Читать книгу The Park's Empire: Handsome Strangers...: The Prince's Bride - GINA WILKINS - Страница 15

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 on her face because his gaze softened, the hard lines of his face easing.

“I can see I’ve shocked you.”

She pulled her fingers from beneath his, turning to pace away several steps before facing him again. “That’s an understatement.” She thrust her fingers through her hair, thoroughly unsettled. “It’s noble of you to want to move heaven and earth to make your father happy, but marriage seems like a drastic step.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his face inscrutable. “The marriage can be annulled, after—” He stopped speaking.

Emily’s heart hurt at the unspoken acknowledgment that his father’s time with the family was limited. In the short week she’d been in Daniz and observed Lazhar with his father, she’d realized that the father-son bond between them was undeniably powerful. And even though her acquaintance with the king was of short duration, she, too, felt a deep affection for him.

“How long…” She paused as her voice wavered, tears clogging her throat. “How long do the doctors think he has?”

Lazhar’s answer shocked her.

Should she do this? Could she do this—marry a man for a few weeks in name only?

Emily had a quick mental image of King Abbar smiling at her as they played chess, heard again his words of praise and gentle pride in her when Lazhar told him about the child in the street, remembered the love on Caroline’s and Jenna’s faces when they spoke of him.

The slight headache she’d woke with that morning grew a little stronger and she rubbed her aching temples with her fingertips.

“Isn’t there someone else that can be your pretend-bride?” She gave up trying to ease the headache. “I’m sure I read somewhere that royal families pick out fiancées for their children the day they’re born. Don’t you have one of those?”

“No, I don’t.” He shook his head, a bemused smile lifting the corner of his mouth. “Where did you read that?”

“Probably somewhere on the Internet,” Emily said, refusing to be distracted.

“And even if I did have a childhood fiancée,” Lazhar continued. “It wouldn’t change the fact that you’re the one my father wants. You’re the only person that can do this, Emily.”

“You’re sure? You’re absolutely positive that there’s no alternative solution?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’d have to talk to Jane about the schedule at the office.” She frowned at the swift satisfaction that flashed in his eyes and was just as quickly banked. “I’m not promising that I’ll do this,” she warned him. “But I want to help. I’ve grown attached to your father in the time I’ve been here and if it’s at all possible for me to be away from the office for a couple more weeks, I’ll go along with your scheme. But I can’t destroy my business in the process.”

“Understood.” He nodded. “And thank you, Emily, you won’t be sorry.”

She thrust her fingers through her hair again, ruffling it even more. “I hope not.” She wasn’t convinced, but was willing to try to work out a solution.

“Your firm won’t be hurt financially,” he assured her. “And it’s probable that the cachet of planning a royal wedding will enhance your business portfolio, so in the long run, Creative Weddings may be a stronger company.”

“True.” Emily agreed. She looked away from him, considering the possible complications her agreement to pose as his fiancée might cause. “What about the publicity factor?”

“What about it?”

“I’m assuming that the reporters will find out about our pretend engagement, whether you tell them or not. How will you explain a marriage that only lasts for a few weeks?”

“I’ll deal with that when the time comes. Since that won’t happen until my father is gone, I’ll have bigger issues to cope with and the gossip about my short marriage probably won’t seem that important.”

“No. I suppose it won’t.” Suddenly the details of how a pseudoengagement and marriage would work didn’t seem important to Emily, either. They were small indeed, compared to the loss of a man who was a beloved father, husband and ruler over a country whose residents adored him and would deeply mourn his passing. “All right,” she said with sudden decision. “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent.” The fine tension that held him dissipated, his voice filled with relief.

“We have to tell your mother and Jenna the truth.”

“No.” Lazhar was adamant. “My mother can’t keep a secret from my father. He’ll know she’s hiding something and when he asks, she’ll spill everything. And Jenna’s the same with my mother. Neither of them can lie to each other or to my father.”

“Which means that I have to lie to them.” Emily narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t lie.”

