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He gave himself a mental palm to the head. Of course. She had to be a ski instructor as well. No wonder she’d helped him up and made sure he got down the hill. It also explained why the other guy had told her to clear him off the slope.
What it didn’t explain was why the man was now staring at them.
Best to settle this right here and now, in case this was a pity drink. Surely he didn’t look that badly off. He’d have to work on his cheerful see-ya-later grin. “You don’t have to sit with me. I’m fine, really.”
She frowned. “Never thought you weren’t. I’m sitting here because I’m cold and tired and wanted some hot chocolate.”
“I didn’t see you up at the top when I was having my lesson.”
“That’s because I wasn’t there. I was skiing one of the harder slopes. I decided to finish up on the bunny. As a cool down.”
Cool down. No wonder she was in such great shape. And she was. He might deny it until he was blue in the face, but he’d glanced at her a time or two. Enough to know that her slender legs were strong. So were her arms. If he’d met her anywhere else, he might think she was a distance runner. But she wasn’t. She was a skier.
“I bet you have to rescue lots of guys like me.” The second the words were out of his mouth he wished he could retract them. He hadn’t needed rescuing. Not on the slopes, and certainly not anywhere else, despite what his coach might think.
He could have handled things himself, given a little more time.
Yeah? Like he’d handled those dreams? Popping sleeping pills like they were candy was not the best prescription—as he’d soon discovered. The good thing was he’d almost weaned himself from them. The nightmares were back, but maybe they were just something he’d have to live with. Like his guilt.
“Not too many rescues. Just the occasional stray.”
She picked up her chocolate and took a long sip. “Ah. Just what I needed. Something to keep me warm and happy.” Before he could dwell too long on those words, she continued. “So where are you from?”
Four years ago that would have been an easy question to answer. He would have asked whether she meant originally or at the moment. As it was, he wasn’t sure of his actual location. Halfway between anger and grief, if he had to guess, a place he’d been stuck at for far too long. “California, originally, but I live in Texas now. And you?”
“Silver Pass. Born and raised right here on the mountain.” She raised her mug and took another drink.
So why didn’t she seem thrilled to live in a gorgeous place like this? He took a gulp of his own hot chocolate and then sputtered when an unexpected burn slid down his throat.
“Hot?” She gave him a grin that could only be described as mischievous.
“No. Spiked.” His brows drew together. “How do you know I’m not an alcoholic?”
“Are you?”
He could have been, but a couple of years ago he’d realized drinking was not only not helping him but it could get someone hurt. His team relied on him to make good decisions. One wrong move and a career could be finished forever. Much like his had almost been.
It’s why he’d agreed with the coach about this vacation spot. The cold climate kind of fostered isolation. At least in his head it did. With all that gear on, it wasn’t very easy to talk to strangers. It wasn’t the same as lying on a beach or surfing. Because the waves always carried you back in to shore. With skiing, you could simply race away from strangers who were a little too anxious to start a conversation.
Like this one?
“No, I’m not an alcoholic,” he admitted, although the steamy brew slid down his throat in a way that was a little too comforting. He took one more long pull and then set it aside. He wasn’t going to switch one habit for another.
Miranda studied him for a few seconds. She started to say something then the instructor who’d been watching her from across the room appeared beside the table. “You headed back for the slopes, Mira? If so, I’ll ride up the lift with you.”
The guy pointedly ignored Jack, which was fine. He had no intention of stepping in between these two.
“I think I’ll go back to my room and read instead. And I can catch up on some reports, while I’m there.” The chill in her voice was unmistakable.
“Mira—”
She held up her hand. “I’d rather not do this right now.”
The man’s lips thinned. “You can’t avoid me forever, you know. We both live here. Eventually, we’re going to have to sit down and talk.”
Jack’s glance went to where her left hand gripped her mug. No ring. But there was a definite indentation there.
That’s why he’d been staring at her. These two had been involved at some point. Married? An affair, maybe?
