The Star Prince

by Susan Grant

  Her heart sped up, this time from nerves instead of passion. The start of his penetration stretched her. Instinctively she raised her thighs to hasten his slow and careful entrance. There was a sharp twinge. She sucked in a breath and held it until the stinging faded.

  Fully inside her, Ian cradled her face in his palms. “You okay, baby?”

  She didn’t understand the Earth words, but the meaning was clear. “Yes. It’s done,” she whispered.

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “Oh, it’s not done, pixie. It’s just starting.”

  He cupped her bottom, lifting her. She closed her eyes as his hips began a slow, undulating motion, sending thick, aching pleasure radiating outward. She didn’t know whether to sigh, groan, or laugh with the joy.

  He rocked slowly, deeply. “Move with me,” he whispered in her ear. She lifted her hips, and his breath caught. “Yes, like that.” After a bit, they found their rhythm. She locked her legs behind him, clutching his shoulders: rigid muscles beneath smooth skin. He encouraged her, guided her, breathed beautiful and erotic words that described how it felt making love to her. They swayed together, their skin glistening with sweat, their scents mingling. Gradually, she lost her apprehension, her self-consciousness, and gave in to pure sensation.

  But Ian’s pleasure had built far more swiftly. She sensed he was close to the edge, and he would not be able to take her with him. It didn’t matter. That she could bring him such pleasure did.

  Her hands covered his buttocks and urged him toward his release. His neck corded, his breaths came faster, harsher. Still he struggled, she knew, not to thrust too hard and hurt her in the face of her newly lost innocence.

  With this act, she might have forever lost the chance to go home, but the choice had allowed her to give herself to the one man who held her heart. “I love you, Earth dweller,” she said, a fervent whisper in his ear.

  He expelled an explosive breath, threw back his head, and found release deep inside her body. His peak was unbridled and prolonged. Closing her eyes, wrapping her arms around his heaving body, Tee’ah took his essence into her soul.

  Two had become one.

  “There they are, Gann.” Lara poked her finger at her viewscreen.

  Gann came up behind her. “Where?”

  “Right where we thought they’d be. The Sun Devil. At the threshold of the jump they never made.”

  Gann folded his arms over his chest. “Contact them on the comm.”

  “Sun Devil, this is the Quillie.”

  Silence met the request.

  Lara upped the signal strength. “Try again.”

  “Sun Devil, this is the Quillie; how do you read?” Unease prickled the back of his neck. The ship was there; he could “see” it on the viewscreen. Why wasn’t Ian answering?

  “How long until we reach them?” he asked Lara.

  She checked the computer. “A standard hour, max. I’ll try reaching them again in a few minutes.” A jaunty little melody slipped from her lips.

  He leaned over her shoulder. “Are you actually humming?”

  She gave him a winning smile. “I’ll soon have my ship back. And my life, too.”

  Roused by Lara’s uncharacteristic cheer, the ketta-cat unfurled its thin body and stood, stretching up on its toes, its tail quivering. It yawned broadly, then touched the tip of its nose to Lara’s.

  “It’s been a long time since we served together on the Quillie.”

  Gann turned to find Muffin towering over him, years of memories in his gaze. “Yes. This reminds me of the old times…the good times.”

  “They were good,” the big man acknowledged. He frowned, stroking his chin with his thick fingers. “I don’t know if she’ll want to go with you. She wants her freedom.”

  Gann beckoned him out of Lara’s earshot, surprised by his friend’s perceptiveness. “I know,” he said under his breath. “All she talks about is her ship, what it looks like, how it flies.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not easy competing with a hunk of trillidium. It’s impounded, you know. That ship of hers. As soon as I have the princess, she’ll be paid—money she’ll use to reclaim her ship. As soon as that happens, I have the feeling she’s out of my life for good. Though sometimes I don’t think that would be a bad idea…” He sighed. “You always had a way with the ladies, Muff. What should I do?”

  The bodyguard appeared bemused. “I meant Tee’ah, the princess.”

  “Ah.” Gann tried to appear casual. Then it hit him what Muffin had said. “Why wouldn’t the princess come with us? Surely she’s had her fill of frontier life by now.”

