Royals: A Dutiful Princess. Leanne BanksЧитать онлайн книгу.
should, Jazz.’
‘Why should I leave when the damage is already done?’
Catching hold of her arms, Tyr brought her in front of him. ‘Will you stop arguing for once?’ he demanded, staring fiercely into her eyes.
She was ready for anything, but not that. The touch of Tyr’s hands on her body was electrifying. But Tyr felt nothing, Jazz concluded as his stern gaze drilled into hers.
‘I’m thinking of you, Jazz. The villagers are getting used to seeing us together and if we stay on they will get carried away by this idea of a marriage between us. If that happens I will have ruined you. As you say, you’ll never be able to marry.’
‘Do you seriously think I’d want to after this?’ She confronted Tyr’s stormy gaze with amusement. ‘How do you expect me to feel, Tyr? I don’t like this any more than you do.’
So the thought of marrying Tyr has never occurred to you?
‘I’m still trying to find you a way out of it, Jazz.’
‘There is no way out of this.’ She stared out across the water. ‘Shall we swim the horses while we’re here?’
‘If you like.’
She exhaled with relief. They had used to swim the horses in the wadi when they were kids. It was a great way to ease tension, and there had never been a better time to reinstate that tradition.
Their horses plunged forward, heading in the direction of a sandbank where they could find solid ground. Once they were safely out of the water, Jazz turned her face to the brightening sky and smiled as she dragged in a lungful of air. Just this one last time, she wanted to escape reality and feast on the innocent pleasures of Kareshi. ‘Can you smell the desert, Tyr?’
‘Camel dung and heat?’
‘You’re such a savage. That’s Arabian jasmine and desert lavender. The scent is so intense, because our horses’ hooves have crushed the flowers.’
‘If you say so.’
Romance was clearly the last thing on Tyr’s mind this morning. She could hardly blame him, Jazz thought as he sprang down. Preparing to dismount, she held out her hand so Tyr could steady her on the slippery bank, but he bypassed her hand and gripped her round the waist to lower her gently to the ground. The touch of his hands was everything she had ever dreamed of, but the instant her feet were firmly planted, he stepped away. Shading his eyes, he stared across the tranquil water.
‘I should be getting back, Jazz.’
‘But this is our chance to talk about you. You got away with it last time, but I won’t let you get away with it twice.’
He turned to look at her. ‘So what do you want to know about me?’
‘Everything,’ she said softly.
‘A princess of Kareshi might be entitled to many things, but those privileges don’t extend to me, Jazz.’
‘So I’m not allowed to know anything about the man who used to be my friend. And still is my friend, I hope?’
‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’
Jazz shrank inside. There was nothing in Tyr’s voice for her, nothing at all. She’d tried to reach him and she’d failed. The tiny amount of progress they’d made while they were swimming their horses and relaxing in each other’s company had vanished. Closing her eyes, she knew with certainty she didn’t want to travel another yard with a man who didn’t want her, but she also knew she would never stop trying to reach Tyr, if there was even the smallest chance she could help him.
‘Come on, Jazz. Make a decision,’ he prompted. ‘I’ve got to get back.’
‘I had intended to take a quick look at the caves.’
‘Why?’
Because this was her last-ditch attempt to re-establish contact with him. There were prehistoric paintings in the caves, to which, on one memorable occasion, Jazz had added her own childish daub. Sharif had been furious and had ordered her painting removed. Tyr had defended her, insisting Sharif needn’t worry as the rainy season would soon see to that. And it had, washing away Jazz’s painting, leaving the art of prehistory untouched. They had explored the caves endlessly when they were younger. Maybe revisiting them would light that spark again, she hoped.
‘What are you playing at, Jazz?’ Tyr called after her as she set off.
‘Nothing.’ She shrugged as she quickened her stride. ‘Just progressing our catch-up plan.’
‘Your catch-up plan.’
Jazz looked so appealing in pale, figure-hugging riding britches, with the long, concealing shirt she wore over them rippling in the breeze. A flowing dark veil completed the picture, and, whether this was sensible or not, Jazz was the best thing he’d seen since he last saw her the previous night.
‘I’m going to ask Sharif if we can open the caves to the public,’ she explained, slowing to view the cliff path ahead of them. ‘We should share the history of Kareshi. All we’d need to do is to build a proper path with handrails up this cliff and train some guides.’
We, we, we. As Jazz continued to ride her enthusiasm, he wondered if he was guilty of overreacting, or if Jazz still imagined they could live together here? Surely she’d had time to think about it, and had realised what a bad match they were?
It seemed not, and as Jazz started up the cliff, he brushed away a twist of unease and followed her.
‘Be careful when you come up here, Tyr. This scree is treacherous.’
‘Jazz!’
His heart stopped as she wobbled precariously on the edge of a narrow ledge. Bounding up, he dragged her to safety, and for a few intense moments they just stared at each other, and then, conscious he was still holding on to her, he lifted his hands away.
‘Don’t make such a fuss, Tyr.’ Jazz was straightening her shirt as she spoke. ‘I know this terrain like the back of my hand.’
‘Terrain changes over time, and just as sand can slip away beneath your horse’s hooves, these small loose stones are deadly underfoot. You could have gone over the edge.’
‘But I trust you to save me.’
He flinched as she touched his arm. ‘Then you’re mad.’ He turned away before the urge to unloop Jazz’s veil and kiss the life out of her overwhelmed him.
And that was all they had time for before Jazz’s riding boot hit a patch of loose stones and she started to slide away from him. Yanking her back, he stared into the face of a woman he wanted, a woman who, judging by the look on her face, badly wanted to be kissed. He didn’t need any encouragement. Removing her veil, he looped it around her neck and drew her close. Her breathing quickened and her lips parted. ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered.
His answer was to dip his head and brush his lips against hers. Jazz responded as he’d hoped she would, melting against him as she reached up to link her hands behind his neck. He pulled away, cursing himself for the loss of control when he felt her trembling. ‘And now we really should be getting back.’
‘You’re right,’ she agreed, swallowing deep. ‘Do you mind if I take hold of your hand for the rest of the way down?’
‘Be my guest.’
By the time they reached level ground, reason had thankfully re-entered his thinking. ‘You’re going to ride into the village ahead of me.’
A frisson of concern tore through Jazz. The tone of Tyr’s voice had changed so completely. He’d kissed her. Tyr had kissed her. But in the short time it had taken them to walk down the cliff path together, he had grown distant again. The fact that Tyr could cut himself off so completely, and in so short a space of time, frightened her. There was so much she didn’t know about