Jill Shalvis - Free Fall

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 rub?"

"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.

The slopes were filled with skiers heading down to the lodge on their last run of the day as the sun began to sink. Halfway back, her walkie-talkie chirped again. It was Chris this time, with a new emergency on the east side. A boarder had fallen out-of-bounds. He was uninjured but unable to climb back up the sheer rock to safety.

"Just shoot me now," Lily muttered, then lifted an apologetic gaze to Logan. "Fun's over. Again. I have patrollers on their way, but I'm going over to help."

"Whoever you were talking to sounded worried." "It's going to be a little tricky getting him back up. It's getting dark. And where he went over is sheer rock, covered in two months' worth of ice, topped with some powder."

"Avalanche waiting to happen."

"You got it," she said grimly. "There are signs making it out-of-bounds for exactly that reason."

"Maybe I can help."

"No."

"I have ten years' climbing experience."

She let out a breath. He'd fixed her binding. With duct tape. He'd wrapped her knee when most wouldn't have even known she'd been hurt. Mr. Safety and Security, she'd give him that, and yet he willingly threw himself into any risk.

Damn if that wasn't unbearably sexy all by itself. "All right, fine. You're hired. Let's go, ace."

"Okay, Lily Rose."

She arched a brow. "Use my middle name again and you'll be the one left out-of-bounds."

His laughter rang out in the snow-filled air and made her smile.

Logan watched Lily's petite form glide down the steep incline in the snow, doing so far more purposefully and carefully than she had earlier. He wondered just how badly she'd hurt herself.

He could hear Wyatt now… You can take the man out of the SAR team but you can't take the SAR team out of the man.

Yeah, yeah, sue him. After a lifetime of watching after his two younger siblings for his overworked father, and then working search and rescue, taking care of others was nothing but pure instinct for him.

Granted, she was tough as hell and damned upfront and practical to boot, and could undoubtedly take care of herself-but that didn't stop him from wanting to make sure.

And then there was the searing heat that shot back and forth between them like a Ping-Pong ball with every glance, every word. She might not be the drop-dead beautiful ski bunny Wyatt had had in mind for him, but she had a secret sort of try-me smile and a way about her that was far more sensual than any woman he'd been with in a long time.

They got to the lift they needed to take and headed back up again. In less than ten minutes they were standing at the lip of another dizzy drop-off where their skier had fallen, with four other patrollers who were dealing with the victim's freaked-out friends, all of whom were eventually convinced to go wait at the lodge. The patrollers had already determined that their victim, down the precipice about forty feet, wasn't hurt. Now they were trying to figure out where the out-of-bounds signs had gone.

"Just this morning, three of them were spread right here across the cliff," Lily said, baffled.

"They're gone now." One of the patrollers scratched his head. "Hard to blame the guy for getting into trouble when he didn't know he was heading into it."

"Oh, no. No excuses. Anyone in his right mind would know to stay off this cliff." Lily shook her head. "But still, this looks bad."

"Some stupid punk prank," Chris said, setting up a strobe light to help them see in the growing dark. "Someone thought they were funny."

"What do you think?" Lily asked. "Take him down from there, or back up on a rope?"

"Either way," Chris said, "it's going to be a tricky rescue."

They knew what they were doing, Logan told himself as he stood there silently, but he itched to pitch in and help.

Another call came over the radio. Seemed the identical-twin troublemakers hadn't followed Lily's directions and were now fighting on the front lodge steps. Adding to the problem was the crowd of their buddies hooting and hollering and urging them on, and an increasingly aggressive crowd.

Looking royally pissed, Lily nodded for three of the crew to go down and handle it, leaving just her and Chris. The snow kept coming down, plus it wouldn't be long before they'd need the lights-daylight was fading fast, already impeding vision. "I'll go after this idiot," she said, resigned.