“You really should.”

As she ducked back into the dining tent, River winked at him over her shoulder. “Hey, Easton. It would have been an amazing kiss. Just so you know.”

This guy was killing her, one sexy chuckle at a time. But when he was serious, it was even worse.

“Trust me,” Easton said huskily. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

• • •

If River’s headache hadn’t responded to the painkillers, Easton would have stayed in place one more day. Acute mountain sickness could strike even lower than where they were at, and even though Easton always made sure to ascend slowly enough for his clients to acclimate to the lower oxygen levels, it was nothing to take lightly. He’d seen his fair share of great climbers taken down unexpectedly. But she wasn’t, so he didn’t.

In fact, once River had gotten a thermos of coffee in her, she’d been full of energy and raring to go. Still, Easton kept one eye on her as they packed up their gear and started off. The Veil was within a day’s hike, but instead of taking them higher in elevation, he decided he wanted to take her somewhere off the direct path. Somewhere worth filming and only slightly higher elevation than their current camp.

He kept telling himself he would have done the same with any other client, but even Easton knew he was lying to himself. River was…different. And until he was certain she was in the clear, Easton wasn’t taking her one step higher on this mountain than he had to.

Ben never called him out on his indirect path, seeming content to follow Jessie and Bree and pause when they wanted something from the extra filming supplies Ben had on his pack. Every time the film crew grew distracted, Easton obliged his clients by stopping so they could shoot, which was constantly. Even though he knew it was killing their progress, every pause gave him the opportunity to evaluate River, to make sure she wasn’t getting another headache or starting to lag behind in pace. But to her credit, the woman was solid as the rock they were standing on.

She never faltered a step.

The marmot had decided to continue accompanying the expedition, and unlike the rest of them, the fresh snow didn’t hinder it. Able to stay on the crust of the snowpack, the marmot scurried along at Easton’s side, pausing every so often to gaze at him with shiny, fervent eyes. Its particular suffocating brand of love should have been annoying, but for some reason, the furball was growing on him.

Cuddling up during a storm tended to do that for a guy and his marmot.

Eventually, they reached the location Easton had intended on taking his clients to, but not without Easton finally having to nudge the film crew along. This was one of his favorite locations on the mountain. The glacier beneath them was starting to crack, like candy coating on an ice cream cone. The result was a far more interesting series of vertical ascents on the ice. Beautiful and more challenging.

He’d really wanted River to see it, hopeful she’d enjoy the challenge too.

True to form, River had thrown herself at the climb exuberantly, and between the two of them, they made short work of the ascent. The others…not so much. In the most technical part of the day’s climb by far, River’s natural abilities not only shone through but resulted in them cresting the top of this rockface far before the others. The chance to sit alone with her was nice, but even the marmot was starting to look bored.

“I should have scheduled an extra week for this.” Easton looked down the mountain at Ben, where the other guide waited for Bree and Jessie to scale the section Easton and River had climbed almost half an hour earlier. “Those two want to film every handful of snow they pass.”

Her eyes were safely tucked behind his best snow goggles, but her smile was all visible for him to see.

“And yet you’re still hanging out with me instead of going down there and pushing them along. Why do I get the feeling you’re being overprotective?” River settled in to wait for the rest of the team, sitting closer to Easton than was technically necessary. “You set the slowest pace we’ve ever had today.”

“Maybe a little.” Easton bumped her shoulder companionably.

The air in their lungs was cold, and the wind bit into their clothes. Still, River’s good mood hadn’t left. The woman he’d stopped for on the side of the road had teemed with frustration. This River was exactly where she wanted to be, and it showed.

Sitting at her side, legs dangling over the edge of the massive block of ice they were perched on, was exactly where Easton wanted to be too.

“What’s that over there?” River asked, pointing toward the rest of the glacier sweeping down the mountainside. Like a painting of an overturned pot of boiling water, the mountainside was an image frozen: a churning cauldron of blocks of ice bigger than houses, rolling and tumbling over one another.

“The same thing we’re sitting on over here.” Easton patted one gloved hand on the ice beneath them. “All of this is an icefall, although we’re on the far edge…the more stable edge. It’s not as bad as the Khumbu Icefall on Everest. That one scares even me.”

“Have you noticed all paths lead to Everest for you?” River teased.

“It’s been in the back of my mind for a long time.”

“Now we know what the man bun is hiding.” She waggled her eyebrows comically. “Your ambition is under there.”

“Better than a bald spot.”

When she giggled, looking guilty, Easton knew she was busted. “That’s why you kept staring at my head, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You thought I was bald.”

“Bald guys are hot. And no. I thought maybe you were balding. Bald-ing. The ‘ing’ is the important part.” Slender fingers plucked her glove off, touching his hair. “And your hair is very sexy.”

Easton took her hand, carefully tugging her glove back on. Then, because she was hip to hip with him and Ben was stuck trying to get Jessie and his gear up the fall instead of him, Easton slipped her hand inside his and stuffed them both inside his jacket pocket for warmth.

The goggles hid her eyes, but there was no hiding the way she leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

He looked down at her, then tugged the end of her braided hair. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to judge people by their looks?”

“No. She taught me never to marry a bull rider, unless I wanted to spend my life with a man all beat up from chasing belt buckles. And if a man chased my belt buckle, pull a Colt Forty-five on him and see what he’s made of.”

Easton blinked. “Your mother scares me.”

“Says the man everyone is scared of. I don’t buy it though. I think you’re soft and squishy beneath that overwhelmingly follicular display of masculinity.”