Free Fall Read online

  “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