His Forbidden Diamond

He groaned inwardly. Time had run out. In the interest of learning more, he acted dumb. ‘What kind of offer?’

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Eva exclaimed, glancing round the table. ‘I know you’re a man, but you must have some idea?’

He shrugged. ‘I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.’

Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Eva—as he had hoped she would—hurried to fill in the details. ‘An offer of marriage, dummkopf. And soon.’

Soon? He didn’t want to hear another word. He knew his face must be as black as thunder as he appeared to consider this bombshell.

‘The Emir of Qadar?’ he said at last, lips pressing down as he nodded his head, acting impressed. ‘Big country. Important title. That’s quite a compliment for Jazz, isn’t it?’

Britt put a restraining hand on Eva’s arm when she sucked in a breath.

‘Well, isn’t it?’ he said mildly.

Eva scowled, while Leila bit her lip, and Britt looked troubled. Jazz avoided his stare altogether.

‘Is anyone going to explain?’ he requested mildly, seething inside.

Eva took the bait. ‘May I?’ she said, looking at Jazz with concern.

Jazz shrugged and appeared resigned. ‘Go right ahead. It will soon be public knowledge, so, why not?’

Taking a deep breath, Eva stared into his eyes. She was sending him a strong message of sympathy for Jazz, along with an entreaty for him to do something the heck about it. ‘You might not think it such a compliment when I tell you that the emir has insisted on Jazz being a virgin when they marry.’

He exploded out of his seat, then remembered he was supposed to be acting out the concerned friend, rather than overheated would-be lover. Making a calming gesture with his hands, intended for himself as much as anyone, he turned to Jazz. ‘Forgive me, Jazz. This is none of my business, but I didn’t know men still made that type of demand on a woman. This must be hard for you, impossible to talk about with me around...’ He turned for the door, desperate to kick it in, or smash a fist into a block of wood.

‘No, stay,’ Jazz said quietly. ‘You might as well know everything.’

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.