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

“I’ve just arrived—the trip wasn’t on my schedule and my aides didn’t have time to contact you.”

Emily glanced from her brother to Lazhar. “You two know each other?”

“Yes. Of course.” Cade grinned at her. “But I didn’t know you and Lazhar were acquainted.”

“We just met today,” she said calmly. Cade was her fraternal twin and loved to tease her as if they were still twelve-year-olds. When his eyes twinkled, she knew he’d jumped to the conclusion that she was dating the handsome prince and was going to comment. “But I’m looking forward to doing business with him,” she said smoothly, before he could speak.

Cade blinked at her and she could almost see his brain shift gears.

“Business? What kind of business?”

“Wedding planning, of course,” she said, leaning forward to press a kiss on his cheek. “Give my love to Stacy and tell her I’ll see her tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Cade nodded at Lazhar as the prince handed Emily into the limousine. He bent to peer into the interior, his hazel gaze intent. “You’re in good hands with Lazhar, Emily.”

Emily barely had time to wonder what he meant by the cryptic comment before the bodyguard closed the door and the limo pulled smoothly away from the curb. She glanced back to see Cade standing on the sidewalk, watching them drive away.

“How is it that you know my brother?” she asked Lazhar as the car eased into traffic.

“We met some months ago when he came to Daniz to visit the Jewel Market.”

“Ah,” Emily replied. Cade was an attorney and he handled much of their father’s contracts for the Parks jewelry store; he was being trained as the heir apparent to succeed when Walter retired. Not that anyone who knew Walter thought he would ever retire, in fact, it was generally agreed that he’d probably die at his desk, working on a new deal. But nevertheless, Walter considered Cade his heir and demanded that his son spend a large amount of time on Parks Empire business interests. “So you’re in the gem industry, like my father?”

“Not quite like your father, I suspect,” he corrected gently. “For centuries, the Daniz Jewel Market has been a center for international jewel dealers and gem trading is important to my country. Because my family rules Daniz, I’m involved by necessity with the Market, but gems aren’t my sole business.”

“So you’re not obsessed with jewels?”

His dark eyes were grave. “No, Emily, I’m not obsessed with jewels. I have neither the time nor the inclination. I’m deeply committed to the people of Daniz and to my family and I find they require all my attention.” He shrugged. “I suppose some might call the depth of that commitment obsessive, but I choose to believe otherwise.”

“I find it admirable that you choose people over business interests,” Emily commented, unable to look away from his warm gaze. “In my experience, such a choice is very unusual. My father’s primary commitment is to his business…he’s driven by the next negotiation and making each new contract bigger than the last, with more money, more perfect gems, higher profile clients. The men in his circle that I’ve met, no matter how old or young, all seem to feel the same. It’s refreshing to meet someone who’s involved in the gem industry but whose life is apparently not owned by it.”

Lazhar laughed, white teeth flashing against tanned skin, his dark eyes amused. “I confess that I’ve met traders at the Jewel Market who were willing to sell their soul for the price of a rare diamond, ruby, or sapphire. But I’m not one of them.”

“I’d love to visit the Jewel Market,” Emily said. “I’ve heard it’s a fascinating place.”

“I think so,” Lazhar agreed. “We’ve preserved the building and the interior much as it was when it was first built, three hundred years ago, by the King of Daniz and the Prince of Persia. The mosaic tiles on the floors and walls, the handmade carpets and wall hangings, the gold minarets…all are well worth seeing.” He smiled at Emily. “I’ll give you a tour when you visit my country.”

“I’d like that very much.” He really is charming, Emily thought. The limousine slowed and she realized that she’d been engrossed in their conversation and hadn’t noticed their route. She glanced out the window and then back at the prince, puzzled. “This looks like the airport.”

“It is.” He agreed.

“We’re having dinner at the airport?” She wasn’t aware of a five-star restaurant located at the San Francisco International Airport. Certainly not a restaurant that a man of Lazhar’s caliber would choose, she thought.

“Not at the airport.”

The car slowed and parked beside a sleek jet. The bodyguard seated next to the driver leapt out and opened the door for Lazhar. He exited, turning to hold out a hand to Emily, and she followed him out onto the tarmac. The evening was warm and balmy; a slight breeze lifted her hair, skeining it across her face. She brushed it back, tucking it behind her ear.

