The lyrics were about being an outcast. About a girl who was trapped looking in on a different world from the outside. This outcast girl wanted to shout, to be heard, to be part of that other world. But her voice couldn’t carry beyond the sea.
Ari belted out the notes with the waves harmonizing to back her up. The gulls overhead lent their cries to her desire to be part of that other world. When she finished, she was breathless. Her heart pounded. Her ears rang. She felt full, like she had gotten the acceptance she’d wanted by belting out her secret desires in that tune.
Behind her, she heard something that sounded like a gush of air. When she turned, she found that she wasn’t alone. Eric Prince was standing behind her. His entire attention on her.
Suddenly, Ari felt like she was back on that stage ten years ago. She stood frozen, gaping at him. Only this time, he wasn’t snickering.
His gaze was wide. There was something like awe in his dark, green eyes. His lips were parted as though he was saying wow, and had been saying it for a long time.
He hadn’t heard her? Had he? He was deaf. Wasn’t he?
But she knew that wasn’t entirely right. He’d heard the feedback at the restaurant. Those last notes that she’d just belted out to the waters were louder than that. Which meant he had heard her.
“Please, don’t stop,” Prince said. His voice was rough. Not out of anger or annoyance. It was as though he wasn’t used to using it often.
“I…” Just that lone syllable escaped her lips. But that was more than she’d spoken aloud to anyone outside of her family in years. “I…”
Nothing more would come out. Because Ari didn’t know what to say? Because she didn’t remember how to use her voice? Because she was dumbstruck standing before Eric Prince, who was asking her to not stop singing.
It was all too surreal, and if that wasn’t enough, a flash of lightning lit up the sky. The clouds overhead darkened. The heavens opened up and poured buckets down on them.
In seconds, Ari was drenched through. The bombing sound of thunder rolled in, announcing that her private performance was over. It was dangerous to be out in the open like this. She had to find cover.
Then there were arms around her. A jacket flung over her head. A warm body pressed into hers.
“Come with me,” Prince shouted over the downpour. “I’ll keep you safe.”
And then he was guiding her. Practically carrying her. Ari had no choice but to follow where he led.
Chapter Nine
Her body felt small against his. Lush, like a pillow he wanted to snuggle into. Curvy like a road whose bends he wanted to explore. But there would be no exploring or snuggling going on. She was soaked through, and the lightning above them proved that she was in danger.
Prince pulled from his training. He took on this mission with a seriousness he hadn't had for a long time. This was what Prince was made for; protecting the innocent. And this redhead with the voice of an angel was innocence personified.
He wanted a battle ax to down the flora in their way. He wanted a bugle to sound his victory when he got her to the docks. He lifted her up onto the houseboat and ushered her inside.
She didn't offer a peep of protest. Not that he would've heard her if she had. Even with his hearing aid in, the rain drained out any hope of his hearing her.
Once he got her inside, all that he could hear was the sound of her shivering. Her teeth clattered, barring any sweet sounds from escaping her lips. Her lips were tinged blue, which was a bad sign. It would take too long to heat the interior of the boat up.
"We need to get you out of those clothes."
Her eyes went wide at the suggestion. She crossed her shivering arms over her soaked shirt. Her pinched look spoke volumes as her mouth set in a firm line.
"No.” Prince held up his hands, shaking them as though to shake off the thought. Water droplets sprayed on her forehead as he voiced his denial. “I don't mean I want to get you naked."
Now her brows furrowed. Great. He’d just told an attractive woman that he wanted her to remain clothed.
"Not that I don't imagine you look fantastic out of your clothes.“
Now she took a step back from him. Her gaze darted around the dimly lit interior of the boat.
Prince shut his mouth. He slapped his hand against his forehead. But the wet smacked reminded him that the job was not done.
He gave her a wide berth, keeping to the walls as he made his way to his bedroom. Once the small couch and table were between the two of them and his bedroom door was in reach, he turned the knob and opened the space.
"I'll lay out a change of clothes and a towel for you in the bedroom. Which you can go in alone. There's a lock on the door. I wouldn't try anything. I'm not that guy."
She had no reason to believe him. She didn’t know him from Adam. He didn’t know her from Eve. But he wanted to. He wanted to know her name. He wanted her to sit down at his small coffee table and offer her a meal. An apple would probably be a bad idea.
She took a deep, shuddering breath. Then let out an equally quaking sigh. She glanced up at him, appearing to take his measure.
Prince’s back straightened. Shoulders back, head up like he’d been taught back at military school and later had reinforced during his years in the Armed Services. He held still for her inspection, hoping that he passed muster.
Apparently, he came up to snuff. She took a tentative step toward the bedroom. Prince could hear her shoes squishing against his hardwood floors. He could hear the clatter of her teeth as she breathed. He could hear her shallow breaths as she inhaled and exhaled.
Most days, he could barely hear himself think. But this woman, he heard her every move. What was it about her?
She stopped a few feet before him. A shade casting over the lovely blue of her eyes. One of her brows lifted, as though punctuating a question.
Had she spoken? He didn’t think so. His gaze hadn’t left her lips.
