Valia strode towards Ligon, almost reaching his desk.

“This is the information I gathered,” she said, her voice steadier than her pulse.

But as she extended the package, it slipped from her damp fingers sideways and hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Curses,” she muttered, bending quickly to retrieve it.

Ligon’s composure nearly cracked. His gaze, traitorous and unrepentant, followed her downward. The white cloth tied at her waist pulled taut as she bent, the butterfly knot shifting ...