The corners of his mouth quirked, his eyes amused. “You never lie?”

“Not purposely.” She lifted an eyebrow at his patent disbelief. “Lies create only losing situations and they can destroy lives.”

“True.” He eyed her consideringly for a moment. “I agree with you, Emily, but in this instance, telling my mother or Jenna is tantamount to telling my father. And if he knows our marriage isn’t real, then none of this will work.”

She wasn’t happy. And when she wasn’t happy, her bottom lip plumped out in a very un-Emily-like—and sexy—pout. Lazhar badly wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless but he kept a tight rein on the urge. He’d been struggling to control the instinct to claim her ever since she’d agreed to their marriage and elation had roared through him.

He knew she was attracted to him. He also knew she was fighting it. She was skittish around him, holding him at arm’s length with polite conversation, but when they were body to body, his mouth on hers, she melted like hot wax.

He’d crossed his fingers inside his pockets when he’d told her that their marriage could be annulled. He was gambling that before they reached that point, she’d admit that the marriage worked. It was true he wanted her to marry him because his father had quickly become attached to her, but with each day that he spent with her, he increasingly wanted her for himself.

He didn’t just want her, he craved her.

And that had never happened with any other woman.

Lazhar refused to think about what that might mean beyond the fact that the sexual attraction between them was hotter, more compelling, than anything he’d ever felt before.

“There has to be a way to do this without lying to everybody,” she insisted.

“Not that I can think of.” He shook his head. “My father is still the king and the ruler of Daniz, despite his poor health. He has contacts and sources that even I’m unaware of—if we tell anyone that our engagement and wedding aren’t real, he’ll find out.”

Clearly unhappy, Emily frowned and gave in. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “But I still think it’s wrong.”

“So do I,” he agreed. “But I can’t come up with an alternative. We can’t tell anyone, and we have to go through the traditional courtship phases, otherwise, Father will never believe us.”

“Traditional courtship? What does that entail…exactly?”

Lazhar managed not to smile. Despite his casual words, she had immediately honed in on the courtship reference and she was eyeing him with suspicion. “Probably pretty much what makes up an American courtship—spending time together, meeting the parents, receiving an engagement ring, a presentation ball, instruction by the protocol officer as to the duties of a princess and future queen.” He shrugged. “Just the usual stuff.”

“Just the usual stuff,” she repeated. “Protocol lessons on how to act when the bride is a princess and future queen, and a presentation ball? Trust me, Lazhar, those are not part of an everyday, normal American courtship.”

“Perhaps not, but the rest is perfectly ordinary. Given your background as the daughter of wealthy parents and your business experience in navigating society weddings, you’re uniquely prepared to cope with the palace rules that govern my family’s public life.”

“I 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 responsible for that last stubborn five pounds that I just can’t seem to budge, no matter how much I diet.”

“I think we all struggle with ‘the last five pounds,’” Emily said.

“Some of us more than others.” Caroline’s smile faded. “I wanted to talk with you privately about the wedding, Emily.”

Emily managed not to wince, but just barely.

“I know my son can be very persuasive and difficult to refuse when he wants something,” Caroline continued, “but if he’s pressured you, in any way, to convince you to marry quickly, you must tell me and I’ll talk to him. A woman’s wedding day is very important and you should have the day you’ve always dreamed of—you shouldn’t be so rushed that your big moment is spoiled.”

Emily had braced herself to hear the queen demand an explanation of the lies she and Lazhar had told her about their pretend engagement and marriage. She was so surprised by the queen’s offer to intercede on her behalf, that she was at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say,” she managed finally.

“Just tell me what’s in your heart,” Caroline said encouragingly.

Emily remained silent, frantically trying to think of a way to explain without telling further lies.

