Page 54 of Star Champion

Her head spun like a loose ore canister with all there was to learn.

Yet, despite all their efforts to pretend otherwise, the memory of The Kiss lingered like the scent of a snuffed-out candle, suspended in the air between them, yet ignored with diligence by two expert bajha players who were trained to resist distractions.

“The speeder is standing by to fly you here,” Klark told Torii G’Zanna, the pro he had handpicked to face Jemm in a practice match. Torii was happily married with three children. His book-perfect technique in the ring was admired across the galaxy. Both aspects made him the perfect choice for the first candidate Klark invited to the annex. “You’ll play Sea Kestrel then join us for dinner.”

He smiled. “Yes, sir. I look forward to it. I’ve heard a lot about young Sea Kestrel.”

Suddenly, Xirri’s face popped into the screen with G’Zanna’s. His eyes were alight with mischief but he wore a pout. “We all feel sorry for you, Kes, trapped over there at the monastery.”

In the corner of his eye, Klark saw Jemm put down the ionic beverage she had been sipping as they relaxed in the anteroom to the gym. He did not miss the annoyed twist to her mouth as Xirri waggled his thick brows.

“Don’t despair. Life will be more fun once you get over here.”

Klark heard other players’ laughter in the background, although G’Zanna shot the off-screen pros a quelling glare. “Leave it be, chaps. Kes is about the same age as my eldest, and I wouldn’t want him hanging out with the likes of you.”

“Raff, get back to practice, or I’ll trade you to the Lesoks,” Klark growled.

“Sorry, Your Highness.” Chastened, Xirri bowed out.

“See you shortly, sir,” G’Zanna said.

Klark closed out the call and erased the screen with a flick of his hand. He leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his knee. As always, he was torn between wanting Jemm to blend in and his powerful need to protect her from the testosterone-charged pros. “You’re a slum-bred youth battling culture shock,” he thought aloud. “Thus, you require a chaperone wherever you go…”

“I’ve got this. I’ve worked with fellas most of my adult life.” Jemm had finished her drink and was now stretching, using the mind-calming, flexibility-enhancing moves he had taught her.

“Not as a woman disguised as a man.”

“Aye, that’s true. Still, I can handle them.” On her stomach, she pushed up on her arms, throwing her head back as she arched her back. Her black T-shirt clung to her torso and the curve of her spine. The muscles in her strong, bare arms flexed as she lengthened the stretch even more. It pulled the fabric of her shirt taut across her small, jutting breasts.

The instant he imagined their warm weight in his hands he was rock-hard. He shifted in the chair to stare outside at a far more harmless view, trying, and failing, to think his body into submission. He had never in his life wanted a woman as badly as he did Jemm, the one woman he must not have. Was it because she was forbidden fruit?

If only that were the reason. It was far too easy of an explanation for the way she dominated his thoughts and made his body react to her with a mere glance. He was aVash Nadah. The unique combination of discipline, self-control, and intimate skills strengthened by the guidance of fealty, fidelity, and family, the warrior’s code, defined a maleVash. It was an integral part of his education as a male of his culture to be sexually knowledgeable and skillful in bringing intimate pleasure to a female, whether she was a wife or a palace courtesan. But, his sexual education also included being trained from a young age to exercise mental discipline as well as physical. The fact that he found himself having to work on his basics all over again proved that Jemm had less to worry about from Xirri and his cohorts than she did from him.

Two standard hours later, Torii G’Zanna tore open the neck fasteners of his bajha suit as his team owner applauded with a slow clap of his hands. “That was an excellent match, both of you,” Klark said.

“And a fast one. I don’t recall ever being defeated that quickly. In fact, I know I’ve never been.” The big man blinked the stunned look off his face and turned to Jemm. “I’ll say it again, and this time with meaning. Welcome to the team, Kes.”

With utter humbleness, Jemm took his offered hand, her voice husky from being forced deeper. “It is an honor to have played against you, Mr. G’Zanna.”

“It’s Torii. And the honor is mine.” The pro shook his head slowly, reaching for a towel and a drink. “How about we rest a bit, and try again?”

“Sure,” Jemm said.

Klark shrugged. “That’s why we’re here.”

He returned to the spectator bench outside the ring, took a seat, and let out a soft, victorious laugh.

CHAPTER17

Jemm could not help grinningthe next day as she watched another defeated pro soar away on a speeder back to the main training center. Not only had Torii G’Zanna failed to beat her in any of the sparring matches the day before, but today Garlan Muse fell to her—repeatedly.

When the speeder disappeared beyond the trees, she asked Prince Klark, “Who’s next?”

He consulted his tablet. “Tomorrow is…Xirri.”

Ah, Xirri. That should be interesting. “I’ll be ready for him.”

Prince Klark’s grin sparkled. “I know you will be. I hope he’s ready for you.”

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