“I’m shoving my way past the crowds in the couriers’ office, and a hand lands on my waist. I instinctively jab back with my elbow to knock the wind out of the fool who thinks he can take liberties. Another hand catches my arm. “Laia.” A low voice murmurs into my ear. Keenan’s voice. My skin thrills at the familiar scent of him. He lets my arm go, but his hand tightens on my waist.”
