Page 107 of Moon Craving

away from their temporary bed. He simply nodded and then covered her lips with his

before she could say anything else, or ask any questions he did not want to answer.

She went rigid against him, all implications of unconscious surrender disappearing

as she jerked her face away from his and broke the kiss.

He reared up to lean on his arms above her. "What is wrong, angel?" Then a

thought struck him. "Are you still sore?"

She did not reply, keeping her face averted so he could not read her expression.

That bothered him more than he cared to admit and he carefully grasped her chin

to turn her head so their eyes met. "Answer me."

She stared at him, her soft brown gaze shimmering with what looked like

resignation.

"You are sore. It is all right. We will wait until you have healed." He was no

monster.

"I am not sore."

"Then why did you turn away?" he demanded with exasperation.

"How can you share your body with your enemy?"

"I would not." Disgust at the idea laced his voice.

Her brows drew together in confusion. "You said I was your enemy when we were

eating the evening meal."

"I did not."

"You did. I do not always understand . . ." She hesitated and blew out a clearly

frustrated breath. "Gaelic. I do not always understand Gaelic perfectly. It is not my first

language, but I know the word for enemy."

He mentally reviewed each word he said to her over the evening meal and

comprehension finally dawned. "I said it was enough that you and I are not enemies, I do

not expect us to be friends."

Her eyes glowed with pleasure, but dimmed almost as quickly as he finished

speaking.

"You do not think we can be friends?"

She was formerly English. She was a woman. She was not Chrechte and could