Kitabı oku: «Free Fall», sayfa 2

“Ohio.”

“Long way from home.” She loved hearing their guests’ stories. Plus, she just loved his voice, low and just a little husky. “So what brings you here, besides the wonderful resort and the fact we have the best skiing on the planet?”

“My partner gave me a week out here. Said I needed a vacation.”

“Wow. Nice partner.”

Before she could ask more, or what he did for a living, they were at the top of the lift. They got off together and skied forward to Upper Way, which would deposit them at the top of the world—or what felt like it at 11,150 feet. They got on with two boarders, who managed to get between her and her beautiful stranger, and this time there was little talk and lots of awe as they all took in the stunning Sierras in full winter splendor.

When they finally reached the top, Lily stopped to wave to the lift operator and pulled her sunglasses out from inside her jacket.

The two boarders quickly vanished down the front of Surprise, a lovely, groomed intermediate run that would eventually take them back to the midmountain lift. Her mysterious rebel had shifted forward, meanwhile, to read the large billboard map that exhibited all the runs. A dry-erase board beneath it listed which of them had been groomed and their conditions. He bent to tighten his boots—which gave her the chance to notice that his butt was as extremely fine as the rest of him—then he straightened and pushed off, heading toward the back side and Drop Off.

“Hey,” she called out, but it was too late. “Damn it.” She went after him. At the lip of the run, she hastily bent and locked her other foot into her binding. He’d already begun his descent, and as she watched, her mouth fell open. He’d said he was an “all right” skier, but the man was beyond anything even close to all right. In fact, he moved like poetry in motion, perfectly in sync with the fall line of the mountain. Was that ever sexy.

With a grin of anticipation and lust and pure joy, she threw herself off the edge of her world, flying down the mountain after him.

2

LILY PASSED HER HOT MAN In Black, waving as she swooshed on by. The beauty of Drop Off was its combination of sheer length and vertical drop, never failing to give her a roller-coaster, stomach-to-her-toes feeling—but today the run had an extra edge to it, courtesy of her sizzling audience.

The trees on either side of the sharp, creviced run blurred as her eyes watered with the icy morning chill. Still she pushed harder, happily losing herself in speed and adrenaline.

Halfway down, she leaped into a quick stop and, as she often liked to do, turned to look back up at the cliff she’d just taken. Breath coming in quick, short pants, she swiped at her glasses to rid them of the flakes of powder blocking her view.

He skied up beside her, stopping close enough to spray her with snow. “Still worried about me?”

She shot him a droll look. “You failed to mention you were expert.”

He let out a slow grin. “You failed to ask.”

True.

“Race to the bottom?” he asked casually.

The bad girl in her screamed, Oh, yes! But the sensible ski patroller in her demurred. “Racing on a hill not denoted for such things isn’t wise.”

He laughed, a sound that scraped low in her belly. “And here I thought you were so tough.”

She stared into his teasing eyes and nearly drowned in the dark orbs. “Tough and stupid aren’t synonyms.”

“We both know you’re dying to race me.” Leaning in close, he whispered, “I dare you.”

He had no way of knowing that she loved a good dare, that she’d never turned one down in her life. Not in second grade, when Tony Villa had dared her to put superglue on their teacher’s chair. Not in sixth grade, when Eric Orlando had dared her to pull down her pants and moon the baseball team. Even though a dare had led her right down the wrong path many, many more times than she could count she’d long ago given up fighting the lust for life that throbbed in her veins. She looked around to make sure they were alone. “I’ll show you ‘tough.’”

His grin was slow and wicked. “Are we on, then?”

“You bet your sweet ass.” With no one in sight, making the dare okay in her books, she blew him a little kiss, then leaped forward, going balls out, straight down the mountain. She could hear him on her tail, and then he was right next to her, and for long moments they stayed like that, side by side, the swooshing of the snow beneath his skis and her board a wonderful sound.

Finally she edged free just a little and eyeballed the next sharp turn. I can take him right here, I can pull ahead—

Her walkie-talkie chirped, and with a grand sigh for what might have been, she stopped short and answered the call. “Go ahead,” she said to base.

