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against it, but Jeric’s only thought was getting away.
    “Thank you,” he pushed her back. “Thank you for the offer, but really, I have to be getting back.”
    She looked at him, her face a mix of hurt and confusion, and Jeric immediately felt awful. He looked around frantically and then spotted his salvation. A man was walking into the hall. It was Fait, his cavalry commander, who, from his late arrival and the way he was stomping the frozen mud off his boots, had just come from overseeing the stabling of the unit’s horses.
    “Fait!” he cried, waving the man over.
    Fait gave him a surprised look, but hurried to his side, grinning wickedly as he picked his way through the orgy happening all around them.
    “This is Fait,” Jeric said, pulling the man to his side. “My cavalry leader and one of our highest-ranking officers.”
    Fait smiled at the girl and she blushed deeply. Jeric sighed with relief. This couldn’t have worked out better. Fait was known everywhere as a ladies’ favorite for his slender good looks and golden hair. He was also a horrendous flirt, something that Jeric normally disapproved of, but tonight he was extremely grateful.
    “I must get back,” Jeric said, stepping away from them. “Keep her company for me, Fait.”
    “My pleasure, Lieutenant!” Fair said, catching a lock of the girl’s dark hair and bringing it to his lips. The girl giggled and Jeric made his escape, slipping back up the stairs.
    Of course, he realized as he reached the narrow hall at the top once again, he hadn’t escaped at all. He was right back where he’d started. Jeric stopped at the top of the stairs, unwilling to move down the hall, closer to the curtain that hid his real desire. He could almost imagine Zoa’s arching shadow through the thin cloth and the mere thought of it made his body hum.
    He turned away with a curse, leaning against the wall and swirling the wine in his cup. How pathetic was he? Here he was, a lieutenant in the bravest and most decorated of all the legions, hiding from a woman. He was pathetic, damaged, cursed with the ability to feel pleasure, but never satisfaction. What kind of man was he, then? Was he even a man at all?
    A dark anger fell over him and Jeric slammed the wine back before tossing the wooden cup on the ground. He should never have come here. He’d known this was how it would be, the frustration, the longing, his cock so hard it was painful as visions of Zoa danced through his mind. Zoa beneath him, Zoa panting, Zoa sucking him, moaning in pleasure, Zoa riding the captain, then riding him.
    But even as his body cried out for her, Jeric stayed put. He could have all those things, but what would it come to? At the end of the night he’d be just as hard as when he’d started and she would laugh at his inadequacy. They all would. Jeric kicked the empty cup with a booted foot. He wished he’d never come here.
    Soft, urgent moans broke him out of his self pity and he glanced down the stairs. There, on the first landing, not more than four steps down from where he was standing, Fait had the serving girl pinned up against the wall. Her skirt was bunched up at her waist and her feet were dangling in the air as the cavalry commander held her up, his head buried in her neck as he thrust into her. She moaned with each thrust, her voice growing louder and deeper as she clawed Fait’s back.
    Jeric glared and retreated further into the hall. This did little good, however, for it put him back by Zoa’s curtain. He could see movement behind it, and, against his better judgment, he leaned forward slightly to get a better look.
    What he saw made him shudder and grip the doorframe. The inside of her room was brightly lit and the curtain was thinner than he’d thought, hiding almost nothing now that he was this close. He could see them both sitting up on her wide bed, Zoa facing the door, her breasts bouncing as the captain kneeled behind her, moving her up and down on his