“Do you? Doesn’t seem like you have the stamina. Or is it the ballocks? Then again, could be the stem, too.” His quartermaster laughed, showing a row of bloodstained teeth. “Stem or berries, Captain?”

Rhystan’s gaze narrowed. “Shut the hell up.”

“Been a while since you had a woman, no? Can’t figure out which end is up? Let me help you out there—it’s the pointy end.”

The men around them roared with laughter and hollered lewd insults. The rub to his masculinity was salt in an open wound, and Rhystan couldn’t help feeling rage that he’d been reduced to a dithering greenhorn who’d fled from his own private quarters with his tail between his legs. After one blasted kiss.

Gideon was right. The current version of him wouldn’t have hesitated to toss any willing bit of muslin to his bed or bend her over his desk, no matter who she was or who she’d been, and finish what he and Sarani had started. And she had been willing…desperately so.

Then why had he stopped?

As if his thoughts had conjured her, Rhystan caught a glimpse of Sarani hunkered down by the stairs, her stare trained on the fight. She didn’t display an ounce of worry. She’d seen him spar before, though his style and technique had changed in the past handful of years.

Eyes as beautiful as the night sky met his. Arousal roared and churned anew through his beaten body. His desire had not waned in the least, not even with a man the size of a house giving him and his libido a thrashing. No, only one thing would satisfy.

The minute distraction allowed Gideon to get a blow into his chin that smacked his head sideways. Despite the crunch of bone, Rhystan followed with a ruthless jab to his quartermaster’s gut that had the man stumbling back with an ugly wheeze.

Stretching his aching jaw, Rhystan smirked at Sarani, who had bolted to her feet, and he raised a mocking eyebrow at the look of admiration edged with concern on her face. Unsurprisingly, she shot him a crude finger gesture that made him laugh aloud. Which made him unable to dodge the ham-sized fist that came directly at his temple.

He was still laughing when he crashed down like the sorriest sack of shit this side of the ocean.

* * *

“Move aside, you lot!” Sarani swore as she shoved through the smelly line of bodies exchanging coin and other items to crouch at Rhystan’s side.

Gideon stooped beside her and grunted through a split lip. “He’s out like a blown lamp.”

“I can see that, you great oaf,” she growled, wincing at the swelling bruise that was already spreading on the duke’s temple and cheek. “Did you have to hit him that hard? And why were the two of you brawling anyway? Fisticuffs isn’t the way to solve disagreements.”