“Skier disappeared out-of-bounds, on the north face between Surprise and Drop Off. Friends say he has no business being out-of-bounds, and he’s not responding to shout-outs. Danny said you’re already up there.”

“I’m on Drop Off. I’ll ski between the trees to get over there, see if I can see him.”

“Chris is on his way, too.”

Chris had her old, beloved position of Patrol Director, and loved the mountain as much as she did. He, too, was only on call today, but undoubtedly hadn’t been able to resist the fresh snow any more than she had. She clipped the radio back onto her belt and eyed the trees off to her right, knowing she could board through the tightly growing pines and come out just above the area where the skier had gone out-of-bounds. Or so she hoped. She turned to go, then remembered. She wasn’t alone. She eyed her perfect stranger’s long, most excellent form.

“You think he’s lost?”

“Or down,” she said. “And hurt.”

“And so off you go.”

“Yeah. Sorry about the race. Maybe we can give it another shot later.”

He nodded, and with a good amount of regret, Lily took off through the trees, which in itself was an adventure on a board with a foot of fresh powder. With the pines packed so close to each other and this part of the mountain so incredibly steep, even experienced skiers ran into serious trouble here.

But because she knew the entire hill like the back of her hand, she came out of the trees just above the out-of-bounds area on the north face, which consisted of a steep cliff overlooking a valley of rough, unskiable terrain. Despite that and the clear boundary markers, there were still a few yahoos every year who tried to ski out this way.

Traversing along the edge a little bit, she indeed found a set of tracks. Someone had skied down right here and gone off the edge. She stared at the sign that read Unpatrolled Beyond This Point, Out-Of-Bounds Territory and shook her head. “Idiot,” she muttered. She used her walkie-talkie to check in with base and was clipping it back to her belt when she heard a skier coming. Puzzled, she turned to face Sexy Man In Black.

“I followed your track.” He stood with ease on his skis, white powder dusting halfway up his long legs. “You going down here?”

“Yeah.”

His smile was gone, replaced by an intensity that took her breath every bit as much as his good humor had. “Be safe.”

“You, too. Careful getting out of here.” She pushed off.

The terrain was even steeper than Drop Off had been, the way uneven, with the double threat of sheer rock and unmarked cliffs, not to mention the possibility of an avalanche. Granted, there’d been a patrolling team out at five this morning, checking on that very threat, but you couldn’t be too careful.

Or too careless. This area was unpatrolled for a good reason, and as she maneuvered her way along, following the tracks of the missing skier, she cursed him for putting even more people in jeopardy with his foolishness.

She pulled up short just before a heart-stopping cliff, gratified to see the tracks ahead veer off to the left. Again, she pulled out her walkie-talkie and verified with base that she was in the correct vicinity, had his tracks in sight and that, so far, he hadn’t fallen down the cliff. At least not this one.

“I think I see him.”

Jerking in surprise, she once again turned and met a dark, chocolate gaze. “What the hell are you doing following me?”

“Helping,” he said simply.

He was an even better skier than she’d thought if he’d gotten here without a problem. “Look, this is crazy stuff. It’s one thing for me to put myself on the line to find a thoughtless idiot, but you don’t need to or have to. Now, seriously, stop. Stay. I don’t want to have to worry about you, too.”

“I’m SAR,” he said, and when she just stared at him, he clarified, “Search and Rescue.”

“I know what SAR means.” Hmm. She didn’t have time to analyze the little skip in her pulse, nor did she know what to make of him, a man clearly as insane as she was.

“I can help,” he said.

Lily was very used to the people in her world trying to rein her in, hold her back, telling her she couldn’t, she shouldn’t, constantly reminding her how much of a screwup she’d been all her life—which, perversely, always made her want to step over the proverbial line. Or erase it.

