*/*

SLIPPERY SLOPE

4 INTRODUCTIONS

/BPOV\

"So much for my anti-fog goggles," I lament crossly, freeing my vision and situating the useless piece of murky plastic outside my hat. "Don't these people have any standards? I was completely blind!"

"Actually," he answers my rhetorical rant while lifting his own goggles, "they absolutely have a standard of workmanship to which they're bound and if the product is defective, they can be held liable. If you'd been hurt…"

His lips are moving and the rich tone of his voice meets my consciousness, but I don't register much of what he's saying. Despite my precarious predicament, I'm not so dazed that I fail to notice the most alluring set of deep, warm, green eyes I've ever had the pleasure of gazing into at close range.

"Jesus, listen to me," he shakes his head in apology. "You have a near-death experience and I'm delivering a lecture on product liability law. Forgive me?"

He seems to be waiting for some kind of answer, and I'm woefully underprepared. Who? What? How? I play the bewildered victim and offer a lame, "I'm sorry, my brain hasn't quite caught up with my skis."

He grins broadly and responds, "No worries. You're probably in shock."

Yes, handsome man who just saved my life, I am most definitely in shock. "God, I'm so rude. I haven't even thanked you yet! Thank you…" I fish shamelessly for his name. I am so lame at this. My inner Alice clucks her tongue and shakes her head in disapproval.

"Edward," he supplies, extending his gloved hand.

The oddity of our meeting strikes me at once. We're two complete strangers, having recently and spectacularly collided, now perched together perilously at the edge of an icy ski trail. I reach for his hand, forgetting momentarily that shifting my weight downhill will set my skis sliding forward. Luckily, he grasps not only my offered hand, but also the rest of my arm, steadying me once again.

"Hey, easy there. No sudden moves, okay…? Sorry, what did you say your name is?"

"I didn't," I answer, righting myself again. I fight off a fleeting desire to just allow myself to fall right into this mysterious man, come what may. He's still supporting my weight and his eyes are questioning. Crap, where were we...? Names! "Bella," I finally add, causing those emerald half-moons to sparkle and crinkle at the edges.

"Nice to meet you, Bella," he smiles. My heart beats an extra thump upon hearing my name cross his lips.

*/*

|EPOV|

"The pleasure is all mine," she grins, revealing a perfect smile behind her delicate but bluish lips.

Sidetracked by her soft, grateful brown eyes and forthright manner, I am on the verge of breaking one of the prime directives of ski rescue: get the victim to safety. She's only momentarily out of danger; the problem remains, how will I get the two of us down this mountain?

As if reading my mind, she glances over my shoulder warily and asks, "Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but do you have any sort of plan here?"

"I'm working on it," I answer honestly. "Ski patrol should be waiting for us at the chair lift, just in case," I say with a cringe, not wanting to scare her with the reality of the danger she still faces. "I can flag someone down and ask them to send patrol up here with a stretcher for you, but I have to be real honest. It's treacherous transporting someone down that way on a slope this steep, this busy, and this bumpy." Let's not even mention the ice that's rapidly forming as the afternoon sun hits the surface of the newly fallen snow.

Her hopes of an easy trip down having just been dashed, she comments grimly, "Unfortunately, you sound as if you know what you're talking about."

I nod, "Four years' worth in college and occasional weekends out here since then." Largely due to Emmett's position as Director of the Ski Academy, I've been able to enjoy a unique working relationship with management. Though it's been a couple years since I've actually been able to give up an entire weekend of work and take advantage of our arrangement.

"So you're not just some random guy who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"No," I chuckle. "I actually ran into you on purpose. I saw you from the lift, and I could see you were headed for trouble."

"Story of my life," she mumbles. "So, you just thought, 'Heck, I may as well throw myself in front of the out-of-control projectile'?"

"Something like that," I grin. "But I'd like to think it was a bit more scientific."

"Huh, seems more insane than scientific to me, but you certainly won't find me complaining. Well, Mr. Off-duty Ski Patrolman, what's Plan B?"

I flinch as I deliver the bad news, "You're standing on 'em."

"Shit! I was afraid you were going to say that."

I attempt to maintain an air of confidence I certainly don't feel about our prospects. "I haven't lost a skier yet."

"Yeah, well, have you ever had one as lame as me before? First day ever on skis, lost on a double black diamond?"

"So it really is your first day?" How about reining in the incredulousness, asshole? That is a conversation for another time. "You are a bit of a challenge, Bella," I admit. "But not a challenge I can't meet." I smile in what I hope is encouragement.

"You're honestly suggesting I ski down this slope?"

"I'll be right in front of you the whole time."

"Yeah, that's what the last guy said," she retorts.

Ouch. There's a guy. I hadn't gotten that far in my thinking, but apparently, my heart had already taken a bit of a leap all on its own. Sometimes that rusty old organ still surprises me!

"Well, Bella, I'm not the last guy."

"I can see that," she comments mysteriously.

"If you trust me, and follow my directions, I will get the two of us down the mountain in one piece…well, in two separate pieces…you know what I mean," I fumble awkwardly.

She blows out a huge exhale and comes to a decision. "I'll give it my best shot," she promises.

"That's what I need to hear."