Whatever it was, it was none of his business. In fact, maybe it was time for him to take his pity party somewhere else and let these two go at it in private.
Mira beat him to it, standing up, her chin angled at a dangerous height. “I don’t see what we have to talk about.”
“How happy do you think your father is going to be once he hears about all this?”
She gave a hard smile. “You’re right, Robert. I imagine he won’t be very happy at all.”
Jack was surprised to see the other man’s face drain of color.
So that’s how it was. The jerk had done something. Something bad enough to make her want to avoid any contact with him. A dark thought came over him.
When the guy reached out to take hold of her arm Jack rose to his feet, no longer trying to remain impassive. He held the man’s gaze for ten long seconds before “Robert” backed down.
“I’ll catch you later,” he said to Mira.
“Don’t think so. Let’s just stick to our own sides of the slopes.”
With an irritated roll of his shoulders the man spun away from them and stalked toward the nearest exit.
Mira dropped back into her seat. “Well, it looks like we’re even. I rescued you. You rescued me. Thanks.” She sighed. “Sorry you had to witness that, though.”
“No problem. Ex …” He had no idea why he gave that leading sentence.
“Fiancé. But that’s neither here nor there.” She pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t go up on that slope again without another lesson or two. Next time you could really get hurt.”
If she was worried about her ex pulling something, she needn’t bother. He could take care of himself. “I’ll do that.”
She must have sensed he was just handing her a line. “No, I’m serious. Robert’s not going to be a happy camper, so I wouldn’t count on him playing nice.” She eyed him. “I could give you some pointers if you want. Make sure you stay out of trouble.”
That was pretty much impossible. He’d stayed in trouble in one form or another for the last four years. Maybe he should have asked for the beachfront condo vacation despite his earlier thoughts. At least surfing was something he was actually proficient at.
“I don’t want to put you to any trouble. I think I can manage.”
“Like you did today? Come on. I really do want to show my appreciation.”
It was either accept graciously or be a jerk about it. “Did I look that bad out there?”
She laughed. “You want honesty or a gentle lie?”
He found himself smiling back. “Hmm … I’d take the lie, but I think it’s already too late for that. Okay, I’ll accept the pointers, but I don’t guarantee I’ll show much improvement. I’m a beachside kind of guy.”
“So you’re better on the surf than on the turf?”
His smile grew. “No, the turf I can handle. It’s cold, slippery surfaces that I struggle with.”
“Interesting. So, are we on?”
Why did that seem like a loaded question all of a sudden? But unless he wanted to make a big deal out of what was probably an innocent offer, it was better to let it slide on by. “Yep.”
“Great!” She paused to wave at someone across the room. A blonde grinned and held up five fingers.
Mira nodded.
They must be meeting up in a few minutes or something. That was his cue to leave. “What time were you thinking tomorrow?”
“Does tennish work for you?”
“Sounds perfect.” He stood. “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”
“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With one last smile she picked up her cup and headed over to where the other woman was standing. And heaven help him if he didn’t watch her hips bump and sway for a couple of beats before forcing himself to turn away.
It’s not a date. She hadn’t even used that word.
Why he needed to explain that to himself he had no idea. All he knew was that his heart rate had just kicked up a notch and a zing of anticipation was edging through his veins, picking up momentum as it went.
This could be bad.
Very, very bad.
Unless he nipped it in the bud right here. Right now.
The only question … was how.
“Where did you get your goggles?”
Mira peered into her patient’s red, streaming eyes as he sat on the exam table in her tiny clinic. Around twenty-two years old, he was here for a week with several buddies. Yesterday evening, after coming off the slopes, his eyes had begun burning. When he’d looked into the mirror that morning, he’d been shocked to see his lids were swollen and his eyes looked terrible.
“I picked up all my gear at a second-hand store right before coming. It was a bargain.”
And like any other bargain, sometimes you paid the price later on. Mira had found that out the hard way when it came to relationships.
