He chuckled, a lower, deeper rumble than his normal voice. “I’ll take your word for it.”

They shared an almost comfortable moment of silence. Almost. Easton cleared his throat.

“I checked the weather report. Winds are gusting on the mountain until noon tomorrow. It isn’t safe for Ash to fly in there to drop off the supplies until later, and we’re too much weight to all go at the same time. We’ll get a start first thing the day after. You have some time tomorrow if you need to shoot anything else.”

“I think the guys are pretty set,” River admitted. “But I’ll ask them. We would have loved to get some more interviews about the area, but no one wants to talk to us.”

“It’s not personal. When you have so many people rotating in and out of your town, you start to avoid the faces you don’t recognize. We’re nice, but a lot of the resort’s clientele are…”

Easton hesitated.

“Rich, entitled, won’t lift a finger for themselves?” River shrugged. “Yeah, I know the type. I know lots of great people in LA, but once in a while, someone is a real stinker.”

He grimaced. “The first few years after the resort was built, we all tried to embrace the visitors. Welcome them, be helpful. Alaska is a friendly state. But at some point, the town ran out of patience.”

“Aren’t you dependent on tourism? That’s why I’m here, remember? To help increase the amount of tourism in the area.”

“Those are fighting words around here,” he told her, not unkindly but definitely not joking. “Do you know how many times I was asked for directions last year? Four hundred and thirty-two. The town had a contest, and I came in second.”

“I can’t believe people were brave enough to approach you that many times.” After some quick math in her head, River’s jaw dropped. “That’s one point two times a day all year long. Who won?”

“Jonah, poor guy.”

“I’m having a hard time feeling too sorry for him.”

Easton’s low laugh was comfortable as it filled the air around her. Scooting her chair closer to him was too easy. River leaned in to look at the notebook next to his maps. He’d marked down a list of the days they would be gone, with some numbers next to it.

“Negative forty?” she asked. “In July?”

“That’s the range, but most days won’t get that cold. A lot depends on the windchill.” Easton tapped a thumb against the notebook. “The sooner we start up, the more days we have in case something goes wrong.”

Glancing at him, River asked, “Do you expect there to be problems?”

“No, but I try to prepare for them if I can.”

That would have to be good enough. River had never been on a guided climb before, only outings with friends or alone, so she had to trust he knew what he was doing. Still, her need to understand everything made her steal the next in his pile of maps.

“Okay, so what am I looking at here?” Waggling her eyebrows at him, River added, “An X usually marks the treasure.”

“In this case, X marks where Ash is kicking us all out of her helicopter. You want to film the best parts of Mount Veil, right? We need to start here, low of the south face of the mountain. We’ll be below ten thousand feet here, but don’t be fooled. That’s some rough country.”

“Grizzly country?”

His eyes met hers. “We’re in Alaska. You’re going to have a hard time staying away from the wildlife. But I’d worry more about the moose. They kill more people here than bears or wolves ever do.”

“Wolves.” River took a deep breath. “Okay, I can handle this.”

“I’m not planning on letting anything eat you,” Easton said. “It’s harder to get paid that way.”

She flashed him a quick grin. “Half up front, half when I don’t die?”

“All up front, but I get my gratuity if you don’t die.”

“Deal.”

River held out her fist to bump his without considering the effect it would have on them when his skin touched hers. Their eyes met again, and this time, River looked away first in an attempt to cover her reaction to the contact.

Clearing his throat gruffly, Easton ran his finger along the topographic map of Mount Veil. “We’ll climb along this path until we reach the tree line. Once we’re above that, the climb gets tougher. We’ll pass through the Veil—”

“What’s the Veil?”

“You’ll see,” he told her. “It’s not worth ruining the surprise of seeing it for the first time. Descriptions never do it justice anyway. And that’s as far as I can promise to take you. Going through the Veil requires skill, and mistakes there can kill. If all of you are okay through the Veil, then we’ll reevaluate whether we’re going to summit.”

“What do you mean, whether?” River immediately forgot all about sexy rough knuckles and biceps the size of her head. She bristled. “I’m not going on a nature walk here, Easton. I have a job to do, and we’re already pushing things by going outside city limits.”

“River, is there a clause in your contract about payment upon delivery of the film?”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we’ve successfully run out every single film crew that’s ever come here. I understand you have a job to do, but so do I. I’ll help you get your movie made, but not at the expense of your safety.”

“How about this: we’ll summit unless the risk of death or near dismemberment looms above us. If it does, then you’ll turn your head and pretend not to notice me summiting.”

“We’ll figure it out when we get up there,” Easton said firmly. “I’ll try my best.”

“It’s not Denali,” she reminded him.

“This mountain has taken over a dozen lives in the last twenty years. I’d rather not have you and yours on my conscience.”

As he talked, Easton leaned his head to the side, cracking his neck. The action distracted her, pulling her attention to his hair. The man bun taunted her with its very presence. What was under there? More glorious hair? Or something thin, wispy, and frightening to behold?

“The Old Man is isolated. Almost no one climbs it, so there isn’t a tent city, like with Denali. Getting the camps set at higher altitude will be a lot of work.” Easton gave her a suspicious look. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Innocence. Maintain the innocence.

He wasn’t buying it. “You’re craning your head and staring at me, River.”