Page 2

My cheeks slashed with color. My paintings weren’tthatgood that people took notes of them.
Amongst all, I missed my sister and family who couldn’t visit the art show. Zain was the Sultan of Azmia and he couldn’t leave when Nasrin, his wife and the Sultana, was pregnant. Zara, my sister, was hopefully safe, travelling Sri Lanka and volunteering in an elephant farm, having the best time of her life playing with baby elephants, her favourite animal.
The heavy, fruity perfume made me pull out of my thoughts as Sophia leaned closer. It would have looked normal if her round breasts weren’t pressing against my arm, but it seemed awkward because of my six feet five tall frame. I loomed over her lean frame as she pretended she wasn’t doing that on purpose while examining the painting.
“What inspired you to paint this?” Her voice floated in my ears.
I smirked, glancing at the painting filled with warm blue tones.
“Lust.”
Her dark eyes widened and color bloomed in her cheeks. “Oh, really?”
I leaned down, shamelessly roving my eyes over the ample cleavage of her dress, and whispered in her ear. “Yes, indeed.”
Her pupils dilated. Before I could plan getting us into a suite in the hotel, the trace ofthatscent wafted past me.
I straightened up, ignoring the small frown on Sophia as I looked around, wanting to know who worethatscent. My eyes zeroed in on the woman in red.
Thoughts disappeared from my head as I raked my eyes over her dress. Just a few shades darker than her ginger hair. Beautiful, glorious hair that flowed down her back. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I marched towards her, wanting to know her. My hands ached with the need to touch her, command her to tell me whythatparticular scent.
The scent that reminded me of my mother and the day spent in the backyard of the foster house, talking to the little girl. The girl who had become my muse forLimerence.
“Excuse me?” I said, my hand halting to hover over her arm when I saw the cane in her hand.
My eyes went to hers, and I noticed the dark glasses.She can’t see. Swallowing the gulp in my throat, I pulled back my hand, my body flooding with warmth when she faced my direction. The scent of roses and ocean was overpowering. The same delicate fragrance of sunshine and freshly cut grass.
It was nostalgic.
“Yes?” she said. Her voice was soft, heavy with English accent but gentle. Delicate. Just like she looked.
Despite the stunning red dress hugging her curves, her face was crafted with softness. I could notice her long lashes blinking in my direction, her green eyes cloudy. Freckles dusted over her small pert nose and the high of her cheekbones. Her soft chin and pillowy lips tilting up to me, as she asked, “Who are you?”
Fuck. I wanted to touch her, close the distance between us and take her to my apartment and spend a week with her.Naked.
“I am Khalid Al Latif,” I said, not knowing why my voice had turned husky. I was definitely attracted to her.
She blinked at me, a small smile curling at her lips as red color spread over her cheeks. Shock and surprise rippled through me the longer I stared at her. Her freckled face. Her smile. Her hair. I remembered it somehow. They seemed familiar. Even her sweet presence felt like a blanket of warmth placed over me.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Prince Khalid,” she said. Hearing her say my name made me stir in my pants. “I have heard remarkable things about your paintings. I am Valeria.”
I eyed her dainty hands, her nimble fingers as I wrapped my hand around her. Shock trembled through my skin, the hair on my arms and nape of the neck rising as my large hand fitted around her much smaller one. By the small shudder in her breath, I knew it affected her too.
“I wanted to ask you about the perfume that you are wearing. It reminded me of someone.” I leaned forward, the scent of her making me insane.
My eyes darted to the pink tongue as it seeped out to wet her lips. I resisted the urge to kiss her. “I’ve always loved the scent of roses, it’s one of my favorite—”
“Valeria!” A loud noise interrupted us. A man in suit walked towards us, eyeing our adjoined hands and frowning. Valeria let go of my hand, taking a step back. Towards him.
“I was looking for you. Here, I got you champagne,” he said, glancing between the two of us. “I am Brandon, her date.”
I nodded at him, hiding my fist in my pocket.
She has a date with this guy? She can do better. Me.
Valeria declined the champagne flute, and I took it from him when he insisted her to drink it. I swallowed the bubbly alcohol, offering him an awfully sweet smile.
If Zayed, my close friend, was here, he would mock me for being jealous and even childish.