Eric felt an urge to brush their praise aside. It hadn't been his keen awareness. He'd been too busy trying tocontrol his desire for his bride. She had likely just saved them all with her observation.
Was it an observation? Or had she known?
She couldn't have known. Could she?
One thing he knew for certain: He wanted to kiss her. But he wanted to keep her safe even more.
Eric turned as Ariel emerged from the royal ship with guards at her side. She may have been a princess, but she strolled forward like a queen, expecting her due. His pants tightened, not uncomfortably. There was no discomfort in how much he wanted her.
“It was my bride-to-be who pointed it out,” Eric told the captain as Ariel approached.
Her lips parted slightly, eyes widening just a touch. Something flickered behind them—surprise? Startlement? Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe she had only made a passing remark about the pretty flag.
The guards and naval officers, one by one, turned to face her. Their hardened expressions shifted. Bows were offered—some stiff with discipline, others more reverent. One man even thumped a fist to his chest.
“Your Highness,” the captain said with a respectful incline of his head toward her. “We owe you our thanks.”
That was definitely surprise on her face. But it was the kind of surprise Eric had seen while moving chess pieces across a board. It was thesurprise when his opponent uncovered the sneak attack he'd been planning since the first move.
Ariel dipped her chin in a gracious nod, her expression smoothing into something demure.
Eric watched her closely. There was pride in her bearing, but not the kind born from flattery. It was older, deeper, like a queen remembering how to wear a crown.
The ship’s captain stepped forward. “Your Highness, it would be my honor to escort you and the future queen back to the castle. There’s concern for your safety after today’s events.”
Eric shook his head. “Thank you, but we’ve an errand to run first. One that will last into the night.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ursula could taste victory on the tip of her tongue. Just a few more steps. Just a few more words spoken, and everything she had lost would be hers again.
Eric’s vows would seal it. His pledge, his name, his title—they would all become hers. She inhaled through her mouth, and then again through her gills, pulling the moisture out of the air, double savoring of victory.
She had outwitted her brother, slipped past his defenses like the tide creeping over land. She had won. She almost pumped her fist in triumph, ready to relish the moment—except something stopped her.
Something warm. Solid. Steady.
Eric was still holding her hand. Not just holdingit with his palm pressed to hers. No, his fingers were entwined with hers, down to the webbing of her digits.
She would have expected his hands to be soft, the hands of a pampered prince who let others do the work. But they weren’t. There were calluses along his palms, rough edges along his fingertips—marks of a man who touched the world instead of merely ruling over it.
In the last few hours that she'd known the prince, he'd shown himself to be the kind of man who stepped forward instead of standing back. The kind of man who threw himself into the fire, into the water, into the battle—not for glory but because he couldn’t stand to let others burn. A man who earned respect instead of demanding it.
He was likely going to get himself killed one day. Men like him—leaders who rushed into battle at the front instead of standing behind the grunts—always did.
He squeezed her fingers again, infusing his warmth into her. Those hands could easily pick her up, carry her, cradle her while she rested. The fool man would ensure her safety, not letting any harm come to her as he pressed her to his chest. She would have to make sure to hold him back, keep him in line when she commanded his army to attack her brother and the Sea Kingdom.
“You don’t have to do this.” His voice was a quiet rumble against her temple. “I’ll protect you from your father whether we’re married or not.”
Her father was long dead and returned to the seabed. Oh, right. Eric didn't mean her father. He meant Ariel's.
“My kingdom may not be as vast as the sea, but anything that is mine”—he brought their clasped hands to his chest, over his heart—“will be yours.”
No conditions. No obligations. Just a promise. Yes, this man definitely needed a woman like her in his life to protect him.
“Because I saved your life?” Ursula asked.
Eric's fingers traced her cheek and slid down to her jaw. When his thumb brushed over her lower lip, a shudder rolled through her. “Because you made my life worth living.”