She clicked off her penlight and leaned back to check out the eyewear lying beside him. They had the customary reflective surface, but there were no markings that indicated the UV protection the lenses offered. “Your goggles and skis are two pieces of equipment you really shouldn’t skimp on. This is why.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever hear of snow blindness?”
Her patient scrubbed moisture from his cheeks. “Snow blindness. Doesn’t that only happen to people who are stranded in the snow?”
“Nope. I see it fairly often up here. It’s basically a sunburn of your corneas.”
He blinked, squinting one eye to look at her. “Can you treat it?”
Swiveling around to her desk, she pulled her prescription pad forward and started writing. “I’m going to give you a prescription for some eyedrops, but you need to stay off the slopes for the next couple of days. Believe me, your eyes aren’t going to want to face any light, much less what you’ll find up there on the mountain.”
“But we’re only here for a week.”
She felt for him, really she did. “I know. I wish there were a quick treatment, but it’s just like any other sunburn. You have to stay out of the sun for a while.” She glanced up. “Oh, and make sure you see an eye doctor when you get home.”
The man swore a couple of times before finally nodding and taking the slip of paper. He then took his goggles and dumped them in the trash. “I guess I won’t be needing those any more.”
She smiled. “We have some regulation eyewear at the rental kiosk. Make sure your friends are covered, so they don’t wind up in the same boat.”
“I will. Thanks, Doc.”
“You’re welcome.”
Once he left, she locked up the clinic and headed up the mountain to meet Jack. It was still a little early, but she wanted to make sure she arrived before he did so she could prepare herself.
Man number five.
Okay, so the guy was cuter than the other men she’d met for drinks or a quick trip down the slopes. In fact, she’d been with one such guy yesterday on the advanced slopes. She had finished on the bunny slope in order to cool down—like she’d told Jack—but only because guy number four had seemed to have hands that never stopped finding excuses to touch her in little ways. Add him to the guy she’d been with two nights ago, and she began to wonder about the wisdom of her resolution. How did serial daters go about avoiding the creeps … and worse?
She needed to be a little more careful about picking these guys. She certainly didn’t want to get in over her head. Ellory had forced her to put her cellphone number on speed dial, so Mira could reach out with the touch of a button in case she got into trouble.
She didn’t plan on that happening. So far it had just been the two weirdos. Of course, since she’d only been out with four guys in all over the last several weeks, that wasn’t much of a track record.
And what about Jack? She’d never been out with a surfer dude before. Although the serious guy who’d sat across from her at the table yesterday did not match her image of a California beach bum.
Just look at the way he’d stood up to Robert.
Yeah, that had been a little heady. She hoped seeing her with Jack had drilled it into her ex’s brain that she was moving on—whether it was true or not. Robert had blown it. She’d learned the hard way not to give people second chances.
That included him, and it included her father.
This might be her dad’s resort, and he technically might be her boss, but that didn’t mean she was going to fall all over him. He’d hurt her mother badly. And even though her mom had been the one to convince her to come back to the lodge and work after she graduated from medical school, she didn’t forgive him for his transgressions any more than she’d forgive Robert or her two other exes.
It was exactly why she’d sworn off men. And if she could just get past man number five and move on to the next guy, she’d officially win her bet with Ellory.
Should be a snap.
She leaned on the rail and surveyed the line of chairs on the ski lift.
Speaking of bets, she spied Jack about halfway up the mountain. His safety bar had not been pulled down, making her frown. She’d have to add that to the lesson.
She sucked down a deep breath as he drew closer. She’d just about convinced herself that he wasn’t as good looking as she’d thought he was yesterday. But he was. Even from this distance. With streaky brown hair that was in need of a cut and those broad shoulders, he pretty much filled the chair. She’d have to tuck herself under his arm to fit on there with him if they ever rode up together.
The image made her swallow. Silly. You’re here to teach him to ski and put a notch in your … Hmm, what should she notch, since she had no intentions of sleeping with him or any other of her dates?
Her skis, that’s what. Okay, so he’d be one more notch in her skis.
