Page 55 of Star Champion

He seemed a different man since she beat the two pros. He was so buoyant with enthusiasm it made her heart sing. Her fine performance in the ring was the cause of it. The better she played, the less likely someone would question who—or what—she was. So she had doubled up on her mission to be the best, pushing herself to her mental and physical limits, knowing any loss, however small, would bring doubt—doubt that she could prevail against the men who dominated the sport, doubt that Prince Klark’s decision made to sign a female-in-disguise to his team would be worth the terrible risk. In the jaded view of the Federation no female could possibly be as good as she was. Ironic that the very opinion she wanted to see changed was the one that would protect her secret.

“However…” She placed her hands behind her back in an imitation of Prince Klark at his Mr. Serious worst. “We should address an emergency situation first.”

The appearance of the crease between his brows was instant. “I know of no emergency situation.”

Jemm tried hard not to laugh. “I’m in danger of drowning.” She loved the way he blinked at her as he tried to make sense of the mischief in her eyes coupled with the seriousness of her tone. “As a galactic pro, I’ll soon be visiting other worlds. What if I stumble into a body of water? It could very well be fatal.” She paced in front of him. “Then there are the bathtubs I may encounter, or even heavy downpours. The likelihood of my drowning is very, very high, all because my coach never found time to teach me to swim.”

His lips twitched. “I see your point. We must make learning to swim a priority. After I’ve put so much work into you, to lose you in a bathtub just doesn’t seem right.”

“Cog.” She pushed at him.

He laughed merrily and it was contagious.

After changing clothing, they carried towels down to the pool. Chéyasenn’s nighttime sky lacked the ever-moving drama of Barésh’s dome, but it was beautiful in a stately, dignified way. Billions of tiny stars flung across the indigo heavens like grains of crystal-sand. It seemed to magnify the bite in the air. While it was still summertime on Chéyasenn, on an instinctive, elemental level Jemm knew that autumn was not far off. It was as if her DNA that originated on other worlds never forgot the seasons.

Small lights lining the path flickered like candles. “These lights remind me of the apartment, and my Ma. She lights candles to save money on utilities, but I always loved the way it made the apartment look at night. Soft. Not so run-down.”

“You miss your family very much, I know.”

“Something awful, aye. But more than missing them sometimes, I worry.” Had Nico taken Ma to the Doctors Without Borders as he had promised? Was he trying to be more involved in his daughter’s life? Maybe Jemm’s absence had encouraged him to step in to fill the void.

“My offer still stands, Jemm. I’m happy to transport your family off Barésh at my expense. I’ll see that they are settled anywhere in the Federation—even right here in Chéyasenn City, where many of the team families live.”

They both went silent at the thought of that. The reality. It was not fair to force her mother and her niece into the situation of having to pretend Jemm was male.

“Never mind on that last suggestion,” Prince Klark said, intuiting her thoughts exactly.

“I know you would do all ya could for us.” His kindness and generosity were a constant, and never failed to tug at her emotions. But she feared Nico would not want to go yet. If she were to sever father and daughter, they may never recover the relationship. Plus, Ma and Button would feel lost and alone if she was not with them. “But it’s best this way.” The weeks were flying by. Soon she would be reunited with her family, and they would begin their new life.

She tipped her head back to see the sky.Da, I know you’re up there somewhere in the Ever After, watching over me. Spreading her arms wide, she could imagine soaring overhead like the Sea Kestrel for which she was named.

This time it was Prince Klark who had to speed up to catch her. Shoulder to shoulder, they walked in companionable silence. She yearned to slide her fingers inside his warm hand.

Then she wondered if his sudden silence meant he regretted surrendering to her badgering for swimming lessons. They would be in wet, clinging clothing, and little of it. Plus, she assumed there would be some actual touching involved with the lesson. Neither of them had forgotten what happened the last time they touched.

It had all the hallmarks of trouble in the making.

“Con, ready the pool for swimming,” he told the outdoor controller. In an instant the lights in the pool illuminated, sending startled fish darting in all directions. A net motored over them, drawing them into a separate section, before steam rose from the main pool into the chilly air. “The heat would harm them, but behind the nanocrylic, they’re safe.” He unbuttoned his shirt and removed it before pushing down his trousers, revealing skintight black shorts underneath that extended partway down his muscled thighs. Drawing hard on her bajha skills, she pretended not to notice the noteworthy bulge of his royal jewels, his rounded biceps, the ripples of his flat stomach, the planes and angles of a body kept in peak physical condition by its ruthless owner.

She stripped down to similar black shorts, but with a tight black midriff-length tank covering her on top. It had been a long while since she had worn so little clothing around a man.

“I’ll go over the basics.” He talked about kicks and showed her how to cup her hands and tuck her thumb, the two of them practicing strokes in the air. He acted eager enough to be giving her a lesson, using the same friendly, confident tone as when he instructed her in bajha tactics; but unlike in the arena, he would not look at her from the neck down. Then he sat at the edge of the pool and pointed to a spot next to him, but without removing his gaze from the bottom of the pool.

What a pair they were. She stifled a laugh. The dozer was having just as hard of a time as she was.

She dropped down next to him, sitting hip to hip, their legs dangling in the warm water. The instant her bottom landed, he slid down into the water. Pushing off the wall with his feet, he stroked across the pool. At the opposite, deeper side he somersaulted and streaked back to her, a sleek dark form under the water, only to explode to the surface in front of her, his grin a flash of white teeth, water sluicing off skin as shiny as glass. He was as at ease in water as he was on land.

“I want to do that,” she exclaimed.

“Do ya now?” he replied, mimicking her Baréshti accent with affection. “Well, lass, you soon will.” He was tempting her terribly by sounding like one of her own. It reminded her of her secret wish to ruffle him up and take him out to the Barésh City clubs for an evening of ale, thump, and her.

He propped his folded arms on the pool’s edge next to her calves. His dark lashes were clumped in peaks, his irises gold rimmed, his smile gentle, all his harder edges softened. “The most difficult part of learning to swim is getting over the fear of it. Or so I am told. I don’t remember being taught to swim. On my homeworld we learn to swim before we learn to walk.”

She kicked her feet slowly in the water. “I ain’t afraid at all. Not a speck.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” He covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “My fearless one.”

Hisfearless one? They stared at their joined hands in the sudden silence.

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