Britt gave a disbelieving hum. ‘If you say so.’
‘I do say so.’ He gestured towards the hotel, where they could see cars arriving. ‘And thank you for going to all this trouble for me.’
She laughed. ‘It’s nice to have the chance. And if I can’t welcome the town’s hero home...’
‘Just welcome your brother home. That’s all I want.’
‘I’d go to the ends of the earth for you, Tyr—and almost had to,’ Britt reminded him wryly.
‘Those emails kept coming,’ he agreed.
‘And you kept ignoring them.’
‘But I saved you a trip in the end,’ he pointed out.
‘Tyr, you never change.’ Britt was laughing but her eyes were sad behind the fixed smile because they both knew that was a lie. He’d changed a whole lot.
‘This quiet time in my office has been good for you, though, hasn’t it, Tyr?’
‘This quiet time has been perfect. Thank you, Britt.’
Aside from shopping for some essentials, which meant ditching the desert boots and safari shirts in favour of city clothes, Tyr hadn’t suffered any human contact since leaving the sandbox. After the silence of the desert even street noise was deafening. But when could Britt not face anything that came her way? he reflected as he gazed into the eyes of a most admirable woman. Even if she hadn’t been his sister, he would have placed Britt on a pedestal a mile high.
‘Well, you’ve had your moment,’ she told him briskly. ‘I want a few words alone with you, and then we’ll go.’
He frowned. ‘This sounds serious.’
‘There’s a lot to tell you, Tyr. You’ve been away for such a long time. Leila’s had twins—’
‘This I know—you already told me.’
‘I told you when they were born,’ Britt agreed. ‘They’re practically school age now, yet you still haven’t seen them.’
He acknowledged this with a regretful dip of his head.
‘And Leila’s pregnant again—’
‘What?’ This was news to him. ‘Raffa doesn’t waste any time.’
‘Stop with the dinosaur spiel. Those two adore each other. They want a football team, according to Leila. And if you will go off radar the world isn’t going to stand still until you decide to come back.’
Where he’d been there was no communication with the outside world—not until he set that communication up and moved on, leaving others to go about the business of contacting loved ones. For a long time he’d been too beat up inside to even think about inflicting himself on his sisters.
‘You’re not going to tell me where you were, are you, Tyr?’
‘Need-to-know basis only.’ He made light of it and shrugged. His work was important to him. It was the only way he knew to make reparation. He didn’t want to talk about that work to anyone, not even to Britt. He didn’t want praise for putting right the wrong he’d done. He just wanted to get on with the job.
Britt shook her head at him. ‘Well, I give up. But just wait until you see Leila. She looks—’
‘Huge?’ he suggested, ducking as Britt aimed a swipe at him.
And just like that they were back to the happy days, the carefree days. ‘So, what else is going on I should know about?’
‘Jazz is here.’
Electricity coursed through him. ‘Jazz. I haven’t seen Jazz for years.’ Just the mention of Sharif’s younger sister’s name took him back to wild school holidays, when he could ride himself into the ground and swim until his arms ached, and think of nothing more but the next harmless adventure with his two friends from Kareshi. But beneath Britt’s matter-of-fact tone, he sensed something more. ‘So?’ He shrugged. ‘What’s happening with Jazz?’ He was fairly confident Sharif would have told him if anything serious had happened to his Jazz—Princess Jasmina of Kareshi, as Jazz was better known to the world. ‘Jazz is okay, isn’t she?’
‘Of course she is.’
‘But?’ He played it down, but his heart had stopped at the thought of harm coming to Jazz. They’d known each other since Sharif had first invited Tyr to spend his school holidays in Kareshi, where Jazz teased him unmercifully for his lack of desert lore. He’d shrugged the irritating kid sister off, but surprised himself by always being pleased to see her. A type of camaraderie had grown between them, and the thought of Jazz sick, or injured— His stomach churned. He’d seen too much of that.