The Park's Empire: Handsome Strangers...: The Prince's Bride. GINA WILKINSЧитать онлайн книгу.
hope you’re right,” she muttered. “Okay.” She drew a deep breath. “We’ll tell them tonight?”
“Yes—unless you’d like to tell Jenna and Mother now. The sooner the better as far as I’m concerned, but the timing is up to you.”
Emily glanced down at herself, her lashes lowering and shielding her eyes from him. His gaze followed hers, skimming the curves beneath the simple rose-pink sundress she wore. Strappy leather sandals left her feet nearly bare, her toenails painted with a rose enamel that matched the dress.
“I’m not dressed for an important occasion—and telling your mother that I’m going to be your wife is very important.”
Lazhar thought she looked good enough to eat, but if she felt the need for a less casual outfit, he was amenable. “Then let’s go to the bazaar as we originally planned, and while we’re out, we’ll stop at a jeweler’s and pick out a ring.”
A flash of panic moved over her face, quickly replaced by resolution. She visibly straightened and tilted her chin slightly.
“That sounds like a good plan. Perhaps we can tell your parents and Jenna at dinner tonight?”
“If that’s what you’d like to do.”
“I would.”
The trip to the bazaar, followed by a visit to an exclusive jewelry store near the Jewel Market, marked the beginning of a whirlwind day for Emily. She worried all afternoon about the prospect of telling Lazhar’s family that she would be his bride, but after the initial surprise, both Caroline and Jenna were elated. King Abbar was equally pleased, though he believed that they were merely formally telling him something he already knew.
Now that they knew that Emily was to be the bride, Caroline and Jenna threw themselves wholeheartedly into the preparations for the wedding. They agreed with Lazhar that the ceremony should take place as soon as possible and together, they decided to set the date for a Saturday, two weeks away.
Given the army of assistants available to the royal family, Emily thought pulling off a wedding this big in two weeks might be possible, but just barely. She’d organized several hundred weddings over the last few years, but this time, she knew she would not only have to coordinate all the details of the gala event, but she would also have to handle all of the things that only a bride could do—like standing perfectly still for an hour while the designer bridal gown was fitted.
She desperately needed Jane.
Before Lazhar left the family gathering to escort his father back to his room, Emily told him her plan to enlist Jane’s help. Then she pleaded exhaustion from the eventful day and returned to her suite. She kicked off her shoes, grabbed the phone and dialed Jane’s home number in San Francisco.
Jane picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Jane, thank goodness I caught you in.”
“Emily? Is that you? Where are you?”
“I’m in Daniz, and yes, it’s me. I think.” Emily padded into the bedroom and sank onto the comfortable bed. The linens were turned back invitingly, the lemon-yellow silk sheets subtly rich against the leaf-green of the coverlet.
“You think?” Jane’s voice sharpened with concern. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes and no.” Emily tucked her feet under her to sit cross-legged, her apricot skirt a pool of lush color against the bed covering. “The good news is, Creative Weddings is definitely going to plan the Daniz royal family wedding…”
Jane’s crow of delight interrupted her.
“…the bad news,” Emily continued when Jane calmed. “Is that I’m the bride.”
“What?”
“I know,” Emily acknowledged, easily picturing the disbelief and confusion that must be visible on her friend’s pixie face. “It’s a long story, Jane, and I’ll explain everything, I promise. But first, I need to know how quickly you can get here. What’s the schedule like at the office?”
“Actually it’s not too bad. Once the clients knew that you were in Daniz to consult with the prince about his wedding, they were so delighted that they might be sharing their wedding consultant with a royal family that they’ve all been amazingly cooperative. Also, the staff from the Daniz Embassy has been incredible. One of the women, Trina, is a natural and Katherine Powell adores her. In fact, I think she’s trying to talk her into going back to Hollywood to work as her personal assistant.”
“Really?” Emily laughed. “I hope Trina has a lot of patience.”
“That’s what I told her. Katherine is definitely high maintenance—which of course, is probably one of the issues that you’re concerned about in the office. But you can stop worrying, all is well.”
“That’s a huge relief,” Emily admitted. “Do you think you’ll be able to clear your calendar and fly to Daniz? I can’t do this without you.”
“I think so.” Jane’s voice turned serious. “Emily, are you happy? I have to tell you, when you left here with the prince, it never occurred to me that you were the bride he was searching for.”
“It never occurred to me, either,” Emily assured her. “But, now I am. It’s complicated, Jane, and not something I can explain over the phone. But I’ll tell you everything when you get here, I promise.”
Jane’s sigh came clearly over the phone line. “All right, Emily, but curiosity is killing me. Be prepared to be grilled the moment I get there.”
“I’ll explain it all, I promise, as soon as possible. Now, tell me about the Benedict wedding, did you find the Irish lace that Mrs. Benedict wanted for the gown?”
By the time Jane rang off, after bringing Emily up-to-date on the details of her clients’ plans, Emily was confident that Creative Weddings was functioning smoothly despite her absence.
She returned the portable phone to its base and realized, as a wave of weariness washed over her, that the long day had sapped her energy. She was exhausted. Within a half hour, she’d stripped off the peach-tinted silk gown and hung it away in the closet, showered, pulled on a thigh-length white chemise nightgown, and slipped into bed.
The following morning, Emily had breakfast from a tray in her room while she used her laptop to make lists for the many details of the wedding. At nine-thirty, a servant knocked on her door to deliver an invitation to join the queen for earlymorning tea. It wasn’t until she entered Caroline’s sitting room, however, that she realized that she was the queen’s only guest, neither Jenna, Lazhar, nor the king were present. The queen sat alone at the round, linen-covered table tucked into an alcove looking out on her beloved garden. Filmy draperies let the light in through the floor-to-ceiling windows but kept out the sun’s glare. A delicate English bone china tea service sat in front of her and the table held only two place settings.
Uh-oh. Emily took one look at Caroline’s face and nearly panicked. She knows we lied to her.
“Good morning, Emily.” Caroline’s grave expression lightened with a fleeting smile. “Won’t you join me.”
“Thank you.” Emily sat in one of the dainty, silk-covered rose chairs, shaking out and smoothing her napkin over her lap.
“That will be all, Theresa, I’ll ring if I need you.”
The serving girl nodded, bowed and quit the room.
With the ease of long practice, Caroline poured tea into two fragile teacups, passing one to Emily. “Do try the almond cookies,” she commented as she followed the steaming tea with a small serving plate loaded with pastries and cakes. “They’re one of my favorites and the chef always includes them with my morning and afternoon tea. Although,” she added wryly as she stirred honey into her cup, “I’m sure they’re