  “Not Tee. She’s thrived out here. That is, when she wasn’t drinking,” the big man joked.

  Gann’s hand shot up. “Don’t want to know about it.”

  Muffin said in a quieter tone, “Ian doesn’t know who Tee is, though he did suspect she was Vash and was hiding it. And the looks they’ve been giving each other lately…” He cracked a smile. “Makes me wonder what’s developed between them.”

  “We don’t want that. She’s not yet promised to the Vedla heir, but she will be when we get her home.” Gann rubbed his chin. “Ian’s not been matched yet, though, has he?”

  Muffin shook his shaggy head. “I hope it happens soon, his promise ceremony. The last thing the lad needs is scandal. And that’s what will happen if he steals Tee’ah away.”

  “I trust Ian will do what is right. He always has.”

  Muffin shrugged. Then his attention shifted to Lara. “You want my opinion with her? Ask for flying lessons.”

  “I know how to fly.”

  Muffin rolled his eyes. “Ask for a refresher course—on her rig. How and why do you think I learned to fly all those years ago, a skill I haven’t used since?” The bodyguard’s face creased into a smile. “Trust me, my friend; it was a venture well worth the trouble.”

  Chuckling, a rich and deep sound, Muffin left Gann standing there, pondering the possibilities.

  Thirty-three minutes.

  On the pod, the temperature climbed as the air quality spiraled slowly downward. Curled on her side on the padded floor, Tee woke from a fitful doze.

  Ian stroked her tousled bangs off her forehead. “Hey, pixie.”

  She pressed her hands together, palm to palm, and wedged them under her cheek. “Anyone call while I was out?”

  He tightened his jaw and shifted his gaze outside. “No.” But nonetheless they waited, fully dressed, for some rescue he now doubted would get to them in time.

  She sat up. He rubbed her back. “Sore?”

  “A little.” She smiled shyly. “But it was well worth it.”

  Ian drew her snugly against his chest and touched his lips to her hair. “Come back with me,” he said. “To Sienna.”

  She gave a mournful laugh. “Can you imagine the uproar that would cause?”

  “We’ll make it work,” he said firmly, though there was too little time remaining to figure out how.

  She sighed. “When I told you I was Vash Nadah, I didn’t tell you everything. But now…I don’t want any secrets between us.”

  He stroked her damp, close-cropped hair. “After the past few hours, I can’t imagine we have any secrets left.”

  “Well, there’s one. A rather big one.”

  He moved her back.

  She tipped her chin up. “You know your cousin Tee’ah?”

  While he tried and failed to picture the woman, she said, “Well, I’m her. Princess Tee’ah, daughter of the Dars.”

  “You’re…Tee’ah?” He prayed it was a bad joke brought on by their impending asphyxiation.

  “Yes. That’s how I knew who Klark was. That’s how I eventually figured out who you were.” Quieter, she said, “That’s why everything you’re trying to accomplish in the frontier means so much to me.”

  Speechless, he stared into her pale gold eyes, the eyes of a Vash Nadah princess, a princess he’d just deflowered out of wedlock, going against every law the Vash had in place. He felt lighthead
ed, and not from lack of air. “The way I treated you…The places I took you—”

  “Overprotection was why I left home. With you I found everything I’d always dreamed of.”

  And hadn’t he, too?

  Twenty-eight minutes.

  He glanced at the air-remaining readout and grimaced. Strangely, he wasn’t afraid of dying; just incredibly pissed. But if he was going to go out, he was going to do it right. He took hold of Tee’s hands. “This a little after the fact, but considering the circumstances, I ask that you bear with me.” He brought her knuckles to his lips. “ ‘My love, I give you my heart, my allegiance, my promise of fidelity and protection…’ ”

  “The promise ceremony,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he said, and finished reciting the passages that dated back to the birth of the Treatise of Trade.

  Tee’s chest rose and fell, faster now. She squeezed his hands, her expression a heart-wrenching blend of grief and joy. “ ‘My love, I take your promise. In return, I give you my heart, my devotion, my promise of—’ ”

  His personal comm crackled. It used a discreet frequency, known only by his crew, but someone, or something, had just tried to reach him on it.

