Page 43 of Star Prince

Ian boarded first, holding the vehicle steady with his feet as she threw her leg over the seat and hopped on behind him, sliding about a bit on her rear until she felt centered on the wide saddle.

He peeked over one broad, leather-clad shoulder. “Put your arms around me and hold on tight.”

Tentatively she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her pulse sped up, this time because of theirphysical closeness rather than the anticipation of the ride.

“Ready?” he asked.

She tightened her arms around him. “Ready.”

The thunder of the vehicle’s engine startled her. She hugged him tighter and the side of her helmet brushed against his back. Then they lurched forward, jerked, stopped.

Ian swore. “Damned clutch,” he muttered in nearly unintelligible English.

She lifted her head. “Has the vehicle malfunctioned?”

“Hold on a moment.”

Happy to comply, she settled against his back, her hands flat on his belly. His stomach muscles flexed, pushing at her palms as he shifted his body weight to adjust something on the transport’s handlebars.

Finally, he asked once more, “Ready?”

“Ready,” she murmured in bliss.

Smoothly the motorcycle rolled forward, crunching over the dirt-packed landing pad and onto the adjacent wide, flat market road used by local ground and hover cars. But the thoroughfare was empty, only sunshine and trees before them.

When they reached the market, Ian slowed the “hog,” as he called it. “Must we stop so soon?” Tee’ah pleaded. “Can we not ride for a bit more?”

He laughed with abandon. “I think you know the answer to that question, Miss Tee.” The nickname gave her an incredible rush of pleasure.

Ian leaned forward as they accelerated away from the market, taking a left turn onto a narrower road she didn’t know existed. It headed out toward an area where an old forest fire had turned the woods into grassland that reminded her poignantly of her home, Mistraal. But her homesickness soon dissolved in the sheer joy of the ride.

He was a strong, athletic cyclist. When he leaned into a turn, she moved with him, awkwardly at first, and then with increasing confidence. Now she understood why he often left the ship at dawn to experience this. It was like flying. No, better than flying—it was as if she had soared skyward and became part of the wind itself. She whooped in joy.

The rush of air drowned out her voice. But Ian’s gloved hand found her thigh and gave her a gentle squeeze.I feel the same.As sure as she breathed, she knew he had spoken those words with his touch. She wanted to cover his fingers with hers, hand over glove, but she didn’t dare let go of his waist to do so.

As they came around a wide bend in the road, a herd of Tromjha steers ambled off a pasture and into their path. Ian slowed, but kept driving forward. The mass of hulking bodies continued to spill onto the road, passing left to right.

Breathless, she warned, “Ian, watch out for the cattle.”

“You, who flew through an asteroid field—by hand—are concerned about a few furry steers?”

She risked letting go to raise her visor, grabbing hold of his jacket with her other hand. “We’re not going to ride through the herd…are we?”

“Don’t you like moo-moos?”

“Moo-moos?”

He chuckled. “That’s what we call them on Earth.Cows.They look almost the same. Watch out, moo-moos,” he called. “Or my accomplice here will buy one of you for our dinner.”

As they neared the tri-horned cattle, dust rose, obliterating the path ahead. “How can you see?” Tee’ah demanded, then shrieked when they narrowly missed a pair of the beasts. “Youcan’tsee!”

“Who says I need to see? I can tell by your tugs on my jacket whether I’m going to crash into something. Now hang on,” he said, mimicking the warning she uttered the day they lost the auto-flier.

She half screamed, half laughed as Ian expertly weaved in and out of the bulky white and brown bodies. Finally, they cleared the herd.

“That was some kind of driving,” she said, mimicking his Earth-accented Basic.

“The appropriate response would be, it was nothing.”

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