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

“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 the hell does she mean by that?” Walter muttered to himself, glaring at the sheet. He’d read the letter over and over, but couldn’t decipher precisely what Jessica could be referring to. One thing he did know, he thought grimly, was that he had enough problems without his daughter and wife stirring up more. He wanted Anna to remain in Switzerland, safely tucked away as she had been during all the years since he’d first forced her to go there.

With quick decision, he picked up the phone and punched in the phone number for Sam Fields, an investigator he’d used in the past. He’d have Jessica followed and her movements reported to him. It was the easiest way to learn what she and her mother were up to.

Emily’s office was organized chaos.

“It’s barely nine o’clock and I’m already behind.”

Emily glanced up. Her assistant, Jane, stood in the doorway, the neon-blue pencil tucked above her ear a bright spot of color against the corkscrew blond curls that brushed her shoulders. The bright blue was repeated in the paisley scarf draped artistically over one shoulder of her simple little black dress.

“It’s crazy-busy today,” Emily agreed. “Did you find the lilies for the Everston wedding?”

“Yes.” Jane’s pixie face lit with satisfaction. “It took five calls but I finally located some in Seattle. They’re being flown down this afternoon.”

“Excellent.” Emily sighed with relief and took a sip of her vanilla latte. “How Mrs. Everston could have forgotten to tell us until the day before the wedding that her daughter simply must have lilies at the altar is beyond me.”

Jane shrugged philosophically. “That’s a mother-of-the-bride for you—stressed and forgetful. I’m just thankful she didn’t want something that had to be flown in from South America or China!”

“Good point.” Emily saluted Jane with her logo-stamped paper cup from the espresso stand on the corner. “It could have been worse.”

“Emily?” Natalie, the receptionist in Emily’s three-person office, joined Jane in the doorway. Her air of suppressed excitement was palpable.

Emily eyed her with curiosity. “What is it, Natalie?”

“You’ll never guess who’s on the phone.”

“Who?” Emily and Jane waited expectantly.

“An aide to Prince Lazhar, the Crown Prince of Daniz.”

Emily’s eyes widened and she exchanged a quick, surprised glance with Jane. “Prince Lazhar? Of Daniz? What does he want?”

“He wants to schedule an appointment for the prince to meet with you this afternoon.”

Emily didn’t need to glance at her calendar. She already knew what her day looked like. She shook her head. “I can’t possibly, Natalie. Maybe tomorrow.” She flipped her desk calendar open to the following day.

“Emily, you can’t tell a European prince that he has to go on a waiting list,” Jane said firmly. “Especially not this prince. It’s all over the tabloids that he’s looking for a wife. Maybe he wants you to handle the wedding.”

Emily was unconvinced. “I doubt it, Jane. You’re talking about a royal wedding. I’ve never handled anything of that magnitude…I’m sure he’ll hire a bigger firm, maybe from London or Paris, perhaps New York.”

“You’ll never know unless you talk to him,” Jane urged.

Emily glanced at Natalie and received an eager nod of agreement.

“All right.” She turned the page of her calendar to today’s date and skimmed it quickly. “This is impossible,” she murmured, as she ran her fingertip down the list, shaking her head. “I really don’t have any openings, but…tell his aide that I’ll squeeze the prince in between the Benedict fitting and the Powell catering conference.”

“Excellent.” Natalie grinned. “I’ve always wanted to meet a real prince.” She disappeared down the hall.

“You’re squeezing a royal prince in between an Atlanta socialite and a California movie star?” Jane lifted her eyebrows.

“That’s the best I could do. Katherine Powell is always late so I’m hoping I’ll have a few moments before she makes her entrance. Speaking of which.” Emily glanced at her watch. “I’m already behind.”