Royals: A Dutiful Princess: His Forbidden Diamond / Expectant Princess, Unexpected Affair / Royal Holiday Baby

Tyr.

Jazz’s throat dried. She had always been excited to see the big Viking.

But things were different now, Jazz told herself firmly. She was an adult with responsibilities, not a child who had plagued the life out of her brother’s closest friend. She had to guard her feelings.

But Tyr was someone she could always depend on.

Or he had been, until he’d disappeared.

How she’d worried about him—wondered about him—prayed for him to be safe.

And now he was back.

What would he think of her? She was so changed, so solemn and so silent. She wouldn’t be playing any tricks on him today.

And she wouldn’t be going to the party if she didn’t calm down.

Taking a few steadying breaths, she closed her eyes and tried her hardest not to think about Tyr Skavanga. After a few moments, she gave up.

* * *

Tyr paused at the entrance to the hotel ballroom and smiled. ‘This is beautiful, Britt.’

‘No welcome banners,’ Eva complained, staring around.

‘No. It’s all very Britt,’ Leila commented approvingly, echoing his own thoughts. ‘It’s a really classy setting.’

‘For a warrior’s return,’ Eva said proudly, putting her hand on his arm.

‘For a homecoming,’ he argued gently.

There was no doubt Britt had gone to a lot of trouble. The flowers in the tall vases flanking the easel to one side of the grand double doors were classic and white. The photograph of him Britt had chosen to prop up on the easel showed him laughing and relaxed before he’d entered the theatre of war, where his life had changed completely.

‘You look about twenty years older in real life,’ Eva informed him helpfully to a chorus of disapproval from their sisters.

‘Watch it, shrimp,’ he warned playfully, feeling his spirits lift to the point where he thought he might actually enjoy the evening. ‘Roman’s out of earshot, so you could be heading for a soaking in the chocolate fountain.’

Eva gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Death by chocolate suits me.’

‘Come on, you two, stop squabbling,’ Britt insisted, pulling the big-sister card on both of them.

He walked ahead of his sisters into the lavishly decorated ballroom with its Gothic curlicues and massive, glittering chandeliers, and the first thing he saw when he entered the room was Jazz.

CHAPTER TWO

HOLY CRAP!

Tyr’s heart banged in his chest when Jazz turned to look at him. It was as if some invisible electrical cord connected them. What was it he’d said so confidently to Britt only minutes before? I’m going to see a lot of friends tonight and I’m going to treat them all the same.

Seriously?

No one else stood a chance of top billing with Princess Jasmina of Kareshi in the room. Britt had been derelict in her description of this new version of the tomboy Jazz, who hadn’t just grown up, but who had blossomed like an exotic flower into the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Jazz’s new air of serenity intrigued him. It was as if she had created a role for herself that she was determined to play out to the full.

He dismissed the new role Jazz had slotted herself into with a disapproving huff. She was avoiding the truth.

A bit like him, then?

Not a bit like him!

Swiping his hair back, he turned his mind to the flash of fire he’d seen in her eyes when Jazz had first spotted him entering the ballroom. It reminded him of the days when Her Royal Cheekiness had used to goad him on every possible occasion. Level calm had returned to her eyes now that Jazz was concentrating on the group of women surrounding her.

‘Tyr?’

He turned to look at Britt.

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’

There was always more to Britt’s questions than at first appeared, so he replied with caution. ‘I guess.’ His world was private. He’d lived alone for too long to share his personal feelings with anyone, even Britt. He should have known his sister didn’t need any conversational pointers to read him.

‘Don’t shake her up, Tyr,’ Britt implored. ‘Be mild-mannered around her. Don’t pull the marauding Viking act. Jazz is trying her hardest to play the conservative card, so that traditionalists aren’t rattled when Sharif makes sweeping changes for good in Kareshi.’ Britt shook her head for emphasis. ‘This evening is really hard for her, Tyr. Being out in mixed company, I mean. But Jazz needs this. She has such a free spirit—but you know that.’ Britt frowned. ‘She’s sacrificed more than we know for Kareshi.’

‘Her freedom?’ he cut in.

‘Tyr, please. Don’t make it any harder for her,’ Britt begged him with a restraining hand on his arm. ‘You, of all people, can surely appreciate the value of sacrifice. So just say hello, be polite and then back off. All right?’

‘Thanks for writing the script for me, sis.’ He raised an amused brow.

‘Just don’t mess with Jazz. She’s got enough to contend with.’

‘I’ve no intention of messing with Jazz, as you put it, but I’d have to be wood from the neck up not to respond to such a beautiful woman.’

‘Just keep your feelings under wraps, Tyr. Spare Jazz the heartache. She’s always been half in love with you. And you’ve been alone a long time, remember.’

‘Relax, Britt. I’m not that desperate. I haven’t exactly been a saint while I’ve been away.’

‘You can find love in all sorts of unexpected places,’ Britt agreed, ‘but I don’t think Jazz is looking for the type of love you’re offering.’