When she didn’t speak, Caroline lifted her cup and sipped, eyeing Emily over the rim. “Marrying into the royal family can be an overwhelming prospect. Believe me, I had concerns before I said yes to Abbar, and they didn’t all go away before the wedding, nor even immediately after,” she added, returning the delicate cup to its saucer. “Let me be frank, Emily. I know my son well and I have no concerns about his desire for this marriage. However, I have the feeling that you may be having second thoughts about the wedding.”

“No.” Emily didn’t have to lie about this—all of the reasons she’d agreed to marry Lazhar were still valid. She understood his driving need to grant what may well turn out to be his father’s last wish.

“Then you do love my son?” Caroline asked gently.

She should immediately say “yes.” She knew she should. Not only was it what Caroline needed to hear, but it was also the first truth in all the lies she’d been mouthing since she’d agreed to cooperate with Lazhar’s plan.

But for her heart’s sake, Emily knew she should say no. She should deny loving Lazhar, both to Caroline, and to the prince himself.

He’s going to break my heart, she thought, acknowledging the fear that had subconsciously tormented her ever since she’d agreed to marry him.

Falling in love with a royal prince who only wanted a temporary wife was emotional suicide. How could she have let this happen, she thought wildly. Now that the date was set and they were publicly committed to the wedding, she realized that she desperately wanted a real marriage with Lazhar. And there was absolutely no hope of that ever happening.

“Emily?” Caroline’s concerned voice drew Emily out of her thoughts and she realized that the queen was watching her, concern written on her patrician features.

“I’m sorry.” She managed a small smile of apology. “I was distracted.” Her gaze met Caroline’s. “I love Lazhar more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.”

Her voice rang with conviction and her sincerity brought an instant smile of relief and delight to Caroline’s face.

“Well, that answers that,” she said. “And you’re positive you don’t feel pressured to marry sooner than you would like?”

“No, not at all.” And it was true. Emily didn’t mind having the wedding quickly. The sooner begun, the sooner done, she thought. If she focused on the practical aspects of what she was doing, then perhaps she could forget that this wasn’t to be a normal marriage, but a marriage in name only.

“Very well.” Caroline nodded decisively. “Then it’s settled. We can proceed with the arrangements.” She opened a folder lying to the left of her teacup, scanning the top sheet before handing it to Emily. “This is your schedule for the day. A rather full one, I’m afraid, but we’ve much to accomplish if you’re to be married in less than two weeks.”

Emily nodded. The list divided the day into fifteen-minute increments and was booked so completely that she would have little time to spend with Lazhar, and virtually no time to be alone with him. Given the scorching kisses they’d shared, the lack of privacy between them was a good thing, Emily thought, because she wasn’t at all sure she could resist him. And the more physical intimacy between them, the harder it would be to leave him when she had to go back to San Francisco alone.

But as determined as Emily was to keep distance between them, Lazhar was equally determined to have her as close as possible.

He joined Emily, Jenna and Caroline for lunch, only to have his mother whisk Emily away to a meeting with the palace staff, followed by a fitting for her wedding gown. Frustrated, Lazhar bided his time. Before dinner, he leaned against the wall outside the door to her suite, waiting.

His patience was rewarded when Emily opened the door and stepped into the hall, closing it behind her before she turned and saw him. She gasped, her hand flying to the black lace bodice of her gown, to press just over her heart. “Lazhar! You startled me.”

“Sorry.” He threaded his fingers through hers and tucked her arm beneath his, keeping her close as they walked down the hall. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I wanted a few moments alone with you to ask how you’re coping with my family and the wedding plans.”

Emily’s fingers tightened on his. “Your mother asked some very pointed questions at breakfast but I think my answers satisfied her.”

“What did she want to know?”

“She was concerned that rushing the marriage wouldn’t give me the wedding I may have dreamed of having. She was very sweet, actually.” Emily glanced sideways, her gaze meeting his for a moment before her lashes lowered and she looked away, facing forward so that he saw her profile and couldn’t read her eyes. “She volunteered to talk to you and stop the wedding, if I wanted.”

Lazhar tensed. “And what did you tell her?”

