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

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.

      “I know,” Lazhar acknowledged as she stepped into the hall and he closed the door. “What’s this?”

      “This?” Emily held up the small electronic day-planner.

      “Yes, that.”

      “It’s my planner.”

      “I know what an electronic day-planner is, Emily, I use one myself. What I don’t know is why you’re taking it to dinner.”

      “It’s easier to carry than a notepad and pen. If your mother or sister discuss any details they think should be included in your wedding, I can jot down notes so I won’t forget.”

      “Emily,” Lazhar halted her by the simple method of closing his hand around her arm. “This is just a casual family dinner. You don’t need to take notes.”

      “But….”

      “No buts.” He slipped the Palm Pilot out of her hand and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “You can take all the notes you like tomorrow, but for tonight, forget about work, okay? My mother is looking forward to meeting you, and Jenna to seeing you once again.”

      Emily sighed and gave in. “All right. But if you really want this wedding to take place in six months, then I must start the preliminary work tomorrow. And I need to contact my office first thing in the morning to check with my assistant and verify that she isn’t having any problems with clients that I need to resolve since I left without talking to anyone. Early tomorrow, I must get back to work,” she said firmly as he tucked her hand through his arm and resumed their walk down the corridor.

      “Of course,” he assured her.

      But the amused glint in his eyes and the grin he gave her made Emily shake her head. “Just remember, you’re the one who said he wanted a wedding celebration put together in a very short time,” she said.

      “I know. I promise I’ll let you take all the notes you want tomorrow.”

      An hour later, Emily was thoroughly charmed by the queen, who insisted that Emily call her Caroline, and she was reminded again how much she’d liked Jenna Eban when they’d met at her friend’s San Francisco wedding.

      “Have you seen Angela since her wedding?” Emily asked over dessert.

      “Twice,” Jenna nodded. “She was in Paris with her husband three months ago and I met them there for the weekend. And I flew to San Francisco six months before that to stay with her for a week.”

      “And both times she brought home a plane load full of new clothes,” Lazhar commented, a smile tilting his lips as he sipped his wine.

      Jenna shrugged. “We shopped,” she admitted. Her dark eyes were bright with mischief. “It was Paris and San Francisco, after all, how could we not shop?”

      “Easily,” her brother said. “Your closets were already full. What did you do with all the clothes you must have thrown out to make room for the new ones?”

      “I donated them to charity,” Jenna replied. “Mother and I packed two boxes and took them to the Sisters of Mercy Hospital for their annual fund-raiser. The nuns were delighted to get them.”

      “I’m sure they were. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them had never been worn.”

      “Not true!” Jenna shook her head. “Absolutely not true. I didn’t give away anything that I hadn’t worn several times.”

      Caroline smiled at Emily. “Lazhar always teases us about the number of gowns we buy, but we’re often photographed and the press has an amazing ability to remember if we wear an outfit more than two or three times.” She sighed. “It’s a shame, really, because I’ve had to give up some gowns and suits that I truly loved.”

      “Except for her Chanel suits.” Jenna put in. “She can’t bear to part with them.”

      “They’re classics,” Caroline said firmly. “And I have to draw the line somewhere. Besides, I really adore those suits.”

      “It’s not easy being a queen,” Lazhar said to Emily, his deep voice filled with affectionate teasing as he grinned at his mother.

      “That’s true,” Caroline said promptly. “Your family is well-known in San Francisco, Emily, and I’m sure the society photographers follow you. Do you have this problem?”

      “Very rarely. Now that I’m an adult and no longer live at home, I seldom attend functions with my father. But when he requires the family’s appearance at one of the charity dinners or fundraisers that the Parks company supports, I try to make sure I never wear the same dress twice.”

      “How do you do that?” Jenna asked.

      “I taped a list to the inside of my closet door and write down dates, events and what I wear to each one.”

      “Emily likes to make lists,” Lazhar commented.

      “I like to be organized,” she corrected him calmly, determined to ignore the shiver of attraction she felt each time he smiled at her.

      “Mother and I make lists, too,” Jenna added. “Except my maid keeps track of what I wore where and when. Mother’s secretary keeps a running total for her.”

      “I have a staff of two terrific women at the office that keep track of my business appointments,” Emily commented. “I’d be lost without them.”

      “It’s the same for Jenna and I, as well as Lazhar and his father. Our commitments to appear at functions on behalf of the crown are a part of our family business,” Caroline said. “Without staff to assist us, we’d be hopelessly lost in no time.”

      “Do royal functions take up all of your time?” Emily asked, curious.

      “A great deal of it,” Caroline responded. “I always make time to spend with the family, of course. And Jenna has cut back on some of her volunteer work because she’s become more involved with the day-to-day running of the palace stables since my husband asked Lazhar to take over as head of Daniz security.”

      “Mother also spends one day a week at the Sisters of Mercy Hospital,” Lazhar said. “Volunteering in the children’s ward.”

      “I trained as a pediatrics nurse before marrying Abbar,” Caroline explained to Emily. “And although my other duties make it impossible to have a full-time