The Park's Empire: Handsome Strangers...: The Prince's Bride. GINA WILKINS
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Francisco newspapers publicly accused the American gem trader of questionable business practices. When he told Walter that he was reconsidering, Walter sweetened the deal by offering his daughter, Emily, as the bride Lazhar needed. The investigative report faxed to him from his security force as he flew over the Atlantic reflected an image of a sophisticated woman from a rich family, educated in private schools, who had built a thriving wedding consultant business in the years since graduation from college. His investigator could find no indication that Emily was currently involved with anyone, nor that she had been so since a canceled engagement some three years before. Emily appeared to be focused on her career, with her social life existing only as an extension of her work.
Given the fact that she was one of the most beautiful women Lazhar had ever seen, he found it nearly impossible to believe that she wasn’t involved with someone, but it appeared that she was not.
Which was all the better for him, he’d thought with satisfaction.
But in person, Emily Parks wasn’t quite what he’d expected.
The beautiful face in the photo had fascinated him with the faint vulnerability behind the cool green gaze and the hint of passion in the sulky mouth. But the fleeting expression of stark loneliness that he glimpsed on Emily’s face as she spoke with Brenda struck a powerful chord within him, calling to him on a level far deeper than her surface beauty.
She wanted to believe in fairy tales again.
A woman who once believed in fairy tales is a romantic, he thought, she’ll never agree to a business merger marriage. His eyes narrowed as Emily pushed her hair back from her face and smiled warmly at Brenda. Even that small, graceful gesture from her was enough to send his blood pounding a little harder.
To hell with it. He wanted her. And he was going to have her, he vowed. It was good fortune that his need for a wife coincided with finding a woman that he wanted to bed.
But after overhearing Emily and Brenda’s conversation, he knew he needed a change of plan. He was convinced there was no chance that she’d meekly agree to marry where her father commanded. Lazhar turned away from the mirror’s reflection of the two women in the kitchen, moved silently back down the hallway, crossed the marble floor of the entry to the library and tapped on the heavy door.
“Come in.”
Walter Parks looked up as Lazhar entered, a distracted frown quickly replaced by an affable smile of welcome.
“Lazhar, come in, come in.” He gestured at the leather-covered chairs facing his desk. “Have a seat.”
“Thank you.” Lazhar dropped into the chair, his gaze flicking to the single sheet of paper in Walter’s hand. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”
“No, not at all.” Walter’s fingers closed, slightly crumpling the sheet of paper before he dropped it atop his desk. “What can I do for you?”
“I’ve changed my mind about Emily.”
Walter’s tanned, lined face flushed, his cold brown eyes narrowing. “Why? Has she done something to offend you? Because if she has, I’ll talk to her—”
Lazhar gestured abruptly, cutting off the older man’s comments. “No, she’s done nothing. In fact, I haven’t even been introduced to her. I’ve simply rethought our original plan and decided that I don’t want her to know about our business arrangement. I’ll introduce myself and let matters take a more natural course.”
“Ah, I see.” Beneath his salt and pepper hair, Walter’s eyebrows rose, deepening the cynical expression on his leathered face. “I take it that you’re agreeing to my proposition, then?”
“If Emily agrees to become my bride, I’ll sign the contract,” Lazhar said. Walter’s swift satisfaction was easy to read. “But not until,” Lazhar added.
Walter’s mouth twisted in displeasure before the older man nodded his agreement.
“Excellent.” Lazhar stood. “I want your assurance that you won’t mention anything about our arrangement to your daughter.”
“You have it.” Walter rose and held out his hand.
The two shook hands, sealing the bargain.
“I’ll be staying at the Fairmont Hotel on Nob Hill and driving there immediately. Since I don’t want Emily to know about our plans, I think it’s best that we aren’t seen together before I have a chance to speak with her.”
“Very well.”
Lazhar strode out of the office, glancing back briefly. Walter was already focused on the sheet of paper he’d been studying when Lazhar first entered the room. He wondered briefly what had so riveted the businessman’s attention but quickly forgot the incident as he crossed the entryway and moved swiftly up the stairs to one of the spacious guest rooms on the second floor.
“Your Highness?” A small man, hanging a snowy-white shirt in the closet, looked around with surprise.
“We’re leaving, Pierre.” Lazhar crossed the room to the desk and closed the lid on his laptop.
“Very well.” The unflappable valet removed the shirt from its hanger and began to fold it.
Ten minutes later, his luggage tucked into the spacious trunk and Pierre sharing the front seat with the driver, Lazhar left the Parks estate and headed for downtown San Francisco and a luxurious Tower suite waiting for him at the historic Fairmont Hotel.
Meanwhile, Emily and Brenda were finishing their tea, unaware that they’d been observed by Walter’s guest.
“I wonder if Father…” The back door burst open, startling Emily into silence. She didn’t recognize the uniformed security guard who halted abruptly when he saw them.
“Sorry, ladies.” His gaze swept the room. “We have an intruder on the grounds. Have you seen anyone?”
“No.” Emily glanced at Brenda, who shook her head. “We haven’t. Is this person dangerous?”
“I doubt it, ma’am. I think it’s Maddy Jones, a reporter who’s been trying to get past the gates to interview Mr. Parks.”
“Oh, thank goodness, Andrew.” Brenda’s voice held heartfelt relief. “I was afraid a criminal was on the grounds. A reporter is a nuisance, to be sure, but only an annoyance.”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ll find her. If you see anything suspicious, let us know.” The guard touched his hand to his hat and stepped back through the doorway.
“We will,” Brenda called after him.
Emily pushed back her chair and stood. “I’d better get back to work, Brenda. Thanks so much for listening to me.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” Brenda enveloped Emily in a quick hug. “I love having you visit. I don’t see enough of you now that you don’t live at home.”
“I know. Work keeps me so busy.” Emily linked arms with Brenda and they walked out the back door and around the house to the front courtyard, where her sporty little BMW was parked. “Why don’t you meet me for lunch next week? There’s a new French restaurant near my office that I’m sure you’ll love.”
“It’s a date.”
Emily hugged her goodbye and drove away, feeling immeasurably comforted by Brenda’s down-to-earth wisdom and unfailing affection. As always, the older woman was a stable rock of sanity in what was often a dark world surrounding her father.
While Emily was leaving, Walter was frowning at the sheet of paper he’d picked up from his desktop the moment Prince Lazhar left his office. The letter was written by his daughter, Jessica, and addressed to his estranged wife, Anna, at the Switzerland sanitarium where she’d lived for many years. Cryptic though the words were, Jessica clearly stated that her mother’s suffering would soon end and that Anna would be “out of her father’s clutches” very soon.
“What