Friday, July 23. 4:01 p.m. Lower Hutt, greater Wellington area, New Zealand.

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The conference room of Cameron and Holt Law was the same as every other blow-your-brains-out-boring conference room Daniel had ever been in. Fortunately, running adventure farm tours with his dad and younger brother, Matt, didn’t present many opportunities to be stuck in one.

Bland taupe walls, mushroom-toned carpet, and a large honey-colored conference table and chairs decorated the room. Only the quirky watercolors that Joel boasted were his wife’s creation gave the insipid decor any point of interest. Not that he was claustrophobic, but damn. What he wouldn’t give to be out of this room, which slyly seemed to shrink as the hours ticked by.

The four of them—he and Ana, Joel and Maggie—were propped against the wall like a row of drooping flowers, huddled together under the conference table. Their supplies were stacked beneath the reception coffee table he’d carried in. They sat on cushions from the reception sofas, but he’d given his to Joel who needed something soft to rest his injured arm on. Reports from the small radio, punctuated by hissing static, painted a grim picture of the outside world.

“Someone should’ve seen the towels hanging out of the window by now.” Joel stretched in the confined space, arching his back with a wince. “When can I have some more paracetamol, Ana? Bloody useless though the stuff is.”

“You’ve just had some. I’m sure someone will come to investigate the towels soon.” Ana had only just come back under the table, having spent most of the afternoon pacing the length of the room and glaring out the empty windows. As if her force of will would cause the tsunami waters to vanish.

Joel huffed and slumped back against the wall. It had been Ana’s idea to hang the staff room tea towels from the windows around their floor to try and attract attention. A few people braved the streets since the waves had finally stopped rolling inland, but the only voices they heard in response to their shouts were those of people trapped in the floor below.

Aftershocks struck at regular intervals. By unanimous agreement they had all decided to remain under the table. The cramped conditions and the ever-present chilly breeze blowing in through the broken windows made patience among the four of them strained.

Yet Ana never lost her cool, even when Joel bitched and moaned about his arm, or drove them crazy cracking endless lawyer jokes. He had to give her credit for that. She shifted next to him again, delivering another wave of perfume to tantalize his senses. He was no expert on women’s fragrances, but when breathing her in, he thought of warm spices in the faraway tropics, lush and exotic. He risked a glance.

With the back of her head resting against the wall, Ana’s eyelashes cast spiked shadows on her cheekbones flushed pink with the heat. Hair the color of his mother’s antique mahogany sideboard escaped her clip and spilled across her shoulders. His gaze followed the slope of café au lait skin under her collarbone to the rise of her breasts, dipping to her abdomen before straightening out to the length of her legs.

Ripping his gaze from the luscious shape of her, he scrutinized the underside of the table, focusing on the wood grain. Why in the world had he agreed to her crazy idea? A shot at redemption? Was he cocky enough to risk a life in order to make up for the one he’d screwed up years ago? Perhaps. But it was more than that.

Ana pushed buttons in him that he’d thought were long deactivated. He knew without a doubt she would make good on her threat to find a way home to her kids using any means available. He’d reluctantly agreed to help, because how could he let her go alone? It was basic human decency.

Face it, Calder, his conscience needled. Decency wasn’t in the forefront of your mind a few moments ago when you were checking her out. He didn’t need the added complication of being attracted to a woman he felt obligated to help.

He sighed, drew his knees up off the floor, and rested his head on his arms. It was going to be a long night.

“Hey, I got another one.” Joel yawned into the silence. “What’s the definition of mixed emotions?”

Ana turned her head in stiff increments toward him. The sun had sunk below the neighboring building an hour ago, and the natural light in the conference room was almost gone. Joel had yelled at her to stop pacing and get under the damn table before an aftershock dropped the ceiling on her head.

She dragged a smile to her lips. “An hour in which you don’t tell us another lame lawyer joke?”

A soft chuckle came from Daniel on her other side.

Joel’s face wrinkled into a grin. “Nup. It’s watching your lawyer drive over a cliff in your new Ferrari.”

“You slay me; you really do.”

“I know, I know,” he crowed. “One day I’m gonna give this law gig away and do stand-up.”

She forced out a laugh and patted his hand. He was doing the best he knew how to distract them from melting into hysterical worry. “You’ll knock ’em dead.”

“You’re a good friend, Ana Banana. Patronizing, but a good friend.” He yawned again and smacked his lips sleepily.

“Try to get some sleep.”

This time his use of a pet name, which usually rankled, only made her wistful, raising memories of happier times spent with Joel’s wife, Lucy, one of her closest friends. And if she let her mind go down that rabbit hole, she really would go nuts. Joel’s two girls went to school near their house and Luce was a stay-at-home artist mum who likely would’ve been working in her studio. They’d be fine. Just like Ana’s dad, her kids, and her other friends, everyone was going to be fine.