She cleared her throat. Prince heard that loud and clear. And then finally, he caught her meaning.
He moved away from the bedroom door. Once his back was pressed against the opposite wall, she went through the open door.
Prince squeezed in behind her, giving her as wide a berth as was possible in the small room. He grabbed an old army t-shirt and a pair of shorts. It was the best he could do. That and his towel he laid out on the bed; a paltry offering for a siren such as herself.
He showed her the lock on the door before he closed it. He stepped through, shutting the door behind himself. He wondered if she'd locked it. The sound would be too quiet to reach his ears. And he didn't dare to test the door handle to find out.
Outside, the storm raged on, rocking the anchored boat. The moorings held fast. The water pelted the closed windows. Lightning lit the sky.
Prince puttered through the boathouse. He put the kettle on and pulled the one mug out of his cabinet. This place wasn't in any shape to receive visitors.
A crack of thunder sounded outside. It was in the distance, but it was getting closer. A new thought occupied Prince’s mind.
What would happen when it was upon them?
He didn't always fare well in storms, especially not those with loud noises. Even as a child, storms had never sat well with him. Likely because they brought out the beast in his father. Prince and his mother would often shut themselves in a room to escape one of Lt. Prince’s episodes.
Now Prince was prone to episodes of his own. And here he was trapped with the one person whom he wanted to appear normal to when normal was the last thing that he was.
Chapter Ten
Ari let out the breath she'd been holding since Prince shut the door to his bedroom. She couldn't believe she was standing here, in the middle of Eric Prince’s bedroom. She'd never stood in the middle of any man's bedroom.
There wasn't much to Prince's private sanctum. There was a small double bed that looked like it could barely contain the man's bulk. She would bet he had to tuck his arms un
der his head and curl his toes to keep them on the mattress. The sheets were serviceable, thin, but clean. She doubted there was enough thread to keep him warm on the nights when the temperature dropped on the bay. Especially during the winter months.
Peering around, she noted that his closet was mostly bare. What was in there were the greens and browns of military wear. There was not a hint of the designer clothes he'd worn when he was the town’s rebel without a cause.
And that was pretty much it. No pictures of family or friends. No books with placeholders sticking from the pages. No television or radio. There was nothing to entertain a grown man inside these four walls.
Back in Ari’s room, her walls were splashed with color. Every surface was crammed with the knickknacks she found in the town’s shops, or ordered online, or made herself. She had a television, a computer, a laptop, and an old record player to keep her entertained while she fell asleep. Though she didn’t like to talk to others, she preferred her world to be filled with sound.
She wondered if Prince had fallen on hard times? Or maybe this was all a choice? Likely the latter. There was the matter of the hearing aide hidden beneath his overgrown locks of hair. His world had probably turned more internal with the loss of one of his senses. But wouldn’t that be all the more reason to rely on another sense, like sight or touch?
It was none of her business. She was simply here until the danger passed, and then she was leaving this silent drab place and returning to her world of music and color.
Ari gathered the towel Prince had given her and began scrubbing at the cold moisture clinging to her body. She looked again at the bedroom door, noting that it was firmly closed. She didn't think he'd barge in on her. Not after saving her from the storm.
But a voice niggled in the back of her mind. Eric Prince hadn't been an honorable kid. He’d been a little hellion on the streets when he was young, playing pranks, sneering at authority, poking fun at anyone who wasn’t in his inner circle. Only, there wasn’t a trace of that boy in the grown man on the other side of the door.
That man had reached out and protected her not once but twice now. He didn't want to see her come to any harm. Which was hilarious because he was the cause of her silence all these years.
She’d spoken to him. True, it was only one word, one syllable. But it was more than she’d managed in years. Maybe that's why she was here. Maybe it was time for that to change.
A therapist had once told her that she needed to confront her fear. By the time Ari had been given that lesson, her fear had gone off to military school and then to a real live combat zone.
He was on the other side of the door now.
Could she do it? Could she confront him? With her voice?
Ari stripped off her wet clothing. She made certain to hold the towel around her body so that she was never exposed. When she slipped into the clothing Prince had provided her, the shirt engulfed her. The fabric came down to her knees, covering the shorts he’d left her.
She was surrounded by his scent, the smell of summer sand, a cool fall breeze, and newly cut spring grass. Ari shivered as the last of the cold from the rain left her. Enveloped by his scent, engulfed in his clothing, she felt naked.
Her shoes were too squishy to put back on, so she left them off. That was what made her feel the most vulnerable, having her bare toes exposed as she walked across the hardwood floor. Ari took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door.
She found Prince standing in the small kitchen area. A tea kettle whistled that the water in its belly had warmed. But Prince’s attention wasn’t focused on the teapot. His gaze was on her.
He took her in, his eyes sweeping over her from the wet mass of her hair, down to his shirt that hung formlessly on her body, and then to her bare toes. Ari pressed the balls of her feet into the hardwood, trying to ensure she stayed upright under the assault of his intense gaze. His green eyes had darkened again. She began to wonder if they had ever been a lighter shade.
