The Park's Empire: Handsome Strangers...: The Prince's Bride. GINA WILKINSЧитать онлайн книгу.
without his daughter and wife stirring up more. He wanted Anna to remain in Switzerland, safely tucked away as she had been during all the years since he’d first forced her to go there.
With quick decision, he picked up the phone and punched in the phone number for Sam Fields, an investigator he’d used in the past. He’d have Jessica followed and her movements reported to him. It was the easiest way to learn what she and her mother were up to.
Emily’s office was organized chaos.
“It’s barely nine o’clock and I’m already behind.”
Emily glanced up. Her assistant, Jane, stood in the doorway, the neon-blue pencil tucked above her ear a bright spot of color against the corkscrew blond curls that brushed her shoulders. The bright blue was repeated in the paisley scarf draped artistically over one shoulder of her simple little black dress.
“It’s crazy-busy today,” Emily agreed. “Did you find the lilies for the Everston wedding?”
“Yes.” Jane’s pixie face lit with satisfaction. “It took five calls but I finally located some in Seattle. They’re being flown down this afternoon.”
“Excellent.” Emily sighed with relief and took a sip of her vanilla latte. “How Mrs. Everston could have forgotten to tell us until the day before the wedding that her daughter simply must have lilies at the altar is beyond me.”
Jane shrugged philosophically. “That’s a mother-of-the-bride for you—stressed and forgetful. I’m just thankful she didn’t want something that had to be flown in from South America or China!”
“Good point.” Emily saluted Jane with her logo-stamped paper cup from the espresso stand on the corner. “It could have been worse.”
“Emily?” Natalie, the receptionist in Emily’s three-person office, joined Jane in the doorway. Her air of suppressed excitement was palpable.
Emily eyed her with curiosity. “What is it, Natalie?”
“You’ll never guess who’s on the phone.”
“Who?” Emily and Jane waited expectantly.
“An aide to Prince Lazhar, the Crown Prince of Daniz.”
Emily’s eyes widened and she exchanged a quick, surprised glance with Jane. “Prince Lazhar? Of Daniz? What does he want?”
“He wants to schedule an appointment for the prince to meet with you this afternoon.”
Emily didn’t need to glance at her calendar. She already knew what her day looked like. She shook her head. “I can’t possibly, Natalie. Maybe tomorrow.” She flipped her desk calendar open to the following day.
“Emily, you can’t tell a European prince that he has to go on a waiting list,” Jane said firmly. “Especially not this prince. It’s all over the tabloids that he’s looking for a wife. Maybe he wants you to handle the wedding.”
Emily was unconvinced. “I doubt it, Jane. You’re talking about a royal wedding. I’ve never handled anything of that magnitude…I’m sure he’ll hire a bigger firm, maybe from London or Paris, perhaps New York.”
“You’ll never know unless you talk to him,” Jane urged.
Emily glanced at Natalie and received an eager nod of agreement.
“All right.” She turned the page of her calendar to today’s date and skimmed it quickly. “This is impossible,” she murmured, as she ran her fingertip down the list, shaking her head. “I really don’t have any openings, but…tell his aide that I’ll squeeze the prince in between the Benedict fitting and the Powell catering conference.”
“Excellent.” Natalie grinned. “I’ve always wanted to meet a real prince.” She disappeared down the hall.
“You’re squeezing a royal prince in between an Atlanta socialite and a California movie star?” Jane lifted her eyebrows.
“That’s the best I could do. Katherine Powell is always late so I’m hoping I’ll have a few moments before she makes her entrance. Speaking of which.” Emily glanced at her watch. “I’m already behind.”
“This is where I came in. Back to work for me.” Jane waggled her fingers at Emily and disappeared down the hall. A moment later, Emily heard the murmur of her voice as she spoke on the phone.
“The prince of Daniz.” Emily said softly, staring blankly at the blinking cursor on her computer screen. The news of the king of Daniz’s declining health and his wish to see his son wed had been well chronicled in the press. What reason other than business could possibly have sparked his request for an appointment? Was it possible that the prince might actually be considering hiring her to plan his wedding? The prospect of the assignment and what it would do for the future of Creative Weddings was tantalizing.
She shook her head and yanked her thoughts back to the file open on her desk. She had far too much work to do today. Daydreaming about planning a royal wedding would have to wait.
Fortunately for Emily, the Atlanta socialite had booked a late luncheon and needed to cut her appointment with Emily short. Emily ushered the young bride-to-be and her mother out the door, walked to the ladies’ room to freshen her makeup, and was just slicking color onto her lips when Natalie burst into the room.
“He’s here!” Natalie’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “And he’s just as gorgeous in person as he is in print!”
“Is that possible?” Emily teased.
“Trust me.” Natalie fanned her face with her fingers. “In his case, it’s more than possible. It’s a fact.”
“Now I’m even more curious about the mysterious prince,” Emily commented. She gave her reflection in the mirror one last inspecting glance, smoothed her palm over the scarlet suit jacket and across the hip of her pencil-slim skirt, and satisfied that she was tidy, followed Natalie into the hallway. They reached the reception area and Natalie veered off to her desk near the entry, gesturing significantly across the room. A tall, dark-haired man stood with his back to them, looking at a collection of French Impressionist prints on the wall.
“Your Highness?”
He glanced over his shoulder as Emily approached, then turned to face her.
Oh my goodness, she thought as she met the impact of eyes so dark a brown that they appeared black. Natalie was right, he’s drop-dead gorgeous.
His lashes narrowed, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe and leaving a trail of heat in its wake.
“Miss Parks?”
“Yes, I’m Emily Parks. And you must be Prince Lazhar.” And you, she thought, are a dangerous man. Not only was he handsome, with hair as black and glossy as a crow’s wing, olive skin stretched taut over the planes of high cheekbones, black lashes so long and thick that it seemed a crime to waste them on a man, and a powerful body that was six feet four inches of toned muscle and hard angles, but he fairly oozed testosterone and radiated sex appeal. She wasn’t sure what protocol required when greeting a royal prince, but held out her hand and managed a polite smile.
“Please, call me Lazhar.” He smiled and took her hand in his. His fingers and palm were slightly rough against her own smooth skin.
“Very well…Lazhar.” Realizing that her hand was still enclosed in his warm, much larger one, she took a step back, the small, evasive movement slipping her hand from his. She gestured to the archway leading to the hall and the offices that opened off it. “Won’t you come into my office?” She glanced at Natalie and found her pretending to read a file while slanting sideways, fascinated looks at the prince. “Natalie, will you bring us coffee, please.”
“Right away.”
Emily’s skin prickled with awareness as Lazhar walking behind her out of the reception area and down the short hallway to her