But tugging the blanket higher under her chin, she couldn’t suppress a tiny shiver. Once the sun had disappeared, so had her hopes of a rescue before dark. They were stuck there for the night. Icy teeth of despair sank deep into her guts.

The temperature dropped with the cold salt-laced air blowing through the shattered windows, billowing the curtains into ghostly shapes. She thought about crawling out from under the table and checking the water level below one last time. Toward the center of the city, sounds of heavy machinery roared and the eerie glow of huge spotlights lit up the darkness. Rescuers were out there somewhere. Just not here.

Her hands fisted around the blanket edge. Stressing about it was pointless. Daniel had reminded her of the promise she made with cool glances as dusk fell. He hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t needed to. Looking down at the filthy water and the tumble of falling masonry after each aftershock, Ana had ranted internally, her heart a solid fist of pain, but even that was wasted effort. She was trapped. Separated from her kids as effectively as if they’d been transported to another planet.

Maggie had fallen into an exhausted sleep half an hour ago. Joel, given his allotted painkillers, would follow shortly. And Daniel? She’d tried to ignore the bulk of him pressed up against her left side. While the right side of her body started a slow freeze when Joel awkwardly stretched out on the cushions to sleep, she could feel the heat seeping through the loose weave of the throw blanket, the only barrier between them. He was so warm, like a hot-water bottle. Only bigger.

Pretending to sleep was a sensible option, and by faking it, she might even be lucky enough to get some. One of the reasons why camping didn’t head her fun to-do list became apparent as she tried to decide which side to lie on. Either way, she would end up with her nose pressed against Joel’s shoulder, or in Daniel’s case, his thigh, since he was still sitting. Neither option appealed.

Ana stretched out on her back like an effigy on an ancient tomb, legs clenched together, fingers laced over her diaphragm, eyes resolutely shut. Soft, purring snores started beside her. At least Joel would be getting some sleep tonight.

Daniel’s blanket rustled as he slid down to a prone position and rolled onto his side to face her. She knew he faced her because she felt him studying her profile, even though her eyes were shut and night had fallen. His attention burned an invisible trail on her skin.

“How long are you going to pretend to be asleep?”

Much to her irritation, a frisson of sensual warmth purled through her veins at the deep timbre of his voice.

“That depends,” she whispered, keeping her eyes closed. “How long do you intend to stare at me?”

A husky chuckle. “How can you tell I’m staring?”

“It’s a mother thing. I always know when one of my kids is filching a cookie or poking a tongue out at me behind my back.”

Struck by a rogue gust of wind, the curtains rustled and flapped, directing a chilly draft in their direction. Ana shivered again, tugging the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She started when Daniel moved and the weight of another blanket settled over her.

“I can’t take your blanket.” She tried to pull the soft fabric off, but a large hand stilled her movements.

“Yes, you can. You’re cold. I’m not.”

An understatement. If it was Theo’s hand on hers, she would have promptly stuck a thermometer in his mouth.

“How can you not be cold?”

“Fast metabolism and years of sleeping rough.”

“Well. Thanks.” She smoothed the blanket again and settled back. “Think we’d better get some rest, though that’s probably easier in theory for me. No doubt you’re used to falling asleep in uncomfortable places?”

“Yep. I’ll be out in two minutes flat.” His shirt rustled on the carpet as he changed position to his other side.

Approximately half his estimation later, Ana listened to the steady sound of his breathing. Two blankets and she still couldn’t stop shaking. Damn heater disguised as a man, able to fall asleep in seconds. Maybe if she moved a fraction closer to him some of his body heat would radiate back. Rolling onto her side, she inched closer, stopping before any parts of their bodies touched.

Minutes crept past. She remained hunched in the blankets, goose bumps pimpling the length of her. Had she ever been so cold? Shifting her face forward, the tip of her nose touched the smooth cotton of Daniel’s shirt. She caught the clean trace of washing powder and the more subtle scent of his shampoo. It had been a long, long time since she’d been this close to a man. The taken-for-granted comfort of shared body warmth left an aching hollow in her gut.

Unless she intended to stay awake all night with her teeth clacking together, she needed to get over her inhibitions. She’d need every bit of strength to get through tomorrow. A functioning zombie wouldn’t cut it. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Heart fluttering in her chest like a trapped sparrow, she shuffled over the last few inches to fit herself around the curve of his body. Ana Grace, you outrageous slut.

A sigh hissed out of her as the heat from his broad back transmitted through her thin shirt and warmed her breasts. It was completely inappropriate to snuggle up to a man she hardly knew, but screw it. Daniel Calder could pry her cold, stiff arms off if he didn’t want her there.

Closing her eyes, she gave tiredness free rein, sinking under the weight of mental and physical exhaustion. As consciousness faded, Daniel tugged her wrist around his chest. Captured in his hand, her loose fist rose and fell with each movement beneath it, her breaths slowing to match the easy rhythm of his.