with Office printed on a small brass sign beside the heavy door.
“A great deal of tradition is tied to that history,” Lazhar agreed. “But unlike my ancestors, I can waive the dowry for my wife. She doesn’t need to be rich—my family has all the money it needs. I can marry where I want—and if I choose, I can wed her even if all she has in the world are the clothes on her back.”
Before Emily could react to his flat statement, he pulled open the door and motioned her inside. The office, cool after the heat outside, was empty.
“Jenna?” Lazhar crossed the room and disappeared down a short hallway. In seconds he was back. “She must be out in the stables somewhere.” He glanced at his watch. “We don’t have time to hunt for her if we’re going to visit the Jewel Market this morning.”
They left the office and retraced their steps to the palace, Lazhar leaving Emily at her door. A half hour later, after freshening her makeup and collecting her purse, she sat beside him in a gleaming silver Porsche as he negotiated the curving road leading into the city.
“This is St. Catherine’s.” Lazhar gestured to their right as they slowed for a turn.
“It looks a bit different in the daylight,” she said, gazing at the soaring arches and towers of the church. She and Lazhar had climbed the stairs and entered the quiet church after leaving the casino the night before in order to drop her winnings in the poorbox. The tower lights had glowed against the night sky and the interior had been softly lit with minimal lighting. Today, the soft rose-colored stone had a patina of age, the graceful church an elegant grande dame of buildings among her century-old neighbors. “I believe your mother said that, according to tradition, royal weddings are held at St. Catherine’s?”
He nodded, glancing at her as he downshifted to climb a hill. “St. Catherine’s for the wedding ceremony and the palace for the reception.” The breeze ruffled his hair, his eyes concealed behind sunglasses. “Remind me to introduce you to Antoine Escobar—he’s the chief of protocol for the family and can give you all the details about which wedding traditions are set in stone and what you can change if you wish.”
“Perhaps I can talk to him this afternoon?”
“If we return to the palace early enough, certainly.”
Emily made a mental note to remember the protocol chief’s name as Lazhar swung the car to the curb and turned off the engine. “We’ll leave the car here.” He leaned toward her to point out her window and down the side street. “The Jewel Market is just down the street, the large building with the pillars and dome. I thought you might want to walk from here and browse in some of the shops on our way.”
“I’d love to, thank you.”
Emily stepped out onto the sidewalk just as Lazhar’s bodyguards, parked in a dark sedan behind them, exited the car, exchanging nods with Lazhar.
“I didn’t realize the guards were following us,” she commented.
“They go everywhere with us since the paparazzi invaded Daniz,” Lazhar confirmed. “After the wedding, I’m sure life will settle down once again and the reporters will get bored and leave us to chase another story. In the meantime, I’ve doubled the guards for family members. Jenna and I can no longer move about as freely as we once did.”
“Does it bother you, being the focus of so much attention?” Emily asked.
He shrugged. “No, I can’t say it bothers me, exactly, but it does make life a bit more inconvenient.”
They paused outside a spice shop. Narrow wooden carts edged the wall on each side of the doorway and held small bins filled with a display of spices. Emily closed her eyes, breathing deeply to draw in the heady scents of coriander, cinnamon, nutmeg, lemons and so many other intriguing flavors that she couldn’t identify them all.
“Want to go inside?”
She opened her eyes to find Lazhar watching her, his face amused. “It smells heavenly.” She gestured at the bright colors on the carts. “And it looks gorgeous.”
They stepped over the stone doorsill and entered the small shop, Lazhar loitering at her side as Emily browsed the scented shop, fascinated. She paused to watch the shop owner scoop nutmeg into a paper cone, then twist the top closed. He repeated the action with several other spices before the woman handed over her coins, tucked her purchases into her shopping bag, already bulging with fruit, and left the store.
They followed her outside and moved on down the street, pausing to gaze into shops. Emily purchased a cut-crystal glass vase for Brenda at a china shop and a bottle of Spanish wine at a vintner’s for her brother, Cade. Lazhar handed her packages to one of the bodyguards to carry and they strolled on. They reached the end of the street that led to the Jewel Market and paused, waiting for traffic on the busy main street to slow before they crossed. The small crowd waiting on the curb allowed them privacy, although they smiled and nodded, some bowing with respectful deference. Emily assumed they were native Danizians and perhaps accustomed to seeing members of the royal family on the streets.
Lazhar turned to speak to one of the bodyguards, his attention distracted, and in that brief moment, a small child, no more than two or three years old, wiggled free of her mother’s grasp and darted into the street.
Emily didn’t pause to consider her actions. Without a thought for her own safety, she ran after the little girl, sweeping her up into her arms just as a car bore down on them. Horns blared and the driver slammed on his brakes, the tires squealing in protest. The edge of the car’s bumper grazed her skirt as she leapt to safety on the curb and was grabbed by Lazhar, held safe in his arms.
“What the hell are you doing?” he roared, his arms tight bands around both Emily and the little girl.
Shaking from the adrenaline still coursing through her veins, Emily lifted her head to answer him but was silenced by his grim expression. Behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, she thought she glimpsed fear in his eyes, but couldn’t be sure.
The child, silent until now, whimpered. Emily looked down at her and managed a smile. “Hey, sweetie,” she crooned softly. “It’s all right. Don’t be scared. You’re fine.”
The crowd around them, shocked into silence by the speed with which the life-and-death rescue had occurred, began to stir.
Emily wiggled, trying to loosen Lazhar’s bruising grip. At first, he just stared at her, but then he seemed to realize that she wanted to be set free and his arms abruptly released her. But his hands settled possessively on her waist, his heavier male body a solid wall behind her.
She looked around for the child’s parent just as a woman, sobbing hysterically, pushed her way through the crowd to reach them.
“Mama!” The tiny girl held out her arms and Emily let her go, surrendering the sturdy little body to her frantic mother.
She was instantly aware that her legs were wobbly, her hands trembling in the aftermath. Lazhar’s hands tightened on her waist, easing her back slightly until she rested against him, his much broader bulk supporting her smaller frame.
“How can I thank you, miss?” the mother said, her daughter clutched tightly in her arms. “One moment she was next to me, the next moment she was gone. If you hadn’t been so quick to run after her…” Fresh tears trembled on the young woman’s eyelids, spilling over to trickle down her
