Page 3 of Filthy Hot Prince

Before I could ask her to show her around the art gallery and maybe my bedroom as well, he beat me to it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Khalid, but we have to leave or we will be late for our dinner reservation.”

Valeria gave him a look when he held her hand in front of me. I reminded myself to be civil.

You are not a caveman, Khalid. You can’t take her over your shoulder and call her yours.

“I hope we will meet again soon, Valeria,” I said, giving her a small smile, winking at Brandon, who glared at me. Date or not, he was jealous of the little exchange Valeria and I had.

“You should try more woody notes instead of oriental,” Valeria said, bowing her head and leaving in the arms of another man. “Just a suggestion, Prince Khalid.”

Woody notes? Huh.

I made my way to the agent, asking him to bring me the guest list of the art show, my eyes scanning for a particular name.

“Where is Valeria? What’s her last name?” I demanded as he ended a call withBBC News, apologising for my cursing during the live interview.

Sophia leaned closer to me, her fingers creeping up my arm.

I pulled away, “I am busy tonight, Sophia.”

“Busy?” she huffed, pulling away. “With what?”

“Work,” I replied, and repeated my question to the agent. “What is Valeria’s last name?”

“You mean the red hair you met earlier?” Sophia asked, her eyes darting from my face to the guest list.

“Yes,her. Do you know her?”

“Of course, I know her. She is the first blind entrepreneur to be on theForbes 30 under 30,” she said with a grin. “I love the perfumes made by her company.”

“Perfume?” I prodded, wanting to know more about Valeria. She seemed intriguing the more I knew about her.

“Delicate Dew, Khalid. It’s like you are living under a rock.” She shook her head, naming the famous brand I have heard before. As Azmia was famous for its own exotic fragrance oils, lotions and perfumes, we had to know about the competition. “Her last name is Dunne. She’s Valeria Dunne. I wished she had stayed longer. I wanted to talk—”

I droned out of her talk, repeating her name. Valeria Dunne. That’s her name. The woman in red was a CEO of a perfume company.

“Cancel my flight for Azmia, I have serious business to do,” I said to my agent, who let out a long sigh. “Thank you, Sophia, remind me to treat you with dinner when we meet again.” I kissed her cheek, smiling at her.

I left the art show early. I had to call her and set up an arrangement to meet her.

I wanted to be with Valeria.

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