Free Fall

“Since when has that ever been a deterrent?” But she did dodge back into her office to trade her sunglasses for her goggles, grabbing them off their perch on her desk lamp.

Carrie’s laugh rang out as Lily left. “Ski one for me, would you?”

“You got it.” The lodge was full of skiers and boarders, all talking, some eating, and by the looks of it, everyone enjoying themselves. Lily found herself smiling as she walked through and went outside. Small flakes drifted lazily down as she got on the lift.

She’d no sooner gotten off at midmountain when she came across a fight between two boarders who turned out to be identical-twin fools. They were fighting over which run to take, and had gathered an audience. Lily swore, tossed aside her board and leaped in, pushing them apart, but not before she took an elbow to her chin, making her see stars. “You,” she growled, jabbing one in the chest. They were about twenty years old, lanky and looking a little worse for the fight in the snow. “You okay?”

He touched a growing bruise under his eye and glared at his twin. “Yeah.”

“That’s too bad,” she said, then whirled when his brother snickered. “Listen carefully. Go down Calamity Alley, go around the lodge, not through, and straight to your car.”

“Calamity Alley,” he whined. “That’s nothing but a bunny hill.”

She swiped her finger over his season pass hanging around his neck. “Go, or lose this.”

“Hey, I paid good money for that!” He pulled free. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Her chin throbbed, and every moment that passed meant less time on the slopes before she had to go back inside. “See this jacket? It means I can tell you whatever I want.” She gestured down the hill. “Don’t come back today.” She turned to his brother. “And you. Go down Abby’s Lane, which runs parallel to Calamity Alley. Same rules. Around the lodge, not through, and don’t come back today or you’ll lose your season pass.”

A long, tense moment passed while they shot her matching sullen looks. With a few of their buddies egging them on behind her, she turned in a circle in the lightly falling snow, hand on her walkie-talkie, wondering if she’d have to call for backup, which would just really top it for her.

Then a man pushed his way through the small crowd to stand beside her, and her heart hit her throat.

Her Sexy Man In Black.

He’d replaced his sunglasses with goggles, as well, but other than that, looked the same. Which was to say, knee-knockingly good. He took in the situation with one quick, sweeping gaze, then settled that gaze on her, silently offering support while letting her remain in charge.

She eyed the twins again, but after a minute they both huffed out a breath. “It’s snowing anyway,” one muttered, and they went their separate ways with matching grumbles. Only then did she let herself relax as her gaze once again collided with a dark, melting-chocolate one.

“Fun stuff,” he said.

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s Idiot Central around here.”

He flashed a devastating grin that revved her engines. “You handled it.”

Yeah, she had, but that he’d noticed and given her credit for it made her take a good long second look at him. And a third. “You having a good day?”

“Oh, yeah. And seeing you again is a nice bonus, too.”

She bent to tighten the laces on her boots, giving herself a moment because the man seriously scrambled her brain, even more so now that she knew he wasn’t just an arresting face and hot bod. He had brains to go with both. And that he worked in SAR just upped the gotta-have-him factor because there was nothing, absolutely nothing, hotter than a guy capable of putting his life on the line to rescue another.

She both felt and heard him ski closer, his edges scraping into the groomed snow at his short stop. When she straightened, he was right there, facing the opposite direction to her, skis parallel to her board. Close enough to touch.

He took off his right glove. Reaching out, his jacket crinkling as it shifted over his broad shoulders, he touched her bruised chin.

“I’m okay,” she said.

He simply pulled her shaded goggles off her face.

“What?” she asked, squinting through the falling snow.

“I wanted to see your eyes.”

Hmm. Figuring turnabout was fair play, she tugged his goggles off, as well.

The air crackled as they looked at each other. Then he rocked back on his heels and let out a breath. “I thought maybe I’d imagined it.”

“Imagined…?”

Her jacket was unzipped to her breastbone, with only a thermal silk scoop-neck undershirt beneath. With a light touch, he put his bare finger to the pulse racing at the base of her throat. “This.”

3

ALL LILY COULD HEAR WAS the thump, thump, thumping of her heart beating too fast in her ears. Her clothes felt too tight—or maybe that was her own skin. A heavy anticipation filled the cold air and she tried to tell herself it was something she’d felt often. Had acted on often.

But today, with this man, it felt startlingly, shockingly different.

Again he ran the pad of his finger over her pulse.

She took some comfort in the fact his own, beating at his throat, was no more steady than hers. “This…what?” she asked.

Something flashed in his eyes. Impatience? “I’m not sure I can put it into words without getting too graphic.”

Her body let out a shiver, and honest to God, her knees wobbled. “I see.” At least her voice was steady. “Does this happen to you often?”

“No. You?”

Feeling as if she could dive into his eyes and happily drown? Wanting to rip her clothes off and take his hands and put them on her body, sure she would die if he didn’t hurry? “No,” she managed. “Not often.”

His gaze danced over her, from her boots to her legs, her body, her helmet, beneath which her hair was contained in a scrunchie at her shoulder blades. Finally, he met her eyes.

She knew she was nothing that special or extraordinary, and yet when he just kept looking his fill, she found herself squirming. “What?”

Now he stroked that finger carefully over her jaw. “At the rescue this morning, I heard the other patrollers refer to you as Slim, but that’s not your name.”

“No. It’s Lily Harmon.”

“Logan White.” His hand moved from her jaw around to the nape of her neck, where he tugged lightly, playfully, on her ponytail. “You’ve had a long day already, Lily Harmon.”

“And yet, given all I have left to do, it’s only just begun.”

“An overachiever?”

She laughed. Wouldn’t her sisters get a kick out of that accusation? “Not quite.” His shoulders blocked her view of anything but him, something she found she didn’t mind in the least.

“Are you still on duty?” he asked.

“I never really was when it comes to ski patrol today, I’m only on call. I…uh, work in the lodge.” I own it. A fact she usually kept to herself because it changed people’s perceptions, which in turn pissed her off. “I’m on a late lunch break.”