Page 73 of Filthy Hot Prince

Khalid

(Khalid first person, Valeria third person)

“Valeria, would you like to come see the stables with me tomorrow?” Zayed asked, showing off his pearly whites with a charming smile.

I clenched my jaw, shooting daggers at my close friend, who was invited to have dinner with us. Zara hid her smile whilejadatiraised her eyebrow. Zain, my brother and the Sultan of Azmia and Nasrin, his wife and my sister-in-law, had taken up residence in one of Zayed’s private oasis for a week. Zain was calling it a baby honeymoon and had told me that they would arrive the next morning.

Valeria swallowed her food. Even though her hair was in a bun, a few wisps of it framed her face as she looked in Zayed’s direction. I had seen their exchange from afar before the dinner, and I didn’t enjoy how Zayed had dared to hug her and grin at me over her shoulder.

“I would love to join you if it’s no trouble,” she replied shyly.

I mentally groaned, clenching the spoon in my hand.

Would it be rude to throw a spoon at Zayed’s face?

I wrapped my hand around hers under the table. “We have painting session, Valeria,” I said, glaring at Zayed who still had the stupid grin on his face. With a dimple.

“A painting session? Are you painting her? You didn’t tell me, Khalid,” he said.

“Yes, I am.”

Valeria frowned at Khalid.Why was he getting mad?She thought.

“But we do that in the morning. I can see the stables in the evening,” she said with a small smile. She had loved petting Khalid’s horse back at the oasis.

“Great, it’s settled then,” Zayed announced. “I will take you to the stables—”

I interrupted. “I will come along.”

Zayed grinned at me, knowing well he did that to get under my skin.

After the dinner, Zara announced to walk Valeria to her room and talk to her. It seemed like I would have to resort to sneaking into the guest room in my home.

* * *

I kissedValeria’s temple as she slept soundly, snuggling the dark blanket as her red golden hair splayed across the pillows. Her face was the picture of innocence, her pink lips parted as she sighed, mumbling something incoherent.

I smiled at her, tucking her hair behind her ear and stood up from the bed, reaching for my clothes which I had removed hastily as soon as I had sneaked inside her room well after midnight.

She had just gotten out of the bath and I had ravished her with a kiss, seducing her and taking her against the wall. We had slept in each other’s arms after both of us were satisfied. But I knew that even sharing these few moments with her wouldn’t satisfy me.

I was selfish. I wanted more. More of her and her time. I didn’t want her to leave for London, I didn’t want whatever we had to end.Ever.

Because I wanted forever with her alone.

Clenching my jaw, I zipped my pants and buttoned my shirt. I gazed at her sleeping profile for one last time before getting out of the French doors of her guest room. I hated leaving her bed, but I had to get ready for the meeting. Zain would arrive that morning, and that meant other guests would arrive soon.

I was in the main study before the sun rose, going over the files of royals, their servants, maids, and guards that would be attending the ceremony. Nasrin’s family, the Sultan and Prince of Maahnoor would also visit for their sister’s baby shower, so I needed to make sure neither of our people broke into a fight. The relationship could still be a little bit tense at times, despite the shared respect as leaders.

Zain had worked hard to settle a peace between Azmia and Maahnoor. If some people didn’t understand that, I would make sure they did. Punishments in Azmia were treated with keeping injustice toward victim in mind. For example, if a man had harassed a woman, forced her, then he would be beaten by the officers and shot in front of the public, daring anyone to ever think about hurting another being again.

My hands clenched into fists, dropping the file on the desk as I leaned back on the chair. I wished I could have done something to protect Valeria, even though it was a fool’s wish.

“I have been looking everywhere for you, little brother.”

I looked up at the lean frame of my brother, the Sultan of Azmia, Zain Al Latif, and smiled. I stood up to greet him, hugging him as we both grinned at each other. We looked almost identical, standing side by side wearing suits early in the morning. We had father’s hazel eyes and strong aquiline nose with our mother’s sharp features. I had an inch over him with broad shoulders while Zain’s form was lean and muscular. He looked like a true leader, while I looked like a soldier. Zain always told me that I could have been a better Sultan, but I knew it was his own doubts speaking. I preferred to be in the low light.

“How have you been?” I asked, pouring us a glass of scotch. “How is Nasrin? The baby?”

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