His Forbidden Diamond. Susan Stephens
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.
‘HOW WONDERFUL TO see you again, Tyr.’
‘And you, Jasmina.’
Wonderful? How inadequate words could be. Her world had been empty and now it was full. The strapping Viking was as fatally compelling as she remembered, but the changes in him were painful to see. Tyr had experienced a lot. Too much, Jazz sensed, and his eyes reflected this. He seemed harder and more cynical, though he was staring down at her with something close to humour in his clear, sharp gaze.
‘You’ve changed, Jazz.’
‘So have you.’ She said this lightly, but Tyr’s essence had changed—frighteningly. The days of teasing him were long gone.
‘How 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