Too right. He leaned back against the door. ‘OK.’ He remained outwardly calm, while a firestorm of concern for Jazz kicked off inside him. What kind of Neanderthal was she planning to marry? And when had this been settled? Last he’d heard, talks between the emir and Sharif were just getting started.
‘Jazz must do what’s right for her,’ his peacemaking sister Leila insisted. ‘None of us has any idea what it takes to be a princess of Kareshi.’ Turning to Jazz, she added, ‘And we’ll support you in whatever you decide to do.’
Jazz stood up too. ‘I know you will.’ She was clearly moved by their concern. ‘Will you all excuse me for a moment?’
‘Of course.’ The chorus of Skavangas was unanimous.
Tyr stood aside to let Jazz go, but he didn’t give his sisters a chance to reinforce the message the three of them were so urgently firing at him. He was going to do something about this, and was on it before Jazz had closed the door.
He closed it for her—with them both on the same side.
‘What are you doing?’ Jazz gasped, staring up at him in alarm as he shut the door behind them.
He came straight to the point. ‘Have you thought this through?’
Jazz stared down at his hands on her arm, and for a very dangerous moment passions ran as high between them as they had way back when. Anything might have happened in those few, potent seconds, but then Jazz drew in a shaky breath and the torment in her eyes made him let her go. As his hands dropped to his side, she whispered, ‘Leila’s right. I know you don’t understand this, but I have to at least consider the emir’s offer, because of all the benefits it could bring to Kareshi.’
‘Nonsense! I told you before, this isn’t right for you, and you know it, Jazz. I can see it on your face.’
‘I knew I should have come veiled,’ she murmured dryly, the old Jazz peeping through. Somehow that flash of spirit made it all the harder to come to terms with this.
‘Don’t joke, Jazz. This is your life we’re talking about.’
‘Exactly, Tyr.’ Her chin tipped up. Steel entered her voice. ‘This is my life. Now, will you please let me go?’
She stared past him to the bathroom and he stood aside. Grinding his jaw, he watched her go, wondering how he was going to live with himself if he did as Jazz asked—stood back and did nothing.
* * *
Jazz left them soon after that, kissing and hugging his sisters goodbye, but barely acknowledging Tyr. She had somewhere to be quite urgently, he gathered. The rest of the afternoon was spent in stormy silence. He turned up the volume on the match, while his sisters talked in undertones at the table. He had no more interest in their conversation. He knew what they were talking about. He knew how he felt about it. And he was damned if was going to share those feelings with anyone.
He didn’t move until his mobile phone rang and then he took the call in the other room.
‘Sharif? There’s nothing wrong, is there?’ The line was bad. He was instantly concerned.
‘Yes and no. I need you out in Kareshi, Tyr.’
His thought processes raced. Kareshi? Jazz. Yes. Yes had to be his answer to Sharif’s request.
‘Sorry to rush you back there, Tyr—no, there’s nothing wrong,’ Sharif confirmed to his relief. ‘Had to leave unexpectedly. No problem. Just some business to attend to.’
‘I understand.’ He relaxed. Sharif was obviously travelling where a good line wasn’t always a given.
‘The Wadi villagers have called for help in getting their Internet connection established, and they need someone to show them how to use it. I wouldn’t ask you to go back right away, but I can’t send anyone they don’t know. They’ve been so isolated up to now and they trust you.’
He frowned as he remembered his promise to return to Wadi village as soon as he had made his peace with his sisters. ‘I won’t let them down.’
‘Soon?’ Sharif asked cryptically.
‘Tomorrow soon enough for you?’
‘Tomorrow is perfect.’
Britt’s face was rigid when he returned to the sitting room. ‘Leave it, Tyr.’
‘Leave what?’ His thoughts were racing with plans for his return to Kareshi, and the chance to see Jazz again, on her home ground, where they could continue this discussion. When Jazz had talked about freedom, she had envisaged the type of freedom everyone in this room took for granted. He couldn’t just sit here. He had to do something.
‘Leave this business with Jazz alone,’ Britt insisted when he stonewalled her with a look. ‘And don’t tell me you’re not thinking about her. I know that look. You seem to think Jazz was forced into making this decision.’
‘A decision she hasn’t seen through yet,’ he pointed out, ‘so there’s still time for her to change her mind, and if I see her in Kareshi I will certainly say something.’
‘Are you suggesting Sharif would force Jazz into doing something she doesn’t want to?’ Britt demanded.
As passions between them grew heated, Leila stepped in. ‘No, of course Tyr isn’t saying that, Britt.’ And gradually, like a pan of boiling milk taken off the heat, everyone calmed down again.
Until Eva chipped in with, ‘You should tell him, Britt.’
He spun round. ‘Tell me what?’
‘I know you just spoke to Sharif,’ Britt began, haltingly for her, he thought. ‘Sharif told me he was going to ring you—’
‘And?’ he flashed.
‘Calm down, Tyr. Give me chance to explain.’ Britt’s face was white with tension. Nothing about this situation was easy for her. ‘Jazz won’t be in Kareshi when you get back,’ she explained, ‘and you’ll probably have left the country before she arrives. And, before you ask, she isn’t in Skavanga, either.’
‘She was here earlier,’ he protested.
‘And now she’s gone,’ Britt confirmed.
‘Gone? Gone where?’
‘Jazz has left Skavanga with Sharif.’
His mind reeled. Just when he thought he might get the chance to talk some sense into Jazz, she had left Skavanga for some destination unknown.
Unless—
‘Tell me she hasn’t gone to Qadar.’ His muscles tensed as he waited for one of his sisters to answer.
‘No,’ Britt reassured him. ‘And before you get angry, I think this might be my fault. Sharif and I talked about getting Jazz out of Kareshi so she can get a fresh perspective on life, so instead of leaving Skavanga for Kareshi as Jazz had planned, Sharif has laid on a treat for her. He’s not happy with Jazz falling meekly into line with the traditionalists in Kareshi, either. He doesn’t see Jazz as a docile princess. He never has.’
‘Jazz—docile?’ He grimaced at the thought. ‘So where’s he taken her?’
‘To the fashion shows in Milan.’
‘To the fashion shows?’ He laughed out loud. No wonder Britt couldn’t look at him. ‘To the fashion shows?’ he repeated. ‘Does Sharif know anything about his sister?’
Ignoring Britt’s protests, he made an angry gesture. ‘Since when has Jazz been a front-row fashionista? Jazz is happiest out in the desert, riding free.’
‘Tyr.’ Leila followed him to the door. ‘Don’t do anything hasty. It won’t help Jazz. Sharif was looking for something to take Jazz’s mind off the emir and his proposal. It will at least give her a chance