  For a few shocked seconds he and Tee’ah stared at each other. Momentum had carried them toward death and desperate, last-minute pledges. Now rescue had arrived. Unexpectedly. Dazed, they had to shift gears.

  Tee stumbled to her feet. “Look! Ships! Two—no three of them.”

  Ian cupped his hands around his eyes and peered into the blackness of space. The Sun Devil had long dwindled into a speck of light. But the dark form of another starship coasted past at close range. Two more hovered beyond, maneuvering around the pod. The stuffy air and warm temperature dulled his senses, but the likelihood of rescue dragged him to full alertness. Ian brought his comm to his mouth. “Mayday, mayday. Survivors in pod. Mayday, mayday. Twenty minutes of air remaining. I repeat: twenty minutes of air.”

  Muffin’s voice blared loud and clear. “Captain, we’ve got you in sight. I copy the minutes left. We’ll have you onboard in five. Standby for emergency tow.”

  Their pod was equipped with minimal communication equipment, making it impossible to hear all the transmissions between the ship Muffin was on and the other two, but after a few moments the other pair of would-be rescuers wheeled around and accelerated away.

  Muffin’s ship closed on their pod, using valuable minutes to decelerate sufficiently to allow the delicate task of pod retrieval to take place.

  Ian asked, “Is the rest of the crew with you?”

  Muffin replied, “They’re on the Sun Devil.”

  “The Sun Devil? The computer’s gone crazy.”

  “We know. When we got there, the computer claimed the ship no longer existed. Quin, Gredda, and Push boarded in life support suits.”

  Quin’s voice chimed in. “You ever hear of nanomachines, Captain?”

  “Microscopic computers?”

  “Someone got them in our computer. Early in the mission, I’d say.”

  “Klark?” Tee speculated.

  “Likely. High-tech terrorism at its worst. He turned our computer into an unwitting traitor. Any one of the spare parts we bought could have carried the invaders. Over time, and unknown to us, a battle’s been going inside the ship’s computer between the ship’s backup and warning system, and the rudimentary artificial intelligence sent in to destroy it. It’s an easy fix, though. Now that the Quillie’s computer pointed out the little saboteurs.”

  Ian exchanged glances with Tee. “That explains all the problems we’ve been having,” she said.

  He nodded grimly. Klark’s malevolence proved his willingness to kill. How he’d bring Klark to justice would take some thought, though. Ian was still, in many ways, an outsider. Rushing to the Great Council with the accusation that one of their princes had tried to assassinate him would be as ill thought out as slalom skiing on his Harley.

  On the side of the rescue ship, clamshell doors opened to a maw revealing an empty cargo bay.

  “Prepare to be swallowed whole,” Tee said.

  He laid his arm over her shoulders. “I am.” In more ways than he ever imagined.

  A claw-arm extended from the bay, reminding Ian of a tongue. With a thunk, it grabbed hold of the pod, tossing he and Tee to the padded floor. Then it slowly, deliberately drew them inside the ship.

  As soon as the gigantic outer door closed behind them, Muffin’s voice blasted through the comm. “The bay’s pressurized.”

  Ian cracked the hatch open. Cold, dry air rushed inside. He and Tee filled their lungs with it. Sitting together on the floor, they felt the ship accelerate.

  After a short flight a vibration rumbled through the vessel, indicating a docking maneuver was underway.

  “The ship we’re on is docked with the Sun Devil,” Muffin said finally. “I’ll come down to get you. Wait until you see who brought me here.”

  Muffin escorted Ian and Tee’ah out of the cargo bay. Ian climbed the gangway leading to the main deck of the rescuing ship. Tee’ah grabbed hold of the first rung, but Muffin stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. His voice was urgent and low. “Gann is here. He’s come to bring you home.”

  “What?” she asked. Her stomach plummeted. Home? It looked as if her family had finally caught up to her. Only this time there was no place to run. “Gann…who?”