He slid off the chair with lithe grace that had been lacking yesterday when he’d smacked the ground and slid to a halt. How that must have cost him in the ego department. Except he just stood there.
“Slide over here.”
He glanced over and saw her then eased down the hill to meet her, a little less shaky than he’d been yesterday.
She had a feeling he’d be a quick study when it came to skiing. Well, whether he was or wasn’t, it didn’t matter. This would be his one and only lesson with her—a favor for saving her from Robert’s pestering. Tomorrow he’d be on his own.
“Hi.” He pulled a hat down over his head, juggling his poles as he did so.
At least he’d remembered to put his skis on before getting on the lift. She checked out his eyewear, nodding at the item in his hand. “Did you get those here at the resort?”
He glanced down at them. “Yes, why?”
“Just wondering. Don’t want you to get snow blindness.”
His brows went up, but he didn’t question her comment.
“You ready?” she asked.
“I have to admit I thought about standing you up.”
Interesting. He had seemed a little skittish at the bar yesterday.
“Yeah? Well, I’d have had to come and track you down.” Ellory had spied Jack from across the room yesterday after her encounter with Robert and claimed that this time she was going down hard. This one was just too yummy for her to resist.
Oh, she could resist him all right. He was just one more guy. In fact, it was quite liberating to be with a man and know there was no future in it. She didn’t have to worry about whether or not she’d have to watch her words or get all prettied up.
The time she’d spent in front of the mirror this morning had been strictly about personal grooming. She’d do that for anyone. No need to send people scurrying for the nearest exit with her morning rat’s nest and dark undereye circles. And her lips were chapped from the cold, so of course she’d had to put on something to soothe and protect them. The fact that it had a little dab of shine was just a coincidence.
He smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing I showed up, then.”
“Absolutely.” Luckily, Robert was off this morning, so one of the other instructors was working with a small group of newbies. She could have sent Jack to the class, since her professed reason for meeting him was because her ex might do or say something she would end up feeling badly about. But since she’d told Ellory he was man number five …
Really, who would know she didn’t meet him?
Ellory, for one.
Yeah, and why was that? Because she couldn’t tell a lie worth a damn.
“So, let’s start with your skis. You got them on, but it’ll help if you know how to click in and out of them quickly.”
She gave him a quick lesson on doing just that. Once they were back on, she had him face the bottom of the hill, but with the fronts of his skis pointed toward each other.
“I’m sure Robert showed you, but once you start out, you’re going to want to stay like this. Think of it like a wedge of pizza, only made with skis instead of food. If you keep your skis completely parallel to each other, you’ll pick up too much speed, as you found out yesterday. So wedge them just a bit until you get the feel of your angle and speed.” She pulled her goggles down over her eyes. “Let’s do a practice run. I’ll go first and you follow me down, trying to imitate my movements.”
He muttered something that she couldn’t quite catch before she used her poles to push off. A hard swish behind her said that he’d done the same thing. She concentrated on going as slowly as possible, not an easy task when you were used to zipping down difficult slopes at top speed. Her father had had big plans for her after she’d won several competitions, plans she’d thwarted when she’d decided to become a doctor. What father in his right mind was disappointed when his child decided to become something other than a professional athlete?
Hers.
Then again, he’d disappointed her as well.
She’d changed courses right after her parents had divorced, and, yes, maybe it had been partly to get back at him. But she loved being a doctor, even more than she loved the slopes and the snow. Jack had talked about surfing. The ocean didn’t appeal to her at all. She was a mountain girl through and through. She didn’t think she even owned a bikini other than the underwear kind.
Jack came up beside her, showing a pretty good sense of balance. And every time she changed the angle of her wedge, he imitated her. Out of nowhere came the thought that it might be worth a trip to the ocean just to see him up on a surf board, that streaky hair of his catching rays of sunlight.
He hit a mogul and wavered for a second or two, the tips of his skis wiggling back and forth, but he caught himself. His speed increased fractionally and Mira let off her brake and matched him. “Good job!”