“I assured her you hadn’t pressed me to choose an early wedding date.”

“But I did, didn’t I.” Regret flooded him. “I was so focused on marrying you that I didn’t give enough thought to what this might do to your dream of the perfect wedding.” He bit off a curse, impatient with himself for having been so dense. He’d been thinking of their days together as man and wife, and that he could give her the children and home she’d told Brenda she wanted. He’d totally forgotten that the wedding itself might be Emily’s first concern. He should have known better; Jenna had been planning her wedding since she was a little girl. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make the ceremony as close as possible to your dream. Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it for you, Emily. I didn’t mean for you not to have—”

“Lazhar.” She broke in. “There isn’t anything about this wedding that doesn’t exceed all my hopes or expectations.” A smile curved her mouth, her eyes sparkling with laughter when he continued to frown at her. “It’s a royal wedding, for goodness’ sake. What girl doesn’t dream of having a royal wedding?”

“There isn’t some detail you want changed—flowers, the dress, something?” She shook her head in response but he wasn’t convinced. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive.”

Lazhar’s muscles relaxed. “Good. What else did you and my mother discuss?”

“The details of the wedding, mostly we talked about the schedule for the next few days. It’s going to be crazy.”

They reached the closed door to the family dining room. Emily stopped, turning to look up at him. Her green eyes were dark with concern. “I really don’t like lying to your family. I wish we could tell your mother and Jenna the truth.”

“We can’t. I regret it as much as you do, and I respect your wish to tell them what we’re doing, but none of this will work if my father learns the truth. We can’t take that chance.”

She sighed heavily, the fabric of her gown tightening over the swell of her breasts. Lazhar determinedly kept his gaze on her face.

“All right,” she conceded.

Unable to resist, he bent and pressed a quick kiss against her soft mouth. “It will be fine, Emily,” he promised. He pulled open the door. “Have you talked to your family? Are they coming to Daniz for the wedding?”

“I called Brenda—she’s very excited and says she wouldn’t miss it. I couldn’t reach my father but I left a message with his secretary, and I’m waiting to hear from my sister and brothers.”

He nodded, silently acknowledging her comment, mentally making a note to make sure that as many of her family members as possible were present for the occasion.

“By the way,” he said as he opened the door. “The family jet is picking up your friend Jane in San Francisco. She’ll be here late tomorrow evening.”

Her eyes widened, her fingers tightening on his. “Thank you so much.” Delight mixed with relief in her voice.

“No problem. I know you want her help with the wedding details. If there’s anything you need, Emily, you only have to ask.”

They crossed the threshold, entering the dining room to join his family for dinner.

Emily kept reminding herself that her engagement to Lazhar was a sham and their marriage would be solely because of the king’s ill health and Lazhar’s love for him. Nevertheless, with each considerate, thoughtful thing Lazhar did, and with each additional hour spent in his company, she fell more deeply in love with him. Providing his jet to fly Jane to Daniz was such a sweet thing to do, she thought as she donned her pajamas later that evening.

Jane arrived late the next evening and knocked on Emily’s door before eight the next morning. Still in her pajamas, Emily was so glad to see her familiar face beneath her blond curls that she could have cried.

When they were seated comfortably on Emily’s bed, steaming teacups in hand and a plate of the queen’s favorite almond cookies between them, Jane fixed her with a commanding stare.

“All right, tell me everything.”

“Oh, Jane…where should I start…” Emily pushed her tousled hair back from her face.

“Start at the beginning,” Jane said promptly.

“Very well. As you know, the original plan was to spend a week or so here in Daniz, gathering information to put together a proposal for Creative Weddings to handle Lazhar’s wedding.”

Jane nodded, her eyes gleaming with interest behind her wire-frame glasses.

“Somehow, the king misunderstood. Instead of seeing me as a consultant who perhaps might be hired to plan his son’s wedding, he decided that I was the woman Lazhar had chosen for a bride. And before I could untangle the confusion and explain to him who I really was, Lazhar convinced me to go through with the wedding.”

