Page 11 of Ena’s Surrender

“Share it with me,” she found herself saying.

Before he could protest, she broke it in half.

He set aside the blackened linen he’d used to clean his face and reached for the smaller piece. His hasty washing had gotten most of the soot, but left some streaked across his forehead, his hairline damp.

He sank down to the ground and rested his back on the wall of the hut, then raised his piece of the pie toward her in a silent toast.

She settled beside him and together they bit into their treat. Though the meat pie had long since gone cold, it was still the most decadent thing she’d eaten in months. There was a brininess to the gravy that mingled with the herbs and tender meat, the crust still flaky enough to practically fall apart as she neared the end of her share.

“Why did ye do it?” she asked. “Save those people. Ye could’ve died. Are the Scots no’ yer enemy?”

“They needed help.” He lifted his shoulder. “As was pointed out earlier, I don’t always make good choices.”

Ena lowered her head, considering her next words even as she spoke them. “Mayhap yer choices are better than I realized.”

“Oh?”

She looked up at him and found him studying her.

“Would that be all my choices?” he asked. “Even my interest in you?”

He had such vividly blue eyes that they reminded her of the sky on a clear summer day, with a brilliant sun lighting the world like a gem. She shouldn’t like the way he watched her. She shouldn’t let the flutters in her stomach tickle up through her chest. She shouldn’t want to kiss him.

“Ye’re my enemy,” she whispered. “And I’m yers.”

He lifted his hand to her face, framing her chin in his strong fingers. “I know,” he murmured. “But I can’t help wanting to kiss you.”

“Ena,” she said softly.

He smiled. “I want to kiss you, Ena.”

She closed her eyes and angled her face toward him in a silent agreement she knew he would not mistake.

Renault touched the bottom of Ena’s chin with his fingertips and guided his mouth to hers. Her lips were lush beneath his, full and sensual. It was a gentle kiss, a light meeting of their mouths with tentative curiosity, concealing a burning attraction. At least on his part.

His body nearly trembled with excitement, with the victory of finally having broken through her shield. He would do nothing to have her raise it again. Not when her glares had softened into something akin to longing.

He cupped his hand to her cheek and tilted his head to the side, lightly sweeping his tongue against her bottom lip. She continued to kiss him and answered the silent, careful request with a graze of her own tongue over his mouth. He pressed his thumb against her chin, easing her lips apart with light pressure.

His free hand curled around her waist, slowly drawing her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. At the moment their tongues connected, Ena gave a gasp of surprise.

Renault shifted back, lowering his hand. “Have you never been kissed, Ena?”

Her cheeks flushed and she shifted her eyes from him. Answer enough. No man had kissed her before him. No man had touched her.

Renault hesitated to reach for her again. He’d never debauched a maiden and had no plans to do so now.

“Did I do it wrong?” Her deep brown stare fixed on him, lashes impossibly long and lovely. There was an uncertainty there that had been absent in their previous encounters, something delicate and vulnerable.

It was a beautiful balance, the genuine kindness within her and the hard-edged ability to care for herself. It made her unique and altogether extraordinary.

“You’ve done everything right.” A deep desire within him wanted to pull her toward him once more and kiss her until they were both panting for breath. But he wouldn’t do that to a maiden. Not to her.

“I should be on my way before your brother wakes,” he said.

“Aye, of course.” Ena pushed up to standing. “Thank ye for Maribel, and for saving that family. And for the meat pie.”

“Thank you for saving me from your brother.” He took her hand in his, bowed over it and gently pressed his mouth to it.