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. ‘You guessed right.’
It was the silence of the desert that had first imprinted itself on his heart, and Sharif and Jazz were an integral part of the land he loved. He loved their harsh country and the hostile terrain. He loved them. The hardship of his work in the desert soothed him. It distracted him from other things, ugly things in his past. Up to tonight he’d had no wish to rekindle gentle feelings that seemed to have died inside him, but now?
‘I wish you the very best of evenings, Tyr.’
He refocused on Sharif.
‘But stay away from my sister.’
It took him a moment to realise that he’d been staring at Jazz the whole time they’d been talking.
‘Don’t make Jazz’s life even harder than she makes it for herself, Tyr.’
‘I wouldn’t do anything to hurt either of you,’ he assured his friend.
As he spoke, a group of guests chose that moment to draw Sharif away, leaving Tyr free to gaze at Jazz uninterrupted. Strange to think the happy, carefree girl he remembered would never be truly free again and that the best thing he could do for Jazz was to butt out of her life altogether.
He tried to ignore her. He chatted to some guests, but while Jazz was in the same room as him he couldn’t concentrate. Were they supposed to ignore each other for the rest of the night? He was so tense that his expression was fierce as he whirled around when someone touched his arm. He was shocked to see an old lady staring up at him. ‘I’m so sorry.’ His expression softened instantly. ‘Please forgive me.’
‘There’s no need to apologise,’ she said with a smile. ‘I just wanted to tell you how good it is to see the Skavanga family reunited. And I think it’s especially significant to see Sheikh Sharif’s sister here. I understand why Princess Jasmina has chosen to live her life the way she has. I was talking to her earlier. It must have been a big step for her to take, and an even bigger one for her to be here tonight. She’s obviously courageous. And what a beautiful girl she is. She is so lucky to have a brother who clearly adores her.’
Tyr made polite noises as the charming old lady chatted on, but what he really appreciated was the excuse to stare openly at Jazz. He’d been a prisoner of war for a time, and understood that captivity could be as much a condition of the mind as the body, and his heart went out to Jazz. He would not exchange one moment of his life now for Jazz’s confined existence, but he couldn’t blame her for her choices when Jazz was as much a servant to duty as he.
As if sensing his interest, Jazz turned to look at him, and for the briefest moment her expression held all the warmth and mischief of the past.
‘Well, I mustn’t take up all your time.’
Realising he’d been ignoring the old lady, he quickly turned to her. ‘You must once more forgive me. I was distracted.’
‘By Princess Jasmina?’ The old lady smiled up at him. ‘I’m not surprised.’
He shrugged with amusement at being caught out. These were good people, all keen to welcome him back, and he should show them more respect. He would. Tonight would go smoothly from now on, if he just could stick to one simple rule: Jazz Kareshi was off-limits.
But within moments a group had formed around him and all they wanted to talk about were his exotic friends from Kareshi. One of the women pointed to Sharif, who even Tyr had to admit looked striking in his flowing robes.
‘The sheikh is exactly what I think of when I imagine a desert warrior,’ she enthused. ‘Tell me, Tyr,’ she added with a smile, ‘did they hand out handsome pills at your school?’
‘No. Cold showers and the birch,’ he murmured distractedly, wondering what