He gave his sister an amused look. ‘I hope she isn’t looking for love at all.’

‘Why, Tyr?’ Britt’s stare pierced him. ‘Would you be jealous?’

‘Of Jazz’s suitors?’ He laughed that off. Offering Britt his arm, he led his sister deeper into the crowded room.

‘There are too many alphas in this room,’ Britt commented wryly as his sisters’ husbands Raffa and Roman waylaid him for a brisk man hug. ‘I may drown in testosterone.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll save you,’ Tyr offered as the men broke away to claim their wives.

‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ Britt murmured.

When they drew closer to Jazz, Britt gave him a warning look and he squeezed her arm to reassure her. ‘I remember what you said. I respect Jazz. Always have, always will.’

He didn’t hear Britt’s reply. The hubbub of excited guests rolled over him like white noise as he kept his gaze fixed on Jazz. Bathed in light beneath a huge chandelier, she was chatting animatedly to an admiring group of women.

‘No, Tyr.’

He paused mid-stride with Britt at his elbow.

‘Don’t you remember what I said? Jazz is going to be heavily chaperoned tonight, and I won’t thank you for interfering.’

The corner of his mouth kicked up. ‘You still think I’m going to leap on her?’

‘I know that look in your eyes. When Jazz marries she’s stated her intention to be pure.’

He frowned. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘You don’t put her in a compromising position. Go easy on her, Tyr. Jazz has barely left Kareshi since the day she was born. Coming to Skavanga is a big adventure for her.’

‘I’ve got no intention of spoiling anything for Jazz. If she has chosen to live her life according to the traditions of Kareshi, then I respect that.’

‘Good, because you might be the brother I adore, but if you hurt Jazz—’

‘You don’t have to say it, Britt.’

‘Don’t I?’ Britt followed his stare straight ahead to the slim, straight-backed girl wearing the long, concealing robes of Kareshi.

* * *

So much for her intention to live a chaste and pure life! Jazz’s intentions hadn’t changed, but her body was rebelling like you wouldn’t believe. Hyper-arousal was an involuntary reaction to a threat, and one glimpse of Tyr Skavanga was all it took to give her all the symptoms. Her muscles were primed for action, while she was tense and ready. Her heart was racing, and her breathing was hectic as adrenalin raced through her system, putting every nerve ending she possessed in super-receptive mode. The flight-or-fight mechanism common to all human beings, whether they were autocratic sheikhs, powerful Scandinavian warriors like Tyr or the highly protected sister of the ruling Sheikh Sharif of Kareshi, could not be controlled by force of will.

But it must be controlled, Jazz determined, glancing at her brother to make sure Sharif had not noticed her response to Tyr.

It wasn’t fear of Tyr Skavanga raising Jazz’s heartbeat as she continued to chat with the group of women surrounding her, but the excitement of rekindling a lifelong friendship with him that was as close to love as it could get. But they weren’t children any longer, and Jazz was an unmarried princess of Kareshi, which meant that to love a man outside the family, however innocent that love might be, was absolutely forbidden by the traditionalists in Kareshi. Sharif was a progressive ruler, but Jazz believed that things could only move so fast in a country mired in tradition, and only the fact that tonight was an unmissable family event had ensured her attendance at this party.

She had spent so many years thinking about Tyr, however, that it was impossible to put him out of her mind now he was practically within touching distance. No one knew where Tyr had been for all these years, except perhaps for Sharif, who had been his closest friend since school, and who was as annoyingly silent as the Sphinx on the subject of Tyr Skavanga. They had both attended an elite military college, that much she knew, and then they had both joined Special Forces, where Tyr had been decorated for his courage, but then he’d disappeared. ‘Into the desert,’ Sharif had told her vaguely. Sharif would never betray a friend’s confidence, but had explained that Tyr was working on rebuilding and repairing infrastructure that had been damaged during the years of conflict before Sharif ascended the throne.

Tyr’s life experiences had changed him, Jazz realised as she stared at him. There were shadows behind his eyes and deep lines furrowing Tyr’s strong face. Whatever her pledge regarding friendships with men outside the family, her heart went out to him.

And bounced when Tyr glanced at her.

It was as if he could feel her interest.

Her cheeks burned as she turned away. Surely Sharif had explained to Tyr that she might be working, and have all the outward appearance of being an independent woman, but she was bound by her duty to Kareshi, and was only marking time until her brother could arrange an advantageous marriage for her—advantageous for Kareshi, that was.

‘Skavanga is so glamorous these days, isn’t it?’

Thankful to be distracted, she turned to smile at the elderly woman standing next to her. ‘This is my first time in Skavanga,’ she admitted, ‘so I only know what my brother has told me about a place he’s come to love.’

‘Before diamonds were discovered in the family mine,’ the same woman continued, ‘Skavanga was just a tiny mining town beyond the Arctic Circle, scratching a living as best it could, but now our town glitters as brightly as the precious stones your 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.

CHAPTER THREE

‘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 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. ‘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?