His face was a mask of concentration, so she wasn’t even sure whether he’d heard her or not. At that moment someone passed them on the left at a much quicker pace—which wasn’t all that difficult, considering she and Jack were creeping along.
Two more people went by.
Mira was concentrating so much on the man beside her that she almost missed the screams from the pair of teens who’d just passed them. They’d gotten too close, and the left ski of the girl closest to them had overlapped the other girl’s. Both were struggling to remain upright.
“Move away from each other!” Her training kicked in, knowing if they didn’t get their skis apart one or both of them would fall.
They either didn’t hear her or were too panicked to do what she said, because they were still tangled. Then one of the girls shoved the other one, maybe to try to push off her and get away. Instead of working, the girl who’d been shoved careened sideways, taking her friend with her. They fell down hard, landing in a heap in the middle of the slope. The girl who’d pushed the other one sat up laughing, but her giggles soon faded when she saw the other teenager lay still in the snow.
Every muscle in Mira’s body went on high alert as she drew closer and saw the girl’s right arm sticking out at an odd angle.
The uninjured teen must have seen it as well, because she suddenly leaned back and gave out an unearthly shriek.
CHAPTER THREE
“YOU GO DOWN the hill,” Mira said. “I need to stay here.”
“I can help.”
“Just do as I say.” Her tone was a little more impatient this time.
He didn’t care. “No can do. I’m a doctor.”
Mira gave him a sharp look. “Yeah, well, so am I. I’m the concierge doctor for the lodge.”
His heart stalled for a second, and he stared, fumbling a bit as he tried to remain upright. “I thought you were a ski instructor.”
“Pizza it, Jack, if you want to stop.”
He forced his mind back to what she was saying, using his skis to form a barricade and coming to a halt beside the still-screaming girl.
“What’s your specialty?” She nudged him aside so she could get to their patients, sinking to her knees in the snow to look at the unconscious teen. She laid a hand on the panicked girl’s shoulder, and like magic she quieted.
He was still struggling to process the fact that he was up on the slopes with a doctor, of all things. “I’m in sports medicine.”
Mira’s eyes widened when he mentioned the name of the team.
“The Hawks? Are you kidding me?” She gave him another quick glance. “What are you doing skiing, then? Isn’t this your busiest time of year?”
No way was he going to tell her he’d been sent off to recuperate. Especially not knowing what he did now. “I’m taking a short break.”
Speaking of breaks, they might have a bad one on their hands here. The teen hadn’t seemed to fall hard enough to do any real damage, at least it hadn’t looked that way, but the human body was a strange animal.
“Let me check her arm.” Carefully unzipping the girl’s jacket enough that he could slide his hand down the limb, he found the fracture immediately. Although the bone wasn’t protruding from her skin—a good thing—it was pressed right against it. A little more force and it would have come through. The edge felt jagged, though, so it could still break through, if they weren’t careful.
The girl was also out cold.
Mira spoke softly to the uninjured girl, while Jack focused on the friend.
“She’s still breathing,” he said. “Can you get her vitals, while I check her head?” He clicked his boots out of his skis, just like Mira had shown him, and then slid around until he was kneeling beside her shoulder.
Mira nodded, pressing her fingers against the girl’s right wrist, while Jack carefully undid the strap to her helmet. He checked it for cracks before running his fingers over her hair, looking for obvious signs of trauma. Her white beanie cap, which had probably been pulled down to hide the unfashionable headgear, lay a short distance away, knocked off by the impact. He couldn’t feel any bumps, but he knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Peeling apart her eyelids one at a time and wishing he had his medical kit, he peered at them to judge pupil size. Equal, and they reacted to light in a way that appeared normal.
Two guys who were evidently with the ski patrol slid to a halt beside them, asking Mira what she had.
“Broken arm at least.” She glanced at Jack.
“No contusions on her head that I can see, but I want to stabilize her neck and back just in case.”
Her friend stifled a sob. “Is she going to be okay? I wasn’t trying to knock her down. I was trying to get my ski loose before I fell. Instead, I made us both fall.”