“Did he seduce you? Threaten you?” Jane bristled.

“No, of course not,” Emily said hastily. “The media reports about the king being ill and wanting to see Lazhar married before he dies are true, Jane. He’s very, very ill. He’s also one of the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful men I’ve ever met.” She stared into her teacup without really seeing the amber liquid. “I’m not sure how it happened, but I’ve grown so attached to him in the short time I’ve been here that I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him by telling him I wasn’t marrying Lazhar.”

Jane’s face was troubled, her brown eyes filled with concern. “But Emily, how can you marry the prince just to make his father happy? What chance will your marriage have if you start out on such shaky ground?”

Emily trusted Jane completely and she badly needed to tell someone the truth. She leaned forward so her whispered words would only reach Jane’s ears. “It isn’t a real marriage, Jane. His physicians have told the family the king has very little time left and after he’s gone, the marriage will be annulled.”

Shocked, Jane’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding?”

“No, I’m absolutely serious.”

“So, your marriage to the gorgeous prince is a complete fake? The big wedding, the title of princess—it’s all only for a few days, or weeks, and then it’s over?”

“Yes.”

“And when it’s over, what then? Do you come back to San Francisco and go back to running Creative Weddings as if nothing happened?”

“That’s the plan.” Except I doubt that my life will ever be the same again, Emily thought.

“Wow.” Jane shook her head in astonishment, visibly trying to absorb the impact of what Emily had just confided to her. “This is wild.” Her eyes narrowed. “You can’t let the press know,” she said firmly. “They’d rip you to shreds. Heaven knows what kind of spin they’d put on your story, but it wouldn’t be kind.”

“I know,” Emily agreed. “You’re the only person, besides Lazhar and myself, who knows this isn’t a real engagement. He won’t even let me tell his mother and sister, because he swears they can’t keep anything from his father and we don’t want him to know the truth, of course.”

“What are you getting out of this, Emily? I mean—” Jane shook her head, her gaze shrewd “—it’s easy to see what Lazhar gets, but what about you?”

“I get exactly what I hoped to get when I came here—I’ll plan a royal wedding. The cachet of that connection for Creative Weddings will be invaluable and my business will expand from the States to Europe.”

“But if you’re divorced shortly after you marry, you’ll be notorious. The tabloids will go crazy.”

“True.” Emily shrugged. “But I doubt that will harm the business. In fact, the attraction of having an ex-princess as their wedding planner might pull in more clients.”

“You’re probably right,” Jane said dryly. “Americans love celebrities. What about your fee for all this?”

“You mean for planning the wedding?”

“Yes.” Jane nodded. “And for posing as the bride. Is he doubling the usual fee for your services?”

“No. In fact, I insisted that Lazhar have his attorneys draw up a prenup agreement that dealt with all the financial issues. I’m sure the palace would have done it anyway, but I wanted to be sure it covered our particular circumstances. He assured me he would find a way to word the agreement so no one knows we plan to separate quickly.”

Jane’s eyes darkened, her expression worried, a tiny frown veeing her eyebrows as her lips pursed.

“What?” Emily waited, sure that Jane had something important to say.

“Are you sure you can do this and survive with your heart in one piece, Emily?”

Emily had never managed to conceal her emotions from her best friend. She couldn’t lie to her. It was so like Jane to cut to the heart of the matter. “No, I’m not sure. But I’m sure I want to do this.” Jane looked unconvinced and Emily knew she couldn’t explain the connection she felt to King Abbar. “I know this probably doesn’t make sense to you, but I’m positive that I want to do it. I’ve only known the king a very short time but I felt an instant affinity with him—almost as if he were the father I always wanted.”

“And never had,” Jane put in, her tone leaving Emily in no doubt of the dislike she felt for Walter Parks.

