Only because he had a radio at his hip with a direct connection to command central, and an entire team of ski patrol who could look up at the board in the main office and see exactly where he was. But then her words sank in and he stilled. “Are you telling me that you’re on Devil’s Face, the most challenging run on this mountain, by accident because you misread the ski map?” he asked, doing what he thought was a damned fine job of holding back his incredulous disbelief.

She bit her lip, ineffectually trying to hold back another smile, which didn’t matter because her expressive eyes gave her away. “I realize my answer’s going to make me look bad,” she said, “but yes.” She nodded. “Yes, I’m here because I misread the map. I had it upside down.”

“This run is a double diamond expert,” he said. “You’re risking your life up here,” he added, trying really hard not to sound like a judgmental asshole, but seriously? How many clueless people had he rescued this week alone?

“Well, I’ve taken lessons. Three of them. Breckenridge,” she said.

Three. Jesus. “How long ago?”

She bit her lower lip. “Um, a few years. Or ten. I thought it was like getting on a bike,” she said to his groan of frustration. “I visualized it and—”

He wondered if she’d visualized the hospital bills.

“If it helps,” she said, “I realized my mistake right away and was just taking in the view. Because just look at it …” She gestured to the gorgeous scenery in front of her, the stuff of postcards and wishes and dreams. “It’s mindboggling.”

The wonder in her gaze mesmerized him and he found himself softening toward her more than a little. A little surprised at himself, he turned to take in the view with her, trying to see it through her eyes: the towering peaks that had a way of putting things into perspective and reminding you that you weren’t the biggest and baddest, the blanket of fresh snow for as far the eye could see, glistening wherever the sun hit it like it was dusted with diamonds.

He tried never to take it for granted but he did. It was interesting that it’d taken a little waif of a woman who shouldn’t even be here to shake him out of his routine and make him notice his surroundings.

“Anyway,” she went on. “I was figuring after I got my fill, I’d just head back to the ski lift and ask if I could ride it down. No harm, no foul.”

He couldn’t help being curious about her. Or maybe mystified was a better word. He wanted to know her story. “I’ll get you back to the lift,” he said.