They were standing a few feet from the steps leading up to the main cabin of a private jet. The logo on the tail spelled out Daniz in vivid blue and gold. Beside her, Lazhar spoke to one of the bodyguards in what Emily thought was French. Finished, the man nodded, bowed and reentered the car, which pulled away.

“This is your plane?” Curious, she glanced from the jet to Lazhar.

“Yes.” He tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and led her toward the steps. “I think you’ll find it comfortable.”

Emily abruptly stopped walking, her movement halting Lazhar as well. “I’m sure I would,” she said carefully. “If I were traveling on it, but I’m not.”

“Actually we are.” Lazhar’s smile flashed, his dark eyes teasing. “And our destination is a surprise. I think you’ll find the food well worth the trip.”

“We’re flying out of town for dinner?”

“Yes.”

Uncertain, Emily hesitated. She didn’t know Lazhar well enough to get aboard a plane with him headed for an unknown destination. On the other hand, Cade did know him well and had assured her that he was trustworthy. Her brother’s recommendation overcame her innate wariness and she gave in.

“Very well—if you promise the food is worth the flight.”

“I promise.” Lazhar led her up the steps to the cabin.

“Good evening, Your Highness.” The whitecoated steward greeted them with a bow.

“Good evening, Carlos.” Lazhar seated Emily in one of the high-backed, upholstered seats next to the window with a small table between them. Both chairs and table were bolted securely to the floor and the chairs had seat belts. Behind him, the steward closed the outer door as the powerful jet engines rumbled to life, vibrating the cabin floor beneath Emily’s feet.

“I need to talk to the captain for a moment, please make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long.”

Emily murmured an assent, her gaze following Lazhar until he disappeared through the door at the end of the cabin. The summerweight, pale gray suit he wore was beautifully made and clearly custom tailored to fit his long legs and broad shoulders.

She sighed and shook her head at her own foolishness. Lazhar Eban was engaged to be married—already taken and off-limits. And even if he were available, he wasn’t her type of man at all. He was much too high profile, too powerful and too rich—all qualities that her father also possessed. Emily had intimate knowledge of just how difficult it could be to live with such a man.

On the other hand, Lazhar Eban was quite possibly the handsomest, sexiest man she’d ever met.

“If you’ll fasten your seat belt, ma’am, we’re about to take off.” The steward advised.

“Of course.”

He nodded his thanks when Emily clipped the latch and tugged the belt snugly across her abdomen. He left the cabin, Emily assumed to take his own seat elsewhere, and in moments, the sleek jet taxied down a runway and lifted smoothly into the air. She glanced out the window to see the Golden Gate Bridge appear off the wingtip before fluffy white clouds obscured her view.

Lazhar must have had to remain in the cockpit with a seat belt on, until we’re airborne, she thought as she gazed curiously around the luxurious cabin. The interior of the Daniz royal family’s jet was unlike any private plane she’d ever been on. There wasn’t a utilitarian piece of furniture in sight, even the sturdy chair she sat in was upholstered in a glorious deep blue fabric that felt like rough silk. Her feet rested on a thick carpet with jewel tones of scarlet-red, cobalt-blue, antique-gold and pearl-white that complemented the cabin fittings. The walls were a discreet, smooth pearlywhite, the wooden doors a deep mahogany set into arched doorjambs that reminded her of Spanish architecture. A collection of small French Impressionist paintings were clustered on one wall, their muted colors glowing against gold frames. Emily’s gaze lingered on the unique furnishings that made the plane’s interior as comfortable as a lavish hotel suite, and she was reminded that Daniz bordered Spain, France and the Mediterranean. Clearly the royal family enjoyed the best of all their cultures.

The plane climbed steeply and it wasn’t until it finally leveled out that Lazhar rejoined her, the steward following closely on his heels with a tray holding a chilled bottle of wine and two stemmed glasses.

Lazhar took the two filled glasses from Carlos’s tray and handed one to Emily. “To your health—and to our successful business enterprise.”

“To a beautifully organized wedding ceremony,” Emily responded, tilting her glass in salute before tasting the wine. “Mmm, delicious.”

“It’s a Spanish vintage from the Penedes region.” Lazhar dropped into the chair next to her and lifted his glass to eye the golden liquid. “And a favorite of my father’s.”

“And of yours?”

“And of mine,” he agreed.