But now, for the first time ever, she had the urge to rein someone in, to tell them they couldn’t, they shouldn’t, and she had to admit that it was majorly unnerving. She wanted to grab him, make him wait, make sure that he didn’t get hurt, that he stayed safe. Was that how her family felt? “Okay, so you’re trained, but this is my rescue—”

“There.” He pointed, then pushed past her to actually beat her to the rescue. Only about twenty-five yards straight down the vertical slope, a skier sat on a rock, looking a little sheepish as he lifted one foot, minus the ski he’d clearly lost into the vast valley below.

With one last sigh, Lily followed.

THE RESCUE WENT WELL, THE lecture given, the reports filled out, and before Lily knew it, the whole incident was over.

And her mystery man was gone.

She’d never even learned his name. Her pride chafed a little at that, and the fact that apparently he hadn’t felt the need to learn hers, even though he’d been the one to use the small first-aid kit in her fanny pack to treat a wound on the lost skier’s knee. He’d chatted with the young punk, joking about how he’d been given this trip while at a bachelor party for his best friend and about how much easier skiing was than rappelling out of helicopters, or flying them, which he apparently did on a daily basis in his SAR duties.

Watching him work had been an interesting experience. He had such an easygoing confidence and an authority that didn’t grate or grind on her nerves. That had been a first.

Still, she knew she hadn’t imagined the scorching heat in his eyes every time he’d looked at her, so if he was stupid enough to let her go, well, then, he could just damn well suffer for it.

Back in her office, she worked for several hours solid on her least favorite chore—paperwork. Even a small resort like Bay Moon generated mountains of it, all of which had to be done, though she’d have preferred to be outside on the real mountain. Trying not to resent it, she approved the budget for the ski shop’s fall stock, looked over Sara’s guest-services report and eyed the accounting reports for Gwyneth. Ugh.

Finally, she glanced at the clock. Three o’clock. A good time for the lunch she’d never had, she figured, and popped out of her office.

“You going out for a bite?” Carrie asked. She was a local, like Lily, who’d spent years enjoying her ultimate-ski-bunny status, until two years ago when she’d fallen on the slopes and tweaked her lower back. Now she occasionally skied a beginner slope, but mostly worked in the office, enjoying her great view, with an unbelievably good attitude.

If Lily had lost her ability to board or ski, she wouldn’t have been nearly so accepting. “Yeah, I’m going out.”

Carrie grinned. “Let me guess—you’re going to the midlodge for a burger.”

She was going to the midlodge, all right, but she wouldn’t be stopping for a burger. She’d be getting on yet another lift to get to the top of the hill for a few runs before they closed. “Mmm…maybe.”

“It’s snowing again.”

“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.”

“That works.”

Anticipation quivered through her veins as the snow continued to fall lightly. She thought of all the things they could do on the rest of her break, none of which involved eating. At least not food. “Works for what exactly?”

“Well, we never finished our little run on Drop Off. You still think you can beat me?”

She stared at him, then had to laugh. A race on the hill. Not ripping off their clothes. Right. “Oh, I know I can beat you.”

His eyes flashed with the challenge and that in turn set off a little chain reaction of excitement within her. “Let’s go,” she said.

They took the lift, then made their way to the top of the run and looked down at the sharp incline. There were only a few skiers scattered on it, and they were moving quickly out of sight.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah.” She buckled herself into her binding. “Prepare to lose.”

He laughed, a low, sexy sound she could grow extremely attached to. “We’ll see about that—”

She didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence before she pushed off. Cheating? Only slightly. Besides, she’d seen him ski now, and truthfully, she wasn’t all that positive she actually could beat him, unless she caught him by surprise in some way.

As the wind whistled past her, the thrill of the run settled in and her heart started pumping in a staccato beat. He caught up, and for a while they were neck and neck in the falling snow, the only sound being the swoosh, swoosh of their equipment pushing at the powder snow.

Evenly matched, she thought with a rush. They were shockingly evenly matched.

Would they be so evenly matched in bed?

Just as the errant thought entered her head, a lone skier suddenly vaulted into action ahead of them, not looking, moving too quickly and recklessly on the trail as it narrowed to a width that allowed for only one person safely at a time. Lily edged ahead of Logan and slowed them both down as she realized the other skier was completely, totally, out of control going into the turn. Even as she thought it, he skidded and began to slide toward the sharp drop-off. “Hey!” she called. “Slow down!”

