, and the last person on earth he’d risk sweeping into his dark world was Jazz, though he could still feel the brush of her lips against his cheek, and the softness of her body beneath his hands. He would never forget how she’d trembled when he’d barely touched her, or her delicious scent that wound round his senses. He wanted Jazz in every way that a man could want a woman, but would he be forced into marrying her? That was too crazy to contemplate, and it wasn’t going to happen. There had to be a way out of this for both of them. And whatever that way was, he would find it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HE SPENT A r
estless night and was out before dawn the next day. He had to get out and think. He had to drive himself hard until the right idea came to him. The chill of night was still in the air he rode into the echoing canyon. An underground stream surfaced and ran from here to feed the oasis. It deepened into a small lake or wadi, from which the nearby village took its name. This was where he usually stopped to let his horse drink.
Easing back in the saddle, he allowed his mount to pick out a safe path down the steep embankment to the water, where he dismounted. Stretching, he turned to run up his stirrups and make the horse comfortable. Loosening its girth, he secured the reins and gave it an encouraging slap on the neck, though after their fast gallop here his horse needed no encouragement to drink. Stripping off his shirt and jeans, he dived into the icy water. It cleared his mind and soothed him as he worked out where to go from here.
He needed space from Jazz to figure out how to leave without ruining her. It was too late to regret what had happened. He had to find a solution that would work for both of them. Jazz had led a sheltered life, but that hadn’t stopped her dreams being big. He could relate to that. Now she was old enough, she was putting those dreams to good use on behalf of her people. He could relate to that too. The sister of his closest friend, a woman he found dangerously attractive, should have been the perfect match for him—would have been perfect, if he hadn’t had so many ghosts dogging his footsteps.
He took out his frustration in a powerful freestyle stroke that took him within sight of the dunes at the far end of the wadi. Swimming back, he waded out and shook the water off himself like a wolf. Reaching for his jeans, he tugged them on and shut his eyes, as if that would close out the image of Jazz.
Then his horse whinnied, and, shading his eyes, he saw her riding flat out. He would have known her anywhere. No other woman rode with Jazz’s grace and elegance, or with such confidence. Silhouetted against the pale sapphire sky of dawn, with her hair flying loose like a banner, she was leaning low over her horse’s neck. He followed her progress with admiration, and then she spotted him. Goodness knew how she knew exactly where he was standing travelling at that speed, but she reined in and rode directly towards him. Something twisted inside him as she approached. Jazz belonged here, just as he did. She was in her element riding free in the desert, but as a deserted wife she would never be free again in Kareshi, at least not free as he understood the term.
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