Free Fall by Jill Shalvis

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 staircasewas 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.”
    â€œDo you work here?” she asked in a soft, husky voice, running her fingers over her deep-plunging neckline.
    â€œNo.” 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.”
    â€œOh. Me, too. Actually, I own the place.”
    â€œReally?” He dropped one boot into the locker. “Because I met another owner yesterday on the slopes.”
    â€œLily 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.”
    â€œThe 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.
    â€œTomorrow is supposed to be gorgeous. Sun and fun on the Sierras.”
    He put that boot on the floor of the