The skier jerked at her voice and, clearly realizing he wasn’t going to make the turn, went down in a tumble on his skis rather than fall over the cliff.

Lily began to board around him, planning on getting below him to stop and check that he was okay. But he struggled to get up, all scrambled arms and legs, managing to hook her with his pole as she went into her stop, tripping her into a dive.

She felt herself heading, airborne, directly toward the edge and the falling that waited past it, but then she was landing hard, in a tangle of limbs that weren’t her own.

Logan. He sat up, quickly reaching for her. “You okay?”

No, she was not. She’d fallen. Fallen. She never fell, damn it. She spit out a mouthful of snow and looked around, realizing he’d taken her down purposely, catching her inches from the cliff. Her stomach wobbled at the damage the rocks might have done to her body if he hadn’t been so quick-thinking on his skis. Before she could stand, he wrapped his fingers around her arm and held her still. “That was a helluva dive. Make sure you’re okay first.”

The only thing hurting was her pride, and she pulled free. “I’m fine.” She looked over her shoulder in time to catch the out-of-control skier bolt down the mountain, without so much as a backward look.

“Nice,” Logan said drily.

“Most are.” She stood and looked down at her left boot, no longer buckled onto her board. Great. “I broke the binding.” Snapped it right off, actually, which was nothing her screwdriver could fix. The prospect of having to walk down the damn mountain only added insult to injury.

“Hang on.” Logan shrugged out of his backpack and opened it, burrowing through the contents.

“A roll of duct tape?” she asked incredulously when he held it up.

“Watch.” Then he proceeded to pull a total MacGyver, using the tape to rig the board’s binding to hold her boot. “No more hotshot stuff,” he warned, stepping back so that she could buckle herself in. “Don’t want to push it.”

She stood there brushing herself off, torn between annoyance and a telling pain in her left knee. It was an old injury, and surgery, twice, had repaired it, but damn if it didn’t suddenly ache like a son of a bitch.

“Let’s take a minute,” he said, watching her closely.

Hating the weakness, she forced a smile. “Why, are you tired?”

“Lily—”

The walkie-talkie at her hip went off, and anything the two of them might have said or done was put on hold as Sara’s voice filled the air. She was the middle sister, two years younger than Gwyneth. Instead of cold, cynical and bossy, she was mothering, nosy and bossy. “Lily Rose, I’m at your desk, and you’re not here.”

“Amazing powers of deduction,” Lily muttered.

“Lily Rose? Can you hear me?”

She might be a badass to the rest of the world, but to Sara and Gwyneth, she was the eternal baby sister. “What’s up?”

“You need a maid. My God, your desk is a disaster.”

“Thanks. I’ll be down in a few,” she said into the walkie-talkie.

Less than five seconds later, her cell phone rang. She didn’t have to look to see it was Sara. “What now?” she said when she’d hit speakerphone rather than take off her helmet so that she could hear.

“I just wanted to tell you something.” Sara spoke with slow care, a sure sign she was miffed. “Two things. Aunt Debbie showed up earlier. She skied a while and now wants a suite.”

“Well, you’re guest services. Check with your reservations desk, but I’m sure both our suites are taken this week.”

“They are. She’s making a stink, saying she told you to clear one for her.”

Aunt Debbie was their mother’s younger sister, their grandma’s “surprise,” a late-in-life baby, and was only a few years older than Gwyneth. A born diva, she lived in New York, but always came out to ski once a year or so, wearing the finest designer gear, bearing embarrassingly expensive gifts and smothering hugs. She’d spend the time hanging around the lodge looking rich and beautiful, always choosing some particular spectacular ski stud to hook up with for the week.

Certainly if Aunt Debbie had told Lily she’d planned on coming to ski this week, Lily would have remembered to take an Advil in advance. “Well, she didn’t. Just give her the best room you can come up with.”

“I will, but, sweetie, you really need to remember these things or ask for help if you need it.”

