The Park's Empire: Handsome Strangers...: The Prince's Bride

Lazhar knocked at his father’s open bedroom door later that evening.

“Come in.”

King Abbar was in bed. The huge mahogany bedstead had blue silk hangings, tied back with gold cord against the four heavy posts at each corner. The headboard was carved with the royal crest and a dozen fat white pillows cushioned the king’s back against the wood. The pillow shams, sheets, blankets and bedskirt were all white. The king preferred plain over opulent and while he’d left the rest of the palace’s historical decorations intact, he’d stripped his own bedchamber of all gilt and velvet the moment he ascended to the throne. The result was a room that was supremely comfortable and reflected the king’s masculine practicality.

“Good evening, Father. How are you feeling?”

“I’m well, all things considered.”

Lazhar acknowledged the king’s dry comment with a half smile as he walked across the room. Despite his father’s constant reassurances, he knew that each day was a struggle. He searched the lined face and saw the weariness in the droop of eyelids and the slump of thin shoulders once military straight. “Are you sure you want to talk? I can come back in the morning after you’re rested.”

“I’m tired, but that’s nothing new. Don’t fuss, Lazhar, I get enough of that from your mother. Sit, sit.” Abbar gestured at the chair next to the bed, but didn’t wait for Lazhar to drop into it before he continued. “I like your Emily. I confess I had doubts when you told me that you’d chosen Walter Parks’s daughter as your bride, but I was most pleasantly surprised when I met her today. She’s nothing like her father. In fact, I quite liked her.”

Tension that Lazhar hadn’t realized existed eased at his father’s words. Relieved, he crossed one ankle over the opposite knee, leaned back in the chair, and chuckled. “I thought you would. And no, she’s definitely nothing like her father.”

“The connection with Walter Parks may turn out to be more of a problem than an asset. Are you sure you want to be involved in business dealings with him? He has a reputation for ruthlessness among the gem traders.”

“I can handle him.”

“What about the rumors that he’s been involved in illegal activity? I read the newspaper articles you faxed me from San Francisco and I have to wonder whether Parks is a company we should associate ourselves with.”

“What I learned about Parks while I was in San Francisco leads me to believe that the company is strong, but that Walter Parks may have reached the end of what could be a dirty career path. I had the impression that what was printed in the newspaper might be just the tip of the iceberg.”

The king pursed his lips, his gaze shrewd. “And in spite of those problems, you don’t think a business association between Daniz and his company will tarnish our reputation?”

“No. The deal is airtight and I’ve had every aspect of the contract details checked. Walter Parks’s personal life may self-destruct, but the Parks company won’t, certainly not in the mining venture that we’ll be involved in.”

“Very well. Does Emily know about the connection between you and her father?”

“No, and I don’t want her to until I’m ready to tell her.”

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know yet.”

The king shook his head. “She doesn’t appear to be the kind of woman who will easily forgive being lied to.”

“I’m not lying to her. I’ve never told her I didn’t know her father.”

“Hmph. Perhaps not. But you’re lying by omission when you purposely keep silent because you know that the acquaintance would affect how she feels about you.”

“You’re probably right,” Lazhar admitted reluctantly. “I plan to tell her, but not until we know each other better. If I tell her now that I’m considering joining her father in a gem mining operation, she’ll write me off as just another of her father’s business associates obsessed with jewels. I need time.”

“Then you’d better hope that she doesn’t learn the truth before you tell her.” Abbar considered his son for a moment. “What made you choose Emily over all the other women you know? You hadn’t met her before this week, had you?”

“No. I’ve been to San Francisco on business more than once but our paths never crossed at any of the gem market functions and after hearing her comments about how she views the industry, I’m not surprised. I doubt she attended very many jewel conferences.”

“So you literally had never seen her until Walter Parks sent her photo to you?”

“No, I’d never seen her.”

“What was it about her picture that was so intriguing?” King Abbar’s voice was mildly curious.

