The Park's Empire: Handsome Strangers...: The Prince's Bride. GINA WILKINSЧитать онлайн книгу.
the end of a very busy week, filled with tours of Daniz in which Lazhar showed her the best of his beloved country, comfortable breakfasts and luncheons with Caroline and Jenna while they went over lists for the wedding-with-no-bride, and long afternoons visiting with King Abbar, Emily felt as if she’d known the family forever. She’d long since fallen completely in love with Daniz’s flowerscented nights, friendly people, narrow winding streets, and golden sandy beaches lapped by the Mediterranean.
Unfortunately she was afraid that she was equally in danger of falling head-over-heels in love with Lazhar. Each hour spent in his company made her admire him more. She knew it was unwise to risk her heart, but found it impossible to avoid him entirely. Not that she tried very hard, she thought, as she sat across a low game table from King Abbar, her elbow propped on the table, her chin resting on her palm while she contemplated her next chess move.
“Is the board that sad?”
King Abbar’s mild voice interrupted her thoughts and Emily looked up to find him watching her with a half smile. “What? Sad?”
“Yes, sad—you sighed. And you’re frowning rather fiercely at your rook and my knight,” he pointed out, nodding at the carved jade chess pieces.
“Oh.” Emily sat up straighter, folding her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, I was thinking of something else when I should have been focused on the game.”
Abbar waved a thin hand in dismissal. “No need to be sorry. The game will wait until this afternoon. Where is my son taking you this morning?”
“I think he mentioned shopping at the bazaar.”
“Ah.” The king’s smile widened. “You’ll enjoy that, I’m sure. Caroline loved to visit the bazaar to buy little trinkets and household goods when we first married. The palace storage rooms were filled with every conceivable thing she may have wanted, but she said we should have our own, bought just for us and our family.” His voice lowered and he leaned forward to whisper. “I suspect the underlying reason was that my wife simply loves to shop.”
Emily laughed. “Many women do,” she whispered back. “I know I do.”
“You do what?”
Lazhar’s lazy inquiry startled Emily. She hadn’t heard him enter his father’s sitting room. She glanced over her shoulder, her heart doing its accustomed little skip as he walked toward the table where she sat with Abbar.
“Love to shop.” She was pleased that her voice was calm and didn’t betray her increased heart rate and faster breathing. “Your father was just telling me that the queen enjoyed shopping in the bazaar as a young bride.”
“She still enjoys the bazaar,” Lazhar said dryly. “She and Jenna can spend hours picking out fresh fruit and vegetables for dinner. And even more hours if the linen maker has a new shipment of lace from Italy.”
The king chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he nodded his agreement. “That’s my Caroline. She barely notices fine diamonds and rubies, but mention handmade lace and she can’t reach the shop quickly enough.”
Emily’s interest was piqued. “Will we visit the shop that carries handmade Italian lace this afternoon?”
“If you’d like.”
“I’d like,” she answered promptly. She moved her knight to a new square, removing one of Abbar’s pawns from the board. “Can we continue our game this afternoon, Your Highness?”
“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, pondering her move and analyzing his possible answering moves. “Take her to the bazaar, Lazhar, and when you return, Emily, we’ll finish our game.”
“Excellent.”
Lazhar held her chair and Emily rose. King Abbar leaned back in his chair, weariness in every line of his thin body but a smile of genuine pleasure on his face as he looked at the two of them standing together. “Enjoy yourselves.”
They crossed the room and were on the threshold when Abbar spoke. “I’m delighted with your choice of a bride, Lazhar. You have my blessing.”
Emily froze, her startled, disbelieving gaze flying to Lazhar, but he was looking at his father and she couldn’t see his eyes.
“Thank you, Father.”
Before Emily could speak, Lazhar’s grip tightened on her arm and he hustled her through the door, past the guards and down the hallway. He threw open the first door across the hall from the suite they’d just left and urged Emily inside, releasing her to close the door and lock it behind them.
Emily spun to face him. “What did he mean by that? He approves of me as a bride? We have his blessing?”
“My father believes that you’re the woman I’m marrying.”
The blunt statement stunned Emily. She stared at him blankly, trying to assimilate what he’d just told her.
“How did that happen? What made him think we’re getting married?”
“He likes you. You heard him, we have his blessing,” he said obliquely.
“I’m the wedding planner, not the bride.” She thrust her fingers through her hair in agitation. “How could this have happened?” She took three quick steps away from him and spun to stalk back. “You have to tell him. Now.”
“I can’t.”
“Of course you can! You have to.”
“I can’t. He liked you the first time he met you and every day since you arrived, he’s grown more attached to you and to the idea that you’ll be part of his family. I don’t have the heart to tell him you’re not the one.”
“But you’ll have to tell him sooner or later,” she argued, nonplussed at the situation. “He’s going to notice when you say ‘I do’ and the woman standing beside you isn’t me!”
“Yes, he would,” Lazhar said grimly. “If he lives long enough to attend the wedding.”
Emily was shocked into silence. “I had no idea he was…” She paused, a lump in her throat. She swallowed thickly. The lump moved lower, settling under her breastbone. In the short week she’d been in Daniz, she’d developed a genuine fondness for the king. “How long?”
“The doctors can’t, or won’t, give us a date. But not long.” He voice was bleak.
“I’m so sorry, Lazhar.” Needing to comfort him and be consoled in return, Emily stepped closer and laid her hand on his arm.
He instantly covered her fingers with his own, his warm hand trapping hers against his hairroughened, muscled forearm. “I don’t want to disappoint him, Emily. He’s grown very attached to you this week and it would devastate him if he learned that you’re not going to be his daughter-in-law.” His fingers tightened over hers. “Which is why I have to ask for your help.”
“My help? With what?”
“My father’s greatest wish, perhaps his dying wish, is that I marry. I can’t wait six months to find a bride. I need one now. He already loves you, Emily, and wants you as part of our family.” Lazhar paused, then looked into her eyes. “Marry me.”
Chapter Seven
His blunt words struck Emily speechless. She stared at him, thinking for a moment that she’d misheard him. But his face was set, his expression grim and determined; she couldn’t doubt he meant what he said.
Marry me. Under different circumstances, she would have been overjoyed if he’d said those two words. But he wanted to marry for his father’s sake. He didn’t love her. How could she want to say “yes” and “no” all at the same time? she thought wildly.
Her usual cool composure was destroyed and her panic must have shown