Friday, July 23. 10:14 a.m. Lower Hutt, greater Wellington area, New Zealand.

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Daniel Calder wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when the gift horse came in the form of his younger sister’s very attractive boss giving him a ride from the airport to his last appointment of the day, saving him the hassle of public transport. There was nothing at all horsey about his sister’s employer, Ana Grace, unless he were to compare her to the thoroughbreds raised on the farm next to his.

Sleek, skittish, and knockout beautiful.

He wasn’t idiot enough to let the thought show on his face, though. It’d been a close call at Wellington’s domestic terminal, where she’d been waiting for his flight. The photos Nadia posted on social media of her nannying charges and the occasional glimpse of their mother in the background hadn’t done Ana justice. He’d frozen for a moment, busy travellers spilling around him under the shadow of the giant Lord of the Rings eagle sculpture mounted on the ceiling, and stared at a woman typing on her phone. Long dark curls spilled over her shoulder and she absently brushed one away from her cheek. She had the dusky warm skin inherited from her Maori ancestry, and when she looked up from her phone, her eyes were a rich hickory brown. She’d given him a quick once-over before her eyes skidded back to his in unsure recognition. He’d waved, swung his overnight bag on his shoulder, and strode toward her.

The twenty-five minute drive from the airport, around Wellington’s stunning coastal bays and onto the motorway that connected the vibrant capital of New Zealand with the neighboring city of Lower Hutt, built beside the winding Hutt River, seemed to take twice as long with the Friday traffic. Every man and his dog, as the saying went, was looking forward to the weekend. As was Daniel. He hadn’t had more than a passing catch-up with Nadia since she’d started work at this nannying job six months ago. He’d accompany Ana home after his meeting, and since she was giving his sister the afternoon off, maybe he’d treat Nads to lunch. Her choice as long as it wasn’t sushi.

Brisk lines of traffic sped along the coastal motorway heading away from the capital’s skyscrapers. They made easy small talk on the way, as strangers who are connected by a thin thread of commonality do—how great Nadia was with Ana’s two kids, the stunning day in the middle of winter, the progression of ever-present road construction as they entered Lower Hutt. The main shopping streets of the smaller city were bustling with people and a fair share of suit-wearing professionals. They drove on to a less-populated part of the city and Ana pulled into a small parking lot.

“Here we are.” She shot him a small, polite smile then climbed out of the car, quickly opening the back door. “So I’ll meet you back here in an hour?” Ana wrestled a heavy-looking box on the back seat toward her.

He jumped out of the car and swooped around it. The crazily high heels she wore wobbled on the sidewalk as she staggered under the weight. He plucked the box out of her arms. “Let me give you a hand with that.”

“Thanks,” she said. “The elevator is out of order again, so I won’t argue.”

He hefted the box of files more securely in his arms and eyeballed the three-story building across from the parking lot, where Ana said her law firm was on the top floor. “No worries. Lead the way.”

Weak winter sunshine filtered through the gaps of neighboring buildings as they crossed the crowded parking lot, Ana’s heels echoing between the older-styled concrete structures. No skyscrapers in the Hutt, as locals called the satellite city, unlike Wellington whose business district was crammed with them and the suits that worked there. To each his own, but he’d visited more cities than he cared to count in his thirty-three years and he’d rather have the hilly paddocks of the Calder family farm any day.

Bypassing the Out of order tape stuck across the elevator, he followed Ana into the stairwell. She paused as the fire door clicked shut behind them and slanted him a glance.

“Don’t judge,” she said then slipped off the strappy sandals and hooked them over her finger. “But I’m not insane enough to walk three flights in these shoes, no matter how cute they are.”

“They are pretty adorable,” he said, allowing only a fraction of his amusement to show.

She laughed and the sound echoed around the stairwell. Damn, but she was cute.

“They also give me an extra three inches.” She climbed a couple of stairs and half turned back to him. “Though someone of your height probably couldn’t appreciate that.” Her brow crinkled prettily. “How tall are you?”

“Six two.”

“Ugh. A veritable giant.” She huffed out a sigh and continued up the stairs, the flippy skirt she wore swirling around her bare legs.

Daniel started after her, climbing steadily, his gaze drawn to her sweetly swaying ass in front of him. Holy hell, but he could’ve walked up another twenty flights with that view to look at. He shook his head ruefully and locked his gaze on the steps ahead of him until they reached the third floor landing. Ana pinned open the heavy door for him to go through, then raced ahead to the glass door of her office. She slipped her heels back on and opened that door for him.

He walked inside. Ana’s law firm’s reception was strikingly neutral and painfully neat. His gaze bounced over a waiting area with two beige two-seater couches and a glass coffee table with a smattering of glossy magazines. Next to it a hallway ran the length of the building, and he could see glass-fronted offices on either side. The reception desk, across from the seating area, was a large honey-oak colored monstrosity and behind it two sets of female eyes locked onto him like heat-seeking missiles.

“Good morning, Ana.” This came from the older of the two women whose life experience and toughness showed more in her shrewd, examining stare than the cap of iron-gray hair. She peered at Daniel over a pair of bright yellow framed spectacles and laughter lines creased the corners of her eyes.

“And good morning to you, soldier.” The younger woman next to her, a buffed to perfection blonde, smiled at him with open curiosity.

Daniel shot a glance at Ana, who had guilt written all over her face. “Um, Daniel, this is Irene our receptionist”—the older woman’s stern countenance slid into a welcoming smile—“and Maggie, one of our secretaries.”

“Ana mentioned she was picking Nadia’s brother up from the airport,” Maggie said. “She also mentioned you were a military man. Special forces?” She sounded hopeful.

“Former military,” he said agreeably. “And nothing as exciting as the SAS, I’m afraid.”

“A woman can hope for a real-life hero, right, Ana?”

A sliver of ice punched into his gut at the secretary’s description, but he shoved it aside and readjusted the box in his arms. “Where do you want this?”

Ana shot a quelling glance over the reception desk and ducked around him, walking briskly toward the hallway. “My office is this way.”

He followed her. “Nice meeting you both,” he said as he passed the reception desk.

Nicer if they—and Ana—hadn’t assumed Daniel was something he wasn’t.