The first thing Raven felt was warmth.

Not the lazy, golden warmth of sunlight, but the heavy, possessive heat of a body pressed against hers. Jaxon’s arm was draped across her waist like a steel chain, holding her in place as if she might vanish the moment he loosened his grip.

For a long, quiet moment, she just lay there, watching the faint light creep through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city outside was waking up to car horns, distant sirens, the low hum of life. But here, it felt ...