The Park's Empire: Handsome Strangers...: The Prince's Bride. GINA WILKINS
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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.
“Would you like to have it served at your wedding?” Emily set the exquisitely cut wineglass on the parquet table that separated her chair from Lazhar’s and took a small notebook and gold pen from her bag.
Lazhar shrugged. “Yes, of course. If you think it’s appropriate.”
“I think it’s an excellent choice. I’ll make a note to request that the caterer use it. What is it called?” He told her, his deep voice smoothly switching to Spanish. She wrote down the name, vintage and year, then closed her notebook and placed it on the table, her pen next to it, before picking up her wineglass once more. She took a sip and observed him over the rim of her glass. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going for dinner and if the menu will be Spanish to match the wine? Or must I wait until we get there.”
“We’re having dinner aboard the plane.”
“Aboard the plane?” Confused, Emily stared at him.
“But tomorrow,” he continued, “we’ll have lunch in Daniz. I’ll have the palace chef uncork another favorite vintage for you to taste.”
“I beg your pardon?” Emily was certain she’d misunderstood him. Daniz was at least a ten-hour flight away from San Francisco.
“By lunchtime tomorrow, we’ll be in Daniz.”
Emily was speechless. His gaze didn’t flinch from hers, he seemed to be waiting for her to react to his blunt statement. Her surprise quickly gave way to anger and she returned her wineglass to the table with a snap.
“Are you telling me that this plane is flying to Daniz?”
“Yes.”
“With me on it?”
“Yes.”
“Without your asking me if I were willing to go to Daniz?”
“You told me this afternoon that you’re willing to go to Daniz. It was only a question of the timing.”
“I also told you that it would take at least two weeks to clear my calendar.”
“Which is why I discussed the situation with your assistant, Jane, and why the staff from my embassy in San Francisco will be reporting to your office tomorrow. They’ll do whatever your assistant requires of them until you return. They’ll also install the necessary equipment to link your office to the palace media room so you can be in touch with your staff at any hour of the day or night, whenever you feel it necessary.”
Emily was furious. “How kind of you. But that doesn’t change the fact that you failed to ask for my permission to do any of those things. Nor did you bother telling me about your plans when you lured me aboard this plane.”
“I can only apologize. When I spoke with Jane she assured me that she would be happy to take your appointments over the next couple of weeks. She also told me that the chance to combine a holiday in Daniz with work was something that she firmly believed would be good for you.” Lazhar paused, eyeing her. “She seemed quite taken with the idea, in fact, she volunteered to go to your apartment to pack your bag and get your passport this evening.”
“Jane helped you with this conspiracy?”
“She assisted with the arrangements, yes.”
Emily fumed, silently wondering what on earth Jane could have been thinking.
“I know you might not like my method of getting you to come to Daniz, Emily, but I’m sincere about the limited time frame. I don’t know how familiar you are with Daniz politics, but the news reports about my father’s health are true. He’s not well. We don’t know how much time he has left and he wants to see me married as soon as possible. I want your firm to handle the wedding plans but I can’t wait two weeks—not because I’m being difficult and high-handed, but because I don’t know how long my father will be with us. And I’ll do whatever is necessary to give him what he wants,” he added grimly.
His words defused Emily’s anger as little else could. She didn’t have a good relationship with her own father, but she could understand a son’s wish to please a dying father. “Very well,” she said. “When you put it that way, there’s