“No, my father isn’t anyone’s idea of the perfect parent,” Emily conceded. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a man who’s clearly adored by his family. If taking a few weeks of my life to play the role of princess will make him die happy, then I’m willing to do so.” She waved a hand at the room where they sat. “And it’s not as if I’m enduring any hardships to do it, Jane. Not only is my business gaining stature, but I’m living in a palace, visiting exotic locales, meeting fascinating people. All very good stuff.”

Jane shook her head, her blond hair brushing her shoulders. “I can’t argue with any of the benefits of this arrangement you’ve agreed to. But, you’re the last person in the world I’d expect to be involved in something like this, Emily.”

“What do you mean?”

Jane spread her hands, tea sloshing dangerously close to the rim of the delicate cup in her hand as she gestured. “You never lie. I don’t think I’ve even heard you utter a half-truth to anyone. Oh, sure, you’re diplomatic and sometimes you don’t tell the stark truth. Like the time Mrs. DiAngelo asked you if an avocado-green dress was perfect for her as mother-of-the-bride, and you managed to convince her that the pale pink evening suit was more flattering to her complexion. If you’d told her the real truth,” Jane said darkly, “you would have told her that she has excruciatingly bad taste in clothes and the green dress was unspeakably ugly. Which is exactly what I wanted to tell her.”

Laughter surprised Emily, lightening her mood. “Thank goodness you didn’t tell her that, Jane.”

“I wanted to.” Jane sipped her tea and lifted an eyebrow, surprised. “Yum, this is wonderful.”

“The queen has it mixed specially for her. It’s delicious, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I know you love tea, Emily, but it’s never been my favorite. However, I could be convinced to drink this every morning. And these cookies are incredible.” She took one from the plate and ate it in two small bites.

“Those are the queen’s favorites, too. The palace chef makes them specially for her and since she knows I love them, she asked him to always serve them with my tea tray, just as he does for her.”

Jane heaved a theatrical sigh. “Are you sure there’s no way this marriage can’t be permanent? Because I have to tell you, Emily, living in the palace has definite perks, not to mention the fact that Prince Lazhar is absolutely gorgeous.”

Emily smiled and shook her head. “No, I’m afraid not. But for the moment—” she lifted a cookie from the plate and saluted Jane with it “—we can indulge in all the perks we want.” She popped the dainty cookie in her mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Or as many as we can fit in between the endless list of things to accomplish before the wedding day.”

Jane rolled her eyes, set her cup aside and dusted off her fingers. “Where’s the list? And do you really think we can pull off a royal wedding in less than two weeks? I thought you originally said that six months was going to be an extremely tight schedule.”

“Six months would have been difficult, and two weeks would be impossible if the family hadn’t agreed to an abbreviated version of the traditional royal wedding.” She slipped off the bed, walked into the sitting room to collect her notebook from the table where she’d left it late the night before, and returned to rejoin Jane. “Here’s the schedule for today,” she handed Jane the sheet prepared by the queen’s secretary.

Jane silently scanned the schedule before looking back up at Emily. “You’re booked in fifteen-minute increments, Emily.” She glanced at her watch. “Starting in forty minutes. What can I take care of on this list for you today?”

“I thought you could take my notes and check in with the palace protocol officer—he’s coordinating the church and reception invitations and seating. Then the palace florist needs some personal attention—I’m confident that they know exactly what I want, but I don’t want to ignore them. It’s important that everyone feels they’re a vital part of the team.”

“Of course.” Jane glanced at her watch again. “You’d better finish getting dressed. You only have thirty-eight minutes left before your first appointment.”

“Right.” Emily slipped off the bed and moved quickly to the bathroom. She paused at the door to look back. “Jane, I’m so glad you’re here to help me. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your flying in at such short notice.”

“Are you kidding? I’d have been furious if you hadn’t called me.” Jane’s face lit with a grin and she winked at Emily. “This is going to be great fun. Now get dressed.”

Feeling immeasurably relieved and cheered by Jane’s practical approach, Emily disappeared into the bathroom.