The Royals Collection. Rebecca Winters

Kareshi and I have a duty to uphold certain standards.’

      ‘And what does that entail?’ His heart was sinking even as he asked the question, because he knew Jazz’s answer would involve more sacrifice, more confinement, more restrictions. Basically a smaller life for Jazz, and, knowing her as he did, that felt like a tragic waste of life to him.

      ‘I’ll just have to see what the future holds,’ she said. ‘Sharif has been approached by the Emir of Qadar.’

      He had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.

      ‘It would be a great match for me, Tyr. Our two countries share a boundary.’

      ‘A match?’ He looked at her disbelievingly. ‘As in marriage?’

      Jazz blushed. ‘This is only the start of negotiations.’

      He raised a brow. ‘So you’re a bargaining counter now?’

      ‘Of course not. Sharif would never marry me off to someone I couldn’t get along with.’

      ‘Get along with?’ He spat out the words like something nasty in his mouth. ‘Aren’t you supposed to love the person you marry?’

      ‘Love?’ Briefly, Jazz seemed bewildered by the concept. ‘I don’t even know him.’

      ‘Do you think this is wise?’

      ‘I’ve seen him.’

      ‘You’ve seen him?’ he repeated. ‘Oh, well, that’s all right, then.’

      ‘Don’t mock me, Tyr. This is our way in Kareshi.’

      ‘Freedom to love should be everyone’s way in every country of the world.’

      ‘But Sharif has already broken with tradition by allowing me to pursue a career, and sometimes you have to be content. I agree that by staying in Kareshi I could achieve a lot, but if by marrying the emir I can take some of the burden off Sharif’s shoulders—’

      ‘Sharif’s a grown man,’ he cut in, having heard enough. ‘Sharif is a proven ruler. What about your life, Jazz? What about you?’

      ‘Me?’

      He didn’t know which of them was surprised more by his passionate outburst.

      ‘Kareshi is my life,’ Jazz insisted. ‘Anything I can do to help my country I’ll do gladly.’

      ‘You’re repeating yourself, Jazz,’ he said. ‘And if you really want to help your country, why not stay in Kareshi and work?’

      ‘But the emir... I agreed Sharif could meet with him.’

      ‘And you can stop him doing that in a few words.’ He fixed Jazz with a stare, which she avoided.

      Heaving a sigh, she glanced around, presumably to see if anyone had noticed this heated discussion. ‘I don’t want to stop him,’ she admitted, leaning close. ‘If my marriage to the emir will benefit Kareshi, then that’s good enough for me.’

      ‘What you’ve just suggested is outrageous.’ He sat back. Subject closed.

      ‘Fine words, Tyr, but you weren’t born into the royal family of Kareshi. You’re free to do anything you want and I’m not. It’s that simple.’

      ‘Nothing is ever that simple.’ As he should know.

      Grinding his jaw with frustration, he had to remind himself that this was a party, and that it was better for them both to calm down. At least for now.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      THERE WAS NO more chance to speak as Britt and Sharif had returned to sit at the table. In spite of his lifelong friendship with Sharif, he couldn’t believe his friend was going along with Jazz’s crazy idea, or that neither of them could talk Jazz out of the narrow path she had chosen to follow.

      ‘Stop seething, Tyr.’

      The sound of Jazz’s voice, low and urgent, made him turn to look at her.

      ‘You’re making me uncomfortable,’ she explained in an undertone, ‘and people will notice.’

      ‘You’re making me uncomfortable with all this talk of an arranged marriage to a man you don’t even know,’ he countered. ‘What makes you think you’ve changed that much, Jazz? When you were younger you would have laughed an idea like that out of court.’

      ‘Exactly. We’re both older now, and I’m in a position to do something to help my country by making at least one of our borders secure.’

      Shaking his head to shut her up, he hit Jazz with a cynical look.

      ‘Allying our two countries will be good for Kareshi,’ she insisted.

      ‘But Kareshi is rich, since Sharif took over, and your brother is a wise ruler. Why the hell would he agree to sacrificing his sister for nothing more than political expediency?’

      ‘If he thinks it makes me happy—’

      ‘Ha! I can’t believe Sharif goes along with that.’

      ‘Tyr, please keep your voice down.’

      ‘Whatever you say, Princess, but I don’t think you’ve thought this through.’

      ‘I’m not going to argue with you. I’m saying this is how it’s going to be.’

      ‘What happened to the girl I used to know?’

      Jazz threw him an accusatory look, but there was something in her eyes that suggested deep down she agreed with him. It was sad to think her stubbornness wouldn’t allow Jazz to admit she was wrong so she could put a stop to these crazy marriage plans.

      Sensing something was going on between them, Sharif glanced round. Tyr exchanged a brief look with his friend, lips pressed down to express regret at the fact that this was one time when he couldn’t help Sharif out. Sharif shrugged. Jazz had always been stubborn. Once she got an idea into her head, they both knew she ran with it until Jazz, or the concept, ran out of steam.

      After feeling nothing for so long, Tyr felt this urge to help Jazz overwhelming him. He would like to get very close indeed to Jazz Kareshi.

      All the more reason to sit back and ignore her.

      This was turning into one hell of an evening.

      And it was about to get worse.

      As he released a sigh of frustration, Jazz looked at him with something in her eyes that made his senses go into free fall. ‘Don’t play games with me, Jazz,’ he mouthed in an undertone.

      ‘I’m not playing games with you.’

      So her eyes were playing games with him—her lips too. And flushed cheeks betrayed her more than any excuses she could give. The laws of attraction took no prisoners. Nor did they show concern for a self-contained warrior who’d had his armour split wide open tonight, or a conservative princess who had just rediscovered her wings.

      ‘Tyr.’

      He glanced up with relief to see his sister Britt. Putting one hand on the back of his chair and the other on the back of Jazz’s chair, his sister bound them briefly. ‘How are you two enjoying the evening so far?’

      You two? Should he tell her the truth and ruin Britt’s evening after all her hard work on his behalf? He was tense beyond belief, and Jazz was—Jazz. ‘I’m having a wonderful time. It’s been a great chance to catch up.’

      ‘Do you mean that?’ Jazz murmured when his sister had left them to rejoin Sharif.

      ‘I’ve learned a lot.’ Like Jazz’s freedom shouldn’t depend on some misguided idea of how she could best help her country.

      ‘Why