Page 12
Story: Filthy Hot Prince
“I will be okay, thank you, Mr Benjamin.”
I had the urge to step closer to her and shield her from others’ view, protect her. “I will take care of her and drive her back… if Valeria is okay with it. Or my driver can drive her home.”
She turned towards me, her cheeks pink. I took a deep breath to control myself and glared at my shoes. She was too precious to look at.
Fuck. Why am I acting like a teenager with a crush?
“You don’t have to trouble yourself—”
“It’s no trouble at all.” I gave her a brief smile, even though I knew she couldn’t see it. “It would be my honor.”
Benjamin cleared his throat. I glared at him for interrupting us. “I’ll be leaving then. Have a good night, Valeria. Mr Khalid.”
With a nod, he left us alone, standing closer to each other in a crowded restaurant.
Valeria
I forced myself not to lean up and take a long whiff of Khalid’s smoky, woodsy cologne. He smelt nice.Reallynice. Something musky and exotic and very male. The kind of nice that would make you nostalgic after a few years and fill you with warmth. It made my stomach churn with an odd feeling. Perhaps it was giddiness.
“I want to apologize for asking you to meet here,” Khalid said, standing beside me.
I turned in the direction of his deep voice tinged with a little English accent.
Hearing an apology from him made me feel weird because his tone told me he wasn’t used to saying sorry to anyone.
Every inch of my body was aware of the closeness between us, the air charged with static electricity, making my nerves hum with anticipation. I could feel him looming over me. Towering me even though I was fairly tall, even in heels.
Before I could open my mouth, he asked me if he could touch me.
Blood rushed to my face, my legs tensing at his smooth question.Did he want to touch me in front of so many people? He was truly a player like those articles I had heard—
“What?” I managed to utter, mentally shaking off the dirty visuals repeating in my head with my naked body sprawled across a table for his full course meal.
I was sure I was red from head to toe.
Khalid cleared his throat. “My guards have cleared the second floor for us if that’s okay with you?”
His guards? Of course, he would have guards. Heisa Prince. But he did what?Did he do that for me?Maybe he wanted privacy during our dinner.
Not touch me privately, of course.
I lifted my palm. “Here.”
If it was someone else guiding me, I would ask for their elbow, but not with Khalid. Iwantedto hold his hand.
Warm, powerful hand engulfed my hand. I could feel the small tingles when his long fingers held my smaller palm in his larger one. I traced the pads of his fingers absentmindedly, noticing the small callouses from where he might grip his paint brushes for long hours. His hands were not soft as I had imagined a painter’s hand would be. They were calloused, roughened.
I adored it.
He slowly led me to the stairs, aware of my cane in my right hand. He made sure to tell me about the railing, clutching my hand with each stair I climbed. As if he was afraid to make me fall and staying close to make sure I didn’t. I tried hiding my burning face behind the curtain of my hair, but the strands pinned on my scalp didn’t help.
After climbing the stairs, I thanked him.
“No need to thank me. I hope I didn’t trouble you.”
I could sense the hesitation in his rich voice.
“It’s alright, Khalid. It was just a minor headache but my doctor urged me to take a day off.”
I had the urge to step closer to her and shield her from others’ view, protect her. “I will take care of her and drive her back… if Valeria is okay with it. Or my driver can drive her home.”
She turned towards me, her cheeks pink. I took a deep breath to control myself and glared at my shoes. She was too precious to look at.
Fuck. Why am I acting like a teenager with a crush?
“You don’t have to trouble yourself—”
“It’s no trouble at all.” I gave her a brief smile, even though I knew she couldn’t see it. “It would be my honor.”
Benjamin cleared his throat. I glared at him for interrupting us. “I’ll be leaving then. Have a good night, Valeria. Mr Khalid.”
With a nod, he left us alone, standing closer to each other in a crowded restaurant.
Valeria
I forced myself not to lean up and take a long whiff of Khalid’s smoky, woodsy cologne. He smelt nice.Reallynice. Something musky and exotic and very male. The kind of nice that would make you nostalgic after a few years and fill you with warmth. It made my stomach churn with an odd feeling. Perhaps it was giddiness.
“I want to apologize for asking you to meet here,” Khalid said, standing beside me.
I turned in the direction of his deep voice tinged with a little English accent.
Hearing an apology from him made me feel weird because his tone told me he wasn’t used to saying sorry to anyone.
Every inch of my body was aware of the closeness between us, the air charged with static electricity, making my nerves hum with anticipation. I could feel him looming over me. Towering me even though I was fairly tall, even in heels.
Before I could open my mouth, he asked me if he could touch me.
Blood rushed to my face, my legs tensing at his smooth question.Did he want to touch me in front of so many people? He was truly a player like those articles I had heard—
“What?” I managed to utter, mentally shaking off the dirty visuals repeating in my head with my naked body sprawled across a table for his full course meal.
I was sure I was red from head to toe.
Khalid cleared his throat. “My guards have cleared the second floor for us if that’s okay with you?”
His guards? Of course, he would have guards. Heisa Prince. But he did what?Did he do that for me?Maybe he wanted privacy during our dinner.
Not touch me privately, of course.
I lifted my palm. “Here.”
If it was someone else guiding me, I would ask for their elbow, but not with Khalid. Iwantedto hold his hand.
Warm, powerful hand engulfed my hand. I could feel the small tingles when his long fingers held my smaller palm in his larger one. I traced the pads of his fingers absentmindedly, noticing the small callouses from where he might grip his paint brushes for long hours. His hands were not soft as I had imagined a painter’s hand would be. They were calloused, roughened.
I adored it.
He slowly led me to the stairs, aware of my cane in my right hand. He made sure to tell me about the railing, clutching my hand with each stair I climbed. As if he was afraid to make me fall and staying close to make sure I didn’t. I tried hiding my burning face behind the curtain of my hair, but the strands pinned on my scalp didn’t help.
After climbing the stairs, I thanked him.
“No need to thank me. I hope I didn’t trouble you.”
I could sense the hesitation in his rich voice.
“It’s alright, Khalid. It was just a minor headache but my doctor urged me to take a day off.”
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