  “Gann Truelénne, Rom B’kah’s loyal warrior.” The big man appeared apologetic. “And my good friend.”

  Her hands tightened on the rung. Gann. She tried to picture him and couldn’t, but the name was familiar. Her parents must have contacted Rom for help and he’d chosen Gann for the mission.

  “I thank you for telling me. I wouldn’t have wanted to be caught unawares.”

  “I know,” the big man said with surprising empathy. “I figured all along that if you’d wanted to go home, you’d have told us who you were.”

  “You knew who I was? All along?”

  He grinned. “It’s been seven years, but I never forget a face.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell Ian?”

  “It was never my destiny to change yours,” he replied cryptically. Go, he said with his eyes, and don’t let on to a soul what I just told you.

  At the top of the gangway a tall, handsome Vash gentleman embraced Ian. They pounded each other on the back and appeared genuinely excited by the reunion.

  “Ah. The pampered one returns,” said a woman standing behind them. Her eyes were so jaded and cool that Tee’ah didn’t give her the pleasure of a reaction. The lovely dangling silver earrings of the same length as her hair suggested delicacy, but the woman appeared as hard as any ship’s trillidium hull.

  Ian stepped away from Gann. “Don’t tell me you just happened to be in the area.”

  Gann laughed. “We’ve been tracking you for weeks, only I had no idea it was your trail we were on. Rom sent me.” He shifted his eyes to Tee’ah. If her odd-colored shorn hair shocked him, he did an excellent job of hiding it. His eyes reflected curiosity, but his smile was cordial, revealing his respect of the social distance between them and little of the true man behind it. The palace dwellers had smiled at her like that all her life. She’d thought she’d escaped it. “My mission,” he said, “was to find your cousin, Princess Tee’ah. Welcome to the Quillie, honored lady.”

  “Thank you.” She avoided meeting Ian’s eyes.

  As a group, they moved into the cockpit. Quin was there, wiping his hands on a rag. “Princess.” He made a fist over his barrel chest and bowed.

  She sighed through her nose. Never had she thought she’d long for the mechanic’s overbearing know-it-all manner.

  A chime sounded, indicating an incoming priority message. “Lara, would you get that?” Gann asked the woman with the cold eyes. Interesting, but when she looked at Gann her gaze thawed.

  Lara took the call as everyone milled about, exchanging stories of what had happened
in the last hellish days. Almost sheepish, Tee’ah and Ian stood next to each other. They’d just tied their hearts to each other in what they’d thought was the hour of their death. Now they’d have to endure the awkwardness of knowing they’d made promises they’d never be able to keep.

  “It sounds like we’ll be able to continue our mission without much delay,” she told him lightly. “At least this time we’ll have the whole crew with us.”

  Ian looked appalled. “You’re a Vash Nadah princess.”

  “So it seems,” she agreed dryly.

  He lowered his voice to a private tone. “You’ve been sheltered all your life. You can’t work on the Sun Devil anymore.”

  “So. I’m fired?”

  “You’ll get yourself killed.”

  “Please, Ian. As if working for you wasn’t dangerous this morning, or in all the weeks before—” She stopped herself, trying desperately to forgive his lack of logic; he was as rattled as she was.

  “You don’t belong in the frontier.” He spread his hands. “You’re a princess.”

  “So, where do good little princesses go, hmm? Home?”

  He grabbed her arm and pulled her close to whisper in her ear. Blast it; his warm breath still gave her tingles. “But you can’t go home in this…condition.”

  “You mean independent? Free? Happy? Yes, you’re quite right.”

  “I gave my promise to you. I intend to follow through. We’ll…work out the details. After Earth.”

  She had no doubt that the by-the-books, do-right crown prince would fulfill any promise he’d made out of principle and his driving sense of accountability. But the last thing she’d let herself do was to become another one of Ian’s “obligations.”

  “No,” she said sharply under her breath. “I’ll not ruin your chances for the throne. You need a marriage chosen by your stepfather. And you have to convince Earth to stay in the Federation. Those are the only ways you’ll end the Great Council’s doubts about you once and for all.”

  “A promise is a promise.”