Free Fall Read online

  Mouth still wet, she stared up at him, her eyes soft and aroused and touchingly unsure, as if she, too, knew that this was different—and far more terrifying because of it. Then the expression was gone and her cocky grin flashed. “Thanks for the help today, ace. It’s always nice to work with another adrenaline junkie. You ever want to change locations, you’re hired.”

  His heart was still threatening to burst out of his chest but he managed to answer. “I’m not an adrenaline junkie.”

  That made her laugh. “Anyone who willingly throws himself into a situation like you have—twice—is an adrenaline junkie.” She smoothed her fingers over his jaw with a smile. “Don’t look so unsettled. You should know, we can’t help ourselves.” Leaning in, she bit his lower lip. “I gotta go.”

  The snow felt cold on his hot skin. “Your knee—”

  “Feels better already. Have fun tonight.”

  And then she was gone.

  LOGAN SKIED HARD THE NEXT day, wanting to clear his mind. The day before had been interesting, educational and, to say the least, intriguing, and he had a whole new appreciation for what someone like Lily did for a living.

  He also had a whole new appreciation for the woman herself. Curvy, small as hell and with guts to boot—he couldn’t get her out of his mind. The wild kiss hadn’t helped. She’d thrown herself into that, too, as she apparently threw herself into everything.

  Did she have any idea how incredibly arousing that was? Since he hadn’t seen her once since, he had no idea but he suspected she’d felt it, as well, and had backed away from both that and him. He didn’t miss the irony of that—a woman unnerved by nothing being unnerved by his kiss.

  By the time late afternoon settled in, it looked more like twilight, with the sun behind the clouds. Snow drifted down, reflecting off the already white mountain. Around him the landscape took on a surreal feeling, almost as if he was standing on a movie set where everything had been painted white, with low lights added to make it all glow. It was also incredibly quiet, eerily so, because the snow hit with no sound at all, muffling all the other normal noises.

  In that oddly beautiful winter wonderland, Logan skied to the lodge steps and removed his skis. For the second night in a row, he had absolutely nothing ahead of him to do, no one waiting on him, no paperwork, nothing. He could hardly wrap his mind around that.

  He took the time to admire his surroundings. He loved the look of the lodge, a two-story sprawling cabin-style building wrapped in dark wood siding above a brick base, with at least one large outdoor patio off the east side. The myriad of windows were all trimmed in white with open shutters, giving the lodge a gingerbread-house kind of charm and personality. As he walked up the steps and under the hanging Bay Moon sign, stomping the snow off his boots, the doors opened and several skiers spilled out. So did the scent of all sorts of foods from the cafeteria, and his stomach growled, reminding him he’d skipped lunch. He stepped inside.

  Off to the right and down a wide stone staircase was a wing of guest rooms. Straight ahead lay the wide, open common room, and to the left, another hallway, where he could head into the cafeteria, the bar or the ski rental shop.

  In the common room, a wide variety of people sat around the crackling flames contained in the huge stone fireplace. Several of the loungers were of the hot-ski-bunny variety that Wyatt had figured he’d be spending time enjoying.

  The whole SAR team had spent the past few weeks razzing Logan about this trip, taking bets on how many women he could meet and if—when—any of them would stick.

  He could have told them when.

  Never.

  In his world, love didn’t stick at all, not when pitted against such a demanding lifestyle. His mother hadn’t stuck with his father’s nomadic military way of life, and had left her three young children early on. Many of his friends had been through women like cheap wine, and several were on second or third marriages. Any relationships Logan himself had attempted self-destructed when he’d proven he loved his job more than any significant other in his life.

  He looked over the women in front of the fire, several of whom looked him over right back. A particularly tall, beautiful brunette smiled slowly at him, her eyes eating him up.

  A ski bunny, just what Wyatt had ordered. He waited for a reaction within him, even a little trickle of curiosity, but the woman stuck on his mind was smaller, lighter, tough as nails, yet soft as silk.

  And he could still taste her kiss.

  With an apologetic smile, he headed for the locker room, where he put his skis away for the night. On the bench opposite his locker sat another woman, late thirties, shiny blond hair, perfect makeup, fancy diamonds dangling off her ears. She wore tight black ski pants and an even tighter sunshine-yellow V-neck sweater that screamed “woman on the prowl.”

  “Do you work here?” she asked in a soft, husky voice, running her fingers over her deep-plunging neckline.

  “No.” Logan stifled his impatience with the ritual flirtation dance and wondered what the hell his problem was. He sat on the bench to remove his ski boots. “Just visiting.”

  “Oh. Me, too. Actually, I own the place.”

  “Really?” He dropped one boot into the locker. “Because I met another owner yesterday on the slopes.”

  “Lily Rose.” The woman laughed. “My niece. She owns a bigger piece than me. Which means she has to do all the work while I get to come and go as I please.” She smiled. “Are you having a nice time?”

  He didn’t have to think about it, which surprised him. “Very.”

  “The snow is so amazing here, isn’t it? I’m used to skiing back east on ice. This place spoils me.”

  Making an agreeing noise, he removed his other boot.

  “Tomorrow is supposed to be gorgeous. Sun and fun on the Sierras.”

  He put that boot on the floor of the locker, as well, and smiled absently.

  “Wow. You have a great smile.” She thrust out a hand. “I’m Debbie, by the way.”

  “Logan.” He shook the hand she offered and looked into her hungry eyes…still nothing.

  “I hope I see you around, Logan. Maybe in the bar, or the hot tub…” With a last, very direct smile, she patted his shoulder and sashayed out of the locker area.

  Logan sighed at himself and headed down the stone staircase toward his room. He figured he’d take a shower and then go eat. And then take the evening from there.

  His room was small but as warm and inviting as the rest of the resort. The walls, painted a soft buttery color, featured framed photographs of the Tahoe area from the late 1800s and early 1900s. The mismatched antique dresser and chair seemed like a perfect fit for the four-poster bed and its patchwork quilt.

  He stripped out of his ski gear and took a long, hot shower, letting the water beat on his back while his mind wandered…right to Lily.

  Unlike Logan, she didn’t have a week off. She wasn’t suddenly…lonely. Damn it. He got dressed and went back upstairs, determined to mingle. To be excited at the prospect of being on his own again. Eating alone in the cafeteria, smiling at strangers, suddenly held little appeal, however, so he headed into the bar, thinking a beer might settle this odd restlessness.

  The bar was done up like an old western saloon, complete with swinging double wood doors, bar stools made from saddles and tables that were shellacked wooden telephone spindles turned on their ends. The place was nearly full, and laughter and talk rang out in pleasant tones as he walked in.

  At home, he and the members of his team often met at Moody’s after an incredibly tough shift, needing to unwind. Logan could walk into that bar any day of the week and come across friends to hang out with. He hadn’t gotten that same level of intimacy last night when he’d wandered through here; this bar had a different energy altogether. It was edgier, louder—more about fun—but still a welcoming place.

  Moving through the crowd, he took a seat on a bar stool. There were two women bartending, both with their backs to him. The closest one w