Page 45 of Filthy Hot Prince

I had entered her room early evening, asking her if she wanted to visit a nearby lake with me. She had agreed instantly. When I had announced that we were going to ride on a horse, she was more than excited. She had never ridden on a horse before and she wanted to know how it felt. I had explained the breed of the horse, Kamil, and his beautiful dark coat as we rode.

Valeria’s back rested against me, our bodies touching each other as I held the reins and commanded the horse. She could feel the hard muscles through her back and tried not to let it affect her. As if she hadn’t known what it felt like when our bodies had embraced each other that morning. Valeria tried not to squirm when she felt my strong thighs tense and relax. My other arm was wrapped tightly around her waist when I guided the horse, the soft breeze kissing our bare skin.

The air was cool and fresh, but I told her to cover her nose withkeffiyehbecause of the sand. She complied, so I wouldn’t worry. Although she wished she could feel the air on her face and breathe it in.

“When did you ride a horse for the first time?” She asked, leaning back on me, my masculine, musky cologne with the cool air making her feel heady.

I smiled down at Valeria, pulling her closer when she leaned back on me, herkeffiyehcovering her mouth and glorious red hair. I knew she was smiling up at me like she always did.

“I was seven. Our father wanted me and my brother, Zain, to train from the early age. We learnt how to ride horses and sword fighting even though we didn’t have any need of it.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Valeria could sense that I hated learning all of it at such a young age. She wished she knew how to fight to protect herself.

I looked at the bleeding setting sun. “No. Neither of us enjoyed learning any of that. Our father… he was strict.”

Valeria tensed. She knew what that meant. She covered my palm on her waist with hers and asked in a low voice, “Did he… did he hurt you?”

Yes. Yes, he did. He hurt all of us.

I glared at the sand beneath us, hearing her question. I didn’t want to taint Valeria by letting her know about my past, but her question was sincere as if she knew what it was like. I prayed that no one had ever and would ever do that to her.

“Yes,” I gritted through my teeth. “But he hurt our mothers the most. And my sister. He could never appreciate the love they had for him.”

“They?”

I entwined our hands together. “He had two wives. Zain and I were conceived before his second marriage to Isabella. She was a daughter of a wealthy surgeon in London. Isabella was my sister, Zara’s, mother. She was born blind, and we adored her because we would lead her all around the palace with Zara and describe everything to her. Both of our mothers loved us in a way our father never did.”

Her voice was barely audible when she said, “I wish I could meet them.”

“They would have adored you,” I said truthfully. Especially my mother. She would pinch my ear if I ever even dared to think about breaking her heart and ask me to marry her.

But my mother wasn’t with me anymore and times had changed.

“Really?” Valeria’s cheeks warmed with blood.

I squeezed her hand. “Yes. They would make various sweets too and deliciousroz bel laban, rice pudding, for you.”

“That sounds really sweet.” She kissed my knuckles. “I want to learn to make it.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Why?”

She shrugged, looking away. “So that I can have it whenever I want.” I was secretly amused. Valeria didn’t have the courage to tell me that she wanted to learn to cookroz bel labanto please me.

“Is the sun setting?” Valeria asked.

I hummed looking at the sunset. “It is setting down, disappearing down the sand dunes.”

“Explain it to me.” She demanded.

I smiled down at her, wanting to smother her face with kisses. Shaking the thought, I fulfilled her wish. “It’s orange. The whole sky is a canvas of orange and blue. Even little bit of red. It is refreshing, tropical, but it feels comforting.”

She hummed, “Orange gives me warmth and security.”

I was surprised by her reply. “What about blue?”

“Blue is like the sound of water. It is cold like ice,” she giggled. “I love ice-cream but it’s sweet. Blue is not… sweet. It seems clear. Calm. Relaxing. I would swim in blue if I could.”

“You are always welcome to swim in the pool, Valeria,” I said.

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