Free The Star Princess by Susan Grant

introduced himself.
    Ché? Ilana's finger convulsed over the can of pepper spray. A burst of orange-red gas hissed out.
    "Oh— !" She released the button, dropping the can, but too late. The cylinder bounced down the stairs toward Ché, a gust of wind pushing the small, rapidly dispersing cloud of mist in precisely the same direction.
     
    Chapter Five
     
    "Move away! That way!" Her eyes wide with alarm, Ilana Hamilton ran down the stairs. "It's… "
    She continued speaking English so rapidly that Ché lost the meaning of her words. But he knew enough to turn his head and close his mouth as the mist passed by.
    Ilana shoved him away from the staircase and onto the turf. "I'm so sorry," she cried, throwing her weight into him.
    He inhaled when she thumped into his ribcage. A whiff of her scent— subtle, sweet— came to him, chased by a bitter odor that burned its way down his throat.
    A prickling sensation in his throat made him cough. His eyes began to burn as well, and tears clouded his vision. The heel of his shoe sank into the damp ground, sucking loudly as he pulled it free. He stumbled, then caught Ilana by the forearms and steadied them both.
    His fingers touched smooth bare skin, warm and soft. Trained in proper social etiquette from birth, he released the Earth princess like a hot coal, a reaction that undoubtedly startled her— but then she might not realize that in her short sleeveless shift, she revealed more skin than most Vash women did in their lingerie.
    This was the way Earthwomen dressed, he reminded himself, coughing. It was a different culture, if it could be termed "culture," and not as conservative as his. Yet he had to admit that seeing the crown prince's sister in such a state of undress was, though unsettling, not at all unpleasant.
    Now, if he could only see anything else.
    He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "What is the vapor?" he rasped.
    "Pepper spray." Ilana sneezed twice, sniffling. Her eyes watered and undoubtedly stung as his did.
    She switched to Basic, the language of the Federation. Her dossier said that she read Basic fluently. Speaking it, she was less proficient. He imagined she didn't get much practice on Earth.
    "I spray very small," she tried explaining in Basic. "Wind strong." She pinched her thumb and index finger together. "Only little we breathe."
    "Pepper spray. A deterrent chemical?"
    "Yes. Was accident." Holding on to his bicep, she dabbed at his tears with the heel of her palm.
    Che's loins tightened. Here was a very pretty woman, scantily clad, standing so close to him that he felt the heat radiating off her body. Yet her intentions were not sexual— he could sense that concern was her motivation. Her sheer proximity, her scent, her curves, her mouth— it was all overwhelming, to say the least. A Vash princess in his world would never have touched him with such casual intimacy. But Ilana was not of his world.
    "Here. Use this." She shoved a small white sheet of soft paper into his hand, dabbing at her eyes with another. She blinked rapidly, wiping the moisture from her cheeks. This spray very bad."
    "It is quite effective," he agreed in a husky voice.
    She gazed up at him with huge blue eyes that were more brilliant than he remembered. Perhaps the tears filling them made them so.
    "You surprise me," she accused in Basic, an angry edge to her voice. "Why you come here?"
    "I took a holiday. A vacation." He wasn't ready to explain the rest yet. "When I informed Ian, he assured me you would know of my arrival."
    "Ian not call." She opened and closed her mouth several times. Finally, she clenched her fists. "I can't argue in Basic," she snapped, switching to English. "Ian didn't call. But I was at work all day. How did you find me? When did you get here? How long were you waiting?"
    She went so long without taking a breath that he was almost ready to suggest she inhale. Then she sighed and asked, "What in the world are you doing here, Ché? Maybe you weren't the