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‘How would it look to the people of Wadi village if I leave you in the desert to die?’ Tyr demanded, distracting her. ‘Let me tell you,’ he said before she had chance to reply. ‘It would look as if the man who has been working with them, the same man the villagers have grown to trust, is nothing but a barbarian who holds life cheap, and who shows total disrespect for their royal family. You’ve had a fall. We don’t know if you’re injured yet. At the very least, you’ve sustained a shock. In the absence of an ambulance rumbling over the dunes, I’m carrying you back to the medical centre, where you can be checked out and treated. Anyone on earth would understand that.’
‘My people won’t.’
‘Your people would rather have you dead?’ Tyr shook his head. ‘You don’t know them, Jazz. They love you. They talk about you and Sharif constantly. Together you’ve brought stability to Kareshi. You must never take a chance like that again. What if I hadn’t planned to swim in the oasis? What if you’d broken your leg and were stranded out here? What if your horse had run away? Are you carrying a satellite phone or a tracking device?’
In her rush to see Tyr, she had remembered none of these things, Jazz realised, but that wasn’t something she was about to share with him. ‘They must have been lost during the fall.’
‘Yeah, right.’ He strode on.
Her heart sank. They had almost reached the outskirts of the village, and people were already coming out of their houses to take a look. Smiling grimly as he reassured people in broken Kareshi, Tyr continued on through the crowd. He either didn’t know or didn’t care that touching her was practically a criminal offence. And she couldn’t blame the villagers for their concern. Before Tyr had arrived on the scene, installing the Internet and bringing fresh water to the village, they hadn’t met a stranger for goodness knew how long. They led remote, sheltered lives, shielded from the world, with traditions that had remained unchanged for centuries. How long before news of her unconventional arrival flashed around Kareshi? She smiled in an attempt to reassure the veiled women, whose eyes were wide with concern for her, and nodded briefly at the men, who turned away. She was shamed in their eyes, and no excuse could possibly explain her outlandish behaviour.
Pausing only to hand over the reins of her horse to one of the young boys who had been following them, Tyr carried her inside the clinic, where he handed her over to the orderlies like a parcel he was glad to be rid of. There was nothing wrong with his manner towards her. There was nothing but pure concern in his eyes, though Jazz doubted the traditionalists would see it that way.
‘I’m going to check on your horse,’ he called back as he left the building.
‘Thank you.’ She was uncomfortably aware of the increasing clamour of the crowd outside the clinic as the people waited for news of their princess.
‘I must go to them and explain,’ she told the nurse, struggling into a sitting position.
The nurse gently pushed her down again. ‘We can do that for you,’ she said firmly. ‘Forgive me, Princess Jasmina, but you’re not going anywhere until the doctor’s had chance to take a look at you. You might as well rest back. There’s nothing for you to worry about. His Majesty has already been informed.’
Great! Jazz’s breath left her body in a shuddering sigh. She could imagine Sharif’s reaction. Having had her beg him to arrange a marriage for her, he now discovered she was here with Tyr.
Needless to say, by the time the nurse took her blood pressure, it was sky-high. The nurse peered at her over her spectacles. ‘Even if the doctor gives his okay, I’m going to insist that you stay here and rest. This equipment tells me you’ve been badly shaken up.’
And not just by the fall from her horse, Jazz thought.
Tyr needed space from Jazz and time to think. He still hadn’t got over the shock of finding her here in Kareshi, and now there was the sensation he’d caused to deal with on top of that. He wouldn’t risk losing the people’s trust. Nor did he want to damage his friendship with Sharif. Taking some of the elders aside, he decided to sort it out.
Their reaction threw him.
‘No, no, no,’ he said, smiling as he shook his head to make his position clear. ‘We’re not planning to get married.’
‘But you must,’ the headman said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Tyr was still smiling, still convinced that this couldn’t be a serious suggestion on the part of the headman, but his laughing gaze was met by an unwavering stare. ‘All right.’ Taking it in good part, he clapped the old man on the back. ‘We’ll sort this out—
