LITMIR.BIZ

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telephone in the cabinet beneath. “While you’re talking with her, I’ll check with the pilot about our flight time.”

      Her temper still simmering, Emily pointedly waited until the door closed behind him before lifting the receiver and dialing, tapping her nails impatiently against the arm of her chair while she waited for Jane to pick up.

      “Hello?”

      “I’m going to fire you for this, Jane.”

      “Hi, Emily.” Jane’s voice held a smile, despite Emily’s grim tones.

      “I can’t believe you did this—what were you thinking?”

      “I was thinking that a) You’ve got a genuine shot at planning a royal wedding that would send Creative Wedding’s status through the roof; b) You’re so conscientious that you would never want the Benedicts or Katherine Powell, or any of your other clients, to feel that you gave royal wedding arrangements priority over theirs; and c) You can’t miss this opportunity. It’s just too good.”

      “I know all of this, Jane. I took it into consideration when I told Prince Lazhar that I could fly to Daniz in two weeks, after I cleared my calendar.”

      “But the prince made it very clear that he can’t wait two weeks,” Jane said. “And although I know you want to be there for each and every detail for your clients, Emily, I looked at your schedule for the next two weeks and I really can handle your appointments till you come home.”

      “What about your own work?”

      “Most of what I’ve booked as priority for the next few weeks is glorified errand-running and double-checking details for the Andersen and Heaton weddings next month.”

      “Hmm.” Emily sighed, still not totally convinced.

      “Emily,” Jane’s voice coaxed. “We’ve known each other since high school. Have I ever lied to you?”

      “No.”

      “Then trust me, going to Daniz is the best opportunity you’ve ever had to build your business. It’s like found money. This could make Creative Weddings the most important bridal consultant firm in the U.S. Not to mention,” Jane added persuasively. “That you’re going to spend a week or more in one of the most beautiful countries on the Mediterranean. And you’ll be staying in the palace. You haven’t had a vacation since we left high school—this is the perfect chance.”

      “You’re sure you won’t be buried under at the office?”

      “Positive. Besides, your prince said he’s sending over staff from the Daniz Embassy. They’re accustomed to dealing with diplomatic receptions and galas and they can do all the errand-running on my calendar while I’m free to deal with your appointments.”

      “All right,” Emily said reluctantly. “You’ve convinced me. But I’m still not happy with the fact that neither you nor the prince asked me if I was willing.”

      “Hon, you would have refused,” Jane said with an affectionate chuckle. “I can hardly get you to go out to dinner on a weekend because you’re working. Getting you to agree to anything that takes you away from the office is difficult. You really need this break.”

      Emily sighed. “Brenda told me last week that she was worried that I was working too many hours.”

      “Brenda’s right,” Jane said promptly.

      “I’ll expect you to stay in touch, daily,” Emily said.

      “Absolutely,” Jane replied.

      They discussed a few items on the morning’s schedule before they rang off, after Jane promised to check in with Emily each day while she was in Daniz.

      The receiver had barely settled onto the phone base when the cockpit door opened and Lazhar strode into the room.

      Emily waited until he sat down next to her before she spoke, answering the unvoiced question in his eyes. “Jane will handle my schedule while I’m in Daniz but she’ll be in contact every day, and if something comes up that needs my attention, I’ll fly home immediately.”

      Relief mingled with satisfaction on his face and he nodded. “This jet is at your disposal, should an emergency arise. And if all goes well, I’ll fly you home when you’ve had time to tour my country, visit the palace, meet the people of Daniz and feel you have enough information to plan the wedding.”

      Emily picked up her notepad and pen. “I suppose that’s reasonable,” she said reluctantly. “How long do you think that will take?”

      “A week, perhaps two. It depends on when you feel you’ve seen enough to feel comfortable planning a wedding that fits within our culture.”

      “I’ll pencil in a week.” Emily gave him a cool look. She’d always secretly longed for travel and adventure but her single-minded focus on building her company had taken up all her time. Of necessity, she’d put that dream on the back burner. Lazhar was unwittingly fulfilling one of her childhood wishes but she was still annoyed at his high-handed method of gaining her cooperation.

      “A week,” he repeated with a nod. Emily read satisfaction in his eyes before his gaze left hers. He pushed one of the buttons located in a key pad on the chair’s armrest, then picked up the wine and refilled their glasses. As he was returning the bottle to the tabletop, the cabin door opened and the steward entered.

      “Ah, Carlos,” Lazhar greeted the man. “We’re ready for dinner.”

      “Very well, Your Highness.” Carlos bowed and disappeared through the doorway, only to return promptly with a wheeled cart. He worked efficiently and quietly, whisking a linen tablecloth and napkins from the cart to cover a mahogany table near the back of the cabin. He took silverware from one of the cart’s compartments, china and stemware from another, and in moments, the table was set, food steaming on the plates.

      He bowed and pushed the cart out of the cabin, closing the door behind him.

      Emily, who had watched the steward’s transformation of game table to dinner table, glanced at Lazhar. “Is Carlos a genie in his off-hours? Because that was quite a trick.”

      Lazhar returned her smile. “He’s very good at his job.” He stood and held out his hand. “Shall we?” Emily took his hand and let him draw her to her feet. “He’s worked for my father, and now me, for over twenty years. I followed him around as a child when our family traveled, trying to uncover his secret for producing food at the precise moment my parents wanted it, but I never did. The only thing I ever managed to learn was that he’s amazingly organized.”

      Lazhar pulled out a chair and seated her before taking his own seat across from her.

      “This looks wonderful.” Determined to maintain a polite, professional distance between them, Emily picked up her fork and took a bite. The grilled fish was crisp on the outside, perfectly cooked on the inside. She sampled the paella as well, the flavors of saffron, red and green peppers blending with shrimp and mussels in a mouthwatering combination. “It tastes even better than it looks.”

      “I’m glad you’re pleased. I’ll pass your comments on to Carlos.”

      They chatted easily during dinner. Lazhar seemed more than willing to answer her questions about his country and the customs that would impact the royal wedding. He had a wry sense of humor that had her laughing and his insightful comments about the differing economic stratas in his country made her realize that he wasn’t a prince who isolated himself in a luxurious castle. He must spend a lot of time working alongside the residents of Daniz, she thought as he related a story about attending a rural wedding of a distant cousin. The wedding celebration continued for a week and during that time, the male guests helped erect a small house for the newlyweds. It was clear that Lazhar relished the physical activity of pounding nails and raising walls.

      Their dinner long finished, their dessert plates empty and the bottle of wine drained, they remained at the table, Emily listening with fascination

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