are you, Jazz?’
Tyr’s sharp gaze pierced her and clearly asked her: How are you really? Tell me the truth.
‘I’m very well, thank you. And you?’
Her stilted tone brought another flash of amusement to Tyr’s dark eyes. ‘You look well,’ he said.
Heat pooled inside her as he continued to stare down, making a nonsense of her decision to remain aloof from men. And how could she have forgotten the effect of his voice? Tyr’s deep, husky tone embraced her like a welcome memory from the past, even as it rang warning bells in her head.
‘We must find time to catch up, Jazz.’
She actually gasped at this suggestion. Did Tyr have any idea what he was suggesting? ‘Catching up’ implied an intimate one-to-one conversation, which was absolutely forbidden. Private time with a man apart from her brother, Sharif, could never happen, but as Sharif was called away to greet some of their other guests she found herself alone with Tyr. Jazz’s cheeks flamed red with embarrassment. The connection between them hadn’t been lost. If anything, the passage of time had only made it stronger.
Britt saved her. Having organised the event, Britt was easily the busiest woman in the room, but still she had spotted Jazz, who was marooned on her own personal desert island with Tyr, and quickly came across to offer a life raft.
‘Jazz, there are some people I think you’d like to meet. Excuse us, please, Tyr.’ Smiling briefly at her brother, she whisked Jazz away.
Jazz exhaled shakily as they crossed the ballroom. ‘Thank you for rescuing me.’
‘From those two dinosaurs?’ Britt laughed. ‘I could see Sharif’s tension a mile off, and when Tyr came over to speak to you I knew it was time to launch a rescue mission.’
Jazz glanced round to find Tyr was still watching her.
‘Come on.’ Britt squeezed her arm. ‘There are lots of great people for you to meet.’
Jazz counted herself lucky to have a sister-in-law like Britt on her side. Britt acted as a sounding board, and, with no other female relatives to confide in, it was reassuring to know she could always talk to Britt. Jazz really valued her growing friendship with the three Skavanga sisters, though doubted they understood her point of view where her chosen lifestyle was concerned, as they came from such a different world.
‘I’m going to introduce you to a really nice crowd,’ Britt promised, linking arms with Jazz. ‘We’ll leave the men to brood.’
Jazz blushed. She could feel Tyr’s stare on her back, halfway across the room.
‘Are you all right?’ Britt whispered discreetly during a lull in the conversation with the crowd they’d joined. ‘I saw the way you looked at Tyr.’
Britt’s eyes were full of compassion. Had everyone noticed? ‘I’m fine.’ She smiled to reassure Britt. ‘I can handle Tyr.’
Britt smiled back, but nothing about that smile convinced Jazz that Britt believed her as they both glanced around at Tyr. ‘He cares about you, Jazz. We all do.’
Impulsively, Jazz gave Britt a hug. Britt was the closest thing she had to a sister, but, however much she thought of Britt, nothing could derail Jazz’s determination to live a life beyond reproach in service to her country.
* * *
Jazz Kareshi was all grown up. Tyr’s mouth tugged fractionally at the irony of doing everything in his power to avoid finding his best friend’s sister attractive and failing miserably. Jazz had grown into a beautiful woman and he could look at nothing else. He should be grateful to Britt for whisking Jazz away before his interest became more obvious. The fact that Sharif had stood between him and Jazz until Sharif was called away had irritated the hell out of him. He’d known Jazz since she wore pigtails and braces; couldn’t they even talk to each other now? They were both powerful men, and used to having their own way, but it seemed there were some things Sharif would like to deny Tyr, like catch-up time with Jazz.
‘Jazz seems happy tonight,’ he commented when Sharif joined him, determined to find out everything there was to know about Jazz.
‘My sister is always happy. Why would she not be?’
‘No reason, Sharif.’ He returned Sharif’s suspicious glance with a level stare. ‘Are you trying to keep her away from me? Relax,’ he said as Sharif stiffened with affront. ‘Jazz is your sister and I respect that. I wouldn’t do anything to cause either of you embarrassment.’
‘Jasmina has chosen to distance herself from the modern world for her own reasons, not because anyone, least of all me, has tried to confine her.’
He stared into the eyes of a man he’d known and trusted most of his life, and knew instantly that Sharif was telling him the truth.
‘Jasmina believes that while I implement change for the better, she must reassure the more conservative groups in our country by remaining a very traditional princess. We will both do anything we can to avoid the chaos of our parents’ rule.’
‘I understand that, and I respect it,’ Tyr assured his friend, following Sharif’s stare across the room to where Jazz was standing. Both Sharif and Jazz were determined to do everything they could for their people, even if that meant sacrificing their own happiness.
‘Jasmina is finding the party a little overwhelming, I think,’ Sharif remarked as if reading his mind.
‘It must be a conflict for her—coming out into mixed company, I mean.’
They shared a smile as he remembered the tomboy who had been at the forefront of every adventure, while Sharif had always had to consider his dignity and look forward to what was best for Kareshi.
‘And you, Tyr?’ Sharif looked at him with concern. ‘How are you enjoying the party?’
‘Like Jazz. Mixing with so many people at once is something of an ordeal.’ His lips pressed down at this rueful admission, but both he and Jazz had chosen the solitary life, if for very different reasons. ‘But I’m grateful to Britt for arranging this party. Britt is right—I need to be back amongst people I love.’
This was true, but there were too many people here and far too much noise. Five minutes alone with Jazz, someone he didn’t have to explain every little thing to because they had that long history of friendship behind them, would have been more than enough for him, but he couldn’t share that opinion with Sharif.
‘Tyr—’
‘Over here—’
Another friend. Another photograph.
He should be more gracious. He would try, but the flare of candlelight on crystal was like a barrage of spotlights directed on his face. Everyone wanted to know where he’d been, what he’d done, what he’d seen. Only Jazz shone like a beacon in the midst of all the uproar. She was an oasis in the desert of his life, and his gaze sought her out hungrily.
‘I’m guessing you’d rather be back in the desert, Tyr?’
Jolted out of his reverie, he turned to lock stares with Sharif.