She pointed to the kettle, which was now screaming its readiness. She wondered if Prince couldn’t hear it, or if he was simply taken by her. It had to be the former because she was a bedraggled sight.
With some difficulty and what might possibly be reluctance, Prince tore his gaze from her. He turned the burner off, which hushed the kettle.
With uncertain movements, he poured the steamy water into a mug. His motions were jerky, measured, as though he didn’t want to make a mistake. He kept stealing glances at her as he added one then two cubes of sugar. With a look her way, he held up the milk, but Ari shook her head.
Cradling the cup in the palm of his large hand, he took the steps to bring it to her. His strides were exactly how she would imagine a soldier make his way to a target. Because that’s what she felt like. A target he was aiming for.
He moved one hand from the mug to indicate where she should sit. The couch was small, more of a love seat than a sofa. She took one end, and he folded his large form down onto the other. Before finally handing her the mug, he brought it to his mouth and blew the steam away.
Ari couldn’t stop her smile at his actions. He was still trying to protect her. First from sound. Then from rain. And now from heat.
“My name is Prince.”
She’d been staring at his lips. They’d stopped their puckering and now moved to make the words. Ari glanced up at him, looking straight into eyes that held no trace of the past.
There was recognition there. But it didn’t go any further than a day old. He only knew her as she was today, not a decade ago.
Did she need to rehash the past with him if he didn’t remember it? Could she just let what had happened go and start anew today?
Ari took a deep breath and let it out. She opened her mouth to tell him what he’d done to her all those years ago. She wanted to remind him that he’d ruined her life. But none of that came out. Only one word did.
“Ari.”
Chapter Eleven
Prince watched intently as her lips parted. Her teeth moved apart slightly. Her tongue dipped and rose. He felt a gush of air leave her mouth and brush over his upper lip. He was mesmerized.
Unfortunately, whatever sound she may or may not have made was entirely unintelligible to his ears.
He warred with himself. He hated that his weakness was exposed to the one person whom he wanted to appear strong before. But the need to know her name won out.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't hear you. Can you repeat that."
She took a deep breath, as though giving him her name was just as difficult for him to hear it.
Prince took a deep breath as well. He knew that in order to make this go her way, for him to hear her better, he'd need to take his eyes off her beautiful face. He'd have to give up watching her lips make the sound and turn his good ear to her so that he might hear her better. And so he turned his head to the left side and gave her his good ear.
"ARI!"
Prince ducked his head, covering his ear with his arm. He should've warned her not to shout. But it was too late. At least the mission was accomplished. He now knew her name.
When the pounding in his head subsided a bit, he lowered his arm and lifted his gaze to her. Ari covered her mouth with her hands. Her brows were raised, looking at him in horror.
"It's okay," he soothed. "I'm okay."
He heard the low moan of anguish that came from behind her hands. Any residual pain he might have felt in his damaged eardrum dissipated at her angst. He wrapped his fingers around hers and tugged her hands from her mouth.
"I'm fine," he said. "I promise."
She allowed him to peel away her fingers. When he did so, her perfect lips were set in a frown. He even found that beautiful about her. He wondered what battle he'd have to wage, what war he would need to win in order to earn the right to kiss those lips?
"Ari,” he sighed her name. "Did I get it right?"
Ari opened her mouth. Only to immediately shut her lips. Instead of speaking, she gave a fur
tive bob of her head.
"It's beautiful."
Ari lifted a brow, as though to question his sincerity.
Prince smiled sheepishly. He was caught. Ari was a unique name to be sure. He'd known two guys with that name, but he’d never heard a woman called that before. Perhaps it was short for something? He didn't think now was the best time to ask. However, he wanted to see her lips move again. So, he asked.
Instead of answering him and opening her mouth to speak, Ari pursed her lips together. She lifted a hand or tried to. Both of her hands were still being held in his own. Prince let go of one hand but held fast to the other, cradling her slim fingers in his large, rough ones.
Ari lifted her hand to his face. Her fingers hesitated when they reached his ear. She met his gaze, asking permission. Like a dog seeking affection, Prince dipped his head until he met her fingertips.
Ari's index finger brushed the cone of his ear. Just like a dog, Prince shuddered at her touch. He was prepared to flop on his back and beg for a belly rub.
But Ari jerked her hand away. Worry creased her brow. Did she think she’d hurt him?
"It's fine," he said, seeking her hand again. "I'm fine.”
Prince brushed the hair covering his left ear. Though the loss was most significant in the right ear, the doctors had insisted he wear them in both as both had been damaged. There was no outward scarring on his head. Just a few wounds on his back from the blast. Those had all healed over. Only his loss of hearing remained.
Ari’s gaze latched onto the device in his ear. She swallowed, her long, elegant column of a throat working as she studied the hearing aid. More than anything, he wanted to hear her voice in his ear. Already, the memory of it was growing dim in his mind.
“You don't have to shout,” he said. “Just come close when you speak."
That wasn't entirely true. She simply needed to speak at a normal volume. Prince got the impression that, despite her boisterous singing voice, Ari was a soft-spoken woman. Possibly even shy. Which didn't fit with her job as a waitress. But this was a small town where everybody knew everybody.
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