Lazhar shrugged. “She’s a very beautiful woman.”

“True,” the king agreed. “But there are many beautiful women in the world. And if gossip can be believed, you’ve dated several hundred.”

Lazhar’s gaze sharpened, scanning his father’s face. “Gossip? Who’s been telling you tales?”

Abbar waved a hand dismissingly. “No one important. Don’t worry, Lazhar, I’m aware that you’ve been very circumspect about the women you’ve associated with since college. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know their names, or that I haven’t seen them, either in photos or in person.”

Lazhar shook his head, a slight smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward. “You have eyes and ears everywhere.”

“Yes,” Abbar said mildly. “I’m the king, it’s my job to know these things. And since I’m well aware of the long list of women friends you have, I’m even more curious as to why, out of all the women you know, you chose Emily Parks?”

“Besides the fact that she’s beautiful, well-educated and socially adept so she can cope with the responsibilities of being part of our family, Walter made marriage to her part of his business proposal.”

“Marrying solely to gain an edge in a business deal doesn’t sound wise, Lazhar.” A frown wrinkled Abbar’s forehead.

“That’s not the only reason,” Lazhar said dryly. “I suppose I should admit that I took one look at her picture and wanted to bed her. That didn’t change once I’d met her, in fact, it’s grown stronger.”

“Ah.” The two exchanged a very male look of understanding. “Perhaps not the single best reason for marrying, but certainly important.” Abbar’s shrewd gaze studied Lazhar. “Did you reach any other conclusions about your Emily when you met her face-to-face that convinced you she was the woman you wanted to marry?”

Lazhar had an instant memory of Emily and Walter’s housekeeper talking about her yearning for a family. “Yes.” His gaze met Abbar’s. “She wants to marry and have children, but seems to have given up on the possibility. I can give her what she wants and needs, in return, I’ll get what I want and need. It’s a good bargain.”

“But you haven’t told her any of this?”

“Not yet.”

“Ah.” King Abbar shifted against the pillows. “I think you should find a way to tell her your plans as soon as possible. Women can be unreasonable if they get the misguided impression that we’re not consulting their wishes.”

Lazhar mentally winced. His father was right, he thought, and Emily already had good cause to be displeased with him after he’d whisked her away from San Francisco without consulting her.

“You’re right, Father. I’ll tell her as soon as I can think of a way to bring up the subject without causing her to run straight back to San Francisco.”

“I think you have your work cut out for you, son,” Abbar said with a smile of commiseration.

Lazhar read the growing signs of weariness on his father’s face and in the greater slump of his shoulders. He glanced at his watch and stood. “I promised Emily I’d collect her for dinner. I don’t want her to get lost.” He bent and kissed King Abbar’s forehead. “good-night. I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“good-night, my son.”

Emily planned to wear the Vera Wang cocktail dress that evening, the one she’d first donned for dinner with Lazhar in San Francisco. But when she walked into her closet to look for the little black dress, she gave in to temptation and slipped into a sinfully sexy, ankle-length, emerald-green evening gown. The lace-covered bodice was cut straight across the upper curve of her breasts and the short sleeves cupped her shoulders, leaving the long line of her throat and creamy shoulders bare. The dress was a slim, straight tube of emerald lace over satin, slit up the side to her thigh. Emily stared at her reflection in the mirror. She’d owned designer gowns since she was in her teens but she’d never had a dress that made her feel so alive. The color made her eyes glow a deeper, more mysterious green; her hair gleamed with golden highlights under the dressing room lights; her skin smooth and lightly tan against the delicate emerald lace.

I shouldn’t, she thought, torn with indecision. But on the other hand, will the queen be offended if I don’t wear the clothes she ordered for me?

Her conscience was still arguing with her love of pretty clothes when a light rap sounded at the door. The clock on the mantel read seven forty-five.

“You’re early,” she said as she opened the door for Lazhar and turned to collect her Palm Pilot from the delicate French table just inside the doorway.