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?”