Lily banged the phone on her forehead. Talking to her sisters was like talking to two particularly impenetrable brick walls.

“Oh, and Gwyneth says an old friend is coming in tonight for a week’s stay with his brand-new Jeep.” There was laughter in Sara’s voice now. “And that you’re not to steal it, as is your habit with Jeeps.”

Instead of banging her head again, Lily tipped her head back and looked at the sky, into the snow falling out of it like angel drops. It’d been ten years since she’d been arrested for stealing a Jeep. “Didn’t you get the bulletin? I don’t steal new Jeeps. Only old ones.”

Sara chortled. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

Lily disconnected. “Aren’t you funny.”

“Older sister?”

Lily tentatively flexed and bounced on her knee, testing. Not good. “Yeah. She hasn’t grasped the fact that I’m no longer a wild child and that stealing Dad’s precious Jeep Laredo to go smoke weed on Mole Hill just doesn’t hold the same appeal.”

Logan laughed and once again pulled off his backpack, unzipping it. “Ah, the fond memories of our stupid youths.”

Impressed that he didn’t ask her a million questions about her past, she watched him kneel in the snow and shift through his pack. “Granted,” she admitted. “I had more stupid moments than most.”

“Because you got caught?” He pulled out an elastic bandage.

“It wasn’t difficult that time. I forgot to set the emergency brake, and when I got out to sit on the cliffs to smoke and watch the moon, the truck rolled down the mountain.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “And now I’m that stupid kid forever, no matter how many years I put between me and my…indiscretions.”

“I take it you’re the baby of the family?”

“Unfortunately.” She eyed him as he came close once again, tossing the bandage up and down in his hand. “And you?”

“The oldest.”

“Ah.” She smiled. “So are you an impossible, cold, hard know-it-all?”

“Undoubtedly.”

Slowly she shook her head. “You might be impossible, and the know-it-all part remains to be seen, but I don’t buy the cold.”

He ignored that and nodded to her leg. “What’s with the knee?”

“See? Cold wouldn’t have even noticed.” She came clean when he didn’t give up an ounce of the intensity. “Ancient injury.”

Crouching before her in the snow, he pulled her Gore-Tex pants up to her thigh while she silently thanked herself for shaving that morning. Then he bent his dark head. His breath danced over her skin. With his index finger, he traced the six-inch scar that rounded her kneecap in a half circle. His finger was warm and callused.

“It’s old,” she said.

“Not that old. Want the wrap?”

What she wanted wrapped was his body around hers, but she wasn’t too stubborn to admit the bandage would give her the support she needed to get down the hill. “Please.”

Tipping his face up, he smiled at her in a way that suggested he knew accepting help from anyone went against the grain. Still holding her gaze, he tugged his gloves off with his teeth, an oddly erotic thing all in itself. Then he peeled her ski sock down.

She hissed.

He went still. “Hurt?”

“Your hands are cold.”

He flashed a grin. “Suck it up.” With efficiency, he wrapped her knee, then pulled her sock back up and her pant leg down over her boot. “You should soak it when we get back. Do employees get to use the hot tub?”

“Actually…” She stared down at him, into those amazing eyes. It was unusual, and it made no sense, but she wanted him to know the truth. She wanted him to know her. “I’m not quite an employee.”

He straightened, standing a good head taller than her. “No?”

“No. I, um…” She smiled wryly. “I own the resort. Inherited it, actually.”

He didn’t even blink. “So I’m taking it you get access to the hot tub.”

She stared at him, then laughed. Still no ridiculously invasive questions, not a single joke, none of the usual stuff that always so completely and totally irritated her when she revealed that she, a twenty-five-year-old punk, owned a ski resort.

“Can you board down with your knee?” he asked.

As her other option was lying in a litter while a pair of her patrollers took her down the mountain, she nodded. Though she went slower this time, he didn’t try to pass her or continue their race. Instead, he followed, presumably to help her if she needed it. And though she’d skied with plenty of men she’d planned on sleeping with over the years, she’d never felt so…aware of one as she was of Logan.