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“Time to change, ladies." The stranger's deep, penetrating voice rumbled through Zara's body. Rich and full, it was the kind of voice that made lawyers spill milkshakes and babble incoherently as they thrust sticky business cards into celebrity hands. "Is there a problem?" Parvati made a show of inspecting her weapon while Zara tried to untie her tongue. Although she couldn't see the dude's face, he was tall---at least six-two---and powerfully built, the top of his coveralls unzipped and tied around his narrow waist. His black T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders and magnificent pecs as if it had been painted on his muscular body. One thick, deeply tanned forearm bunched and flexed as he unholstered his weapon in one smooth practiced motion.” — Sara Desai