Page 56 of Star Champion

Klark felt his breath stagger at the lustful heat of that simplest of hand-to-hand contact. How could such a thing be? It simply was not in his sphere of experience. But when he saw Jemm’s questioning eyes and the pulse throbbing in her throat, a powerful urge to kiss her again boiled up inside him.

He withdrew his hand, trading her warm skin for the cool stone of the pool’s edge. When Jemm tried to tuck strands of hair that no longer existed behind her ear, he knew she was as flustered as he was.

To be so unsettled by a brush of hands was crazy, he thought. No question. When he was supposed to be abiding by his promise—their promise—to keep their relationship platonic, he was thinking of anything but. He was a highbornVash. A prince of his people. He could teach her to swim without resorting to reckless behavior and undisciplined thoughts, could he not?

“I’ll show you where I learned to swim,” he said. “Con, display Eireya.” A shimmering rectangle display rose from a seam adjacent to the pool. It displayed water so blue that it made him ache from the beauty of it.

“You learned to swim there? How lucky ya are. That’s just beautiful.” Captivated, Jemm took in the sweeping views of the sea, a lavender-blue sky, and wave-swept beaches as white and creamy as foam in a glass of ale.

Klark took as much pleasure in her reaction. “We Vedlas are indeed the lucky ones to call Eireya home. But, it was because we were exceedingly unlucky during the Dark Years.”

“‘The Original Warriors chose the most forbidding places to call home in order to lead by example, to prove their willingness to sacrifice for the good of the many.’ Aye, my Da used to make me recite that. I’m lucky he saw to my education. I know that six of the eightVashhomeworlds are harsh desert planets, yours is a paradise, and one is a grasslands world that gets scoured by craggin’ horrendous windstorms.”

“Mistraal,” he said. The name stuck in his craw. But he did not reveal why. Jemm knew nothing of his misadventures with the Dar princess, his brother Ché’s former promised bride. She knew only the good side of him. He had shielded her from the rest. “It’s the homeworld of the Dar clan.”

“Still, winds and all, it’s got to be better than my home rock. The wide-open spaces. When I was a small lass I remember thinking that because Barésh was so awful, it must mean I was making a sacrifice for the good of the many. But without the benefits of beingVash Nadah.” Her laugh reeked of cynicism.

“You were one perceptive little girl. WeVashare always so quick to point to millennia-old reasons why their homeworlds are bleak. But, the palaces on those worlds are lavish when so many others across the galaxy who live on equally harsh worlds are forced to go without.” Like Jemm and the colonists of Barésh. “What kind of sacrifice is that? How is that leading by example?” Such thoughts were wildly sacrilegious, he knew. He could not afford to make them public. It would only rile the clans that accused him of far worse.

He pinched his fingers and moved the image of Eireya farther out until it displayed a planet that resembled a polished lavender-blue and white glass ball speckled with green against a backdrop of stars. “We’re an ocean world. Water covers most of the surface. There’s only one continent. The rest is broken into islands. The scenery is equaled by no other place, Jemm. Especially out on the wild outer islets.” The mere thought of the outer islets made him yearn to return. When was the last time he had visited? It had been too long. “I’ll take you there one day.”

“I’d love that,” she said.

Then reality once more landed with a weighty thud.

Klark regretted his impulsive invitation. It had slipped out before he had the chance to censor it. Inviting Jemm to the islets, the place he loved the most and had never shared with another soul—was he mad? They could not visit the islets, not the two of them alone. Not as platonic coach and player, and certainly not as a couple. Jemm was not a palace courtesan, nor a woman of the royal court. There was no other category that permitted them to be together romantically. None.

Yet, it was easy to imagine Jemm lying naked in his arms on the powdery white sand, frolicking in the warm, azure sea together, eating sweet, ripe mangans and laughing as the honeyed juice ran down their chins. Him, kissing that juice off every last square inch of her body.

The sensual image jolted him to the core.

“Con, close display.” He could teach her to swim without making a mockery of discipline and self-control, could he not? He would prove it now.

He pushed off the wall, gliding backward and away from Jemm.

“Show off,” she called out to him. “I didn’t come down here to watch ya swim—unless I can do it with ya. I’m coming in.”

“Not without me.” He stroked back to her. “I need to protect my investment.”

She scooped water into her hand and splashed him in the face.

He burst out laughing and splashed her back. She yelped as water sprayed her body, her laughter musical when added to his. He had thought himself incapable of being playful or lighthearted. He had accepted long ago that this deficiency was a deep and inoperable part of his personality. But here he was, His Royal Highness Prince Klark, having…fun.

“That disrespect will not go unpunished.” He almost pulled her into the water with him, but caught himself just in time. Roughhousing would lead to passion, a fact his body recognized before his brain had. Remembering that Jemm did not yet know how to swim yanked him back from the precipice of going too far.

But he was staring straight into the abyss.

“Come in, I’ll hold you,” he said.

Jemm scooted forward and lowered herself into the water. He curved his hands around her waist, slowing her descent. Her skin was warm and smooth under his palms. A bare thigh brushed against his, her knee against his other leg. Then their gazes lifted and fused.

I am a warrior. I live by the warrior’s code. Self-control. Discipline.

The inner monologue failed to cool him off. Perhaps if he gave in to his desire, it would be like scratching an itch. It would take his mind off Jemm, and direct it back to where his attention should be in the first place—winning the Galactic Cup, and the pride it would bring the clan. But he had already accepted that Jemm Aves was no mere itch. She was everything he could possibly want wrapped in one utterly irresistible package.

Her hands landed on his shoulders for balance. Her gaze turned pointed, even mischievous.

Warning, warning.

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