“Because technically, that’s what I saw when I was climbing.” Sticking to innocence seemed the safest approach. “Why? Was that wrong?”

Rolling her eyes at him, River stood with the camera instead of resting, turning in a circle to take in the vista. Despite the difficulty of their trek so far, River was all but bouncing on her heels in sheer excitement.

She might not have been a professional climber, but River was pretty darn close.

“All right, Easton. This is our final interview before the climb. Do you have anything you want to say to all the people watching us at some indeterminate point in the future?”

Maybe he could have thought of something if she hadn’t flashed him the prettiest smile, a strand of her auburn hair blowing across her eyes.

Easton wasn’t a big talker, but he wasn’t used to being absolutely tongue-tied around a woman. She was just so beautiful. Easton had never met a woman more determined, bullheaded, and maddeningly reckless in his life.

He’d never wanted someone more.

“Nope.”

Laughing, River handed the camera back to him. Then she knelt, her hands scooping up a double handful of snow. He knelt too, setting the camera next to him so it wouldn’t get damaged by her intentions, watching as River deliberately formed a massive snowball. Two more joined the first in a pile at her hip, with a fourth balanced and waiting on the palm of her hand. They were at the top of the world, one wrong breath from death, and she wanted to have a snowball fight.

“I’m going to do this,” River promised him. “You’ve never been snowballed like I’m about to snowball you.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“Oh, it’s totally a threat. Are you ready for me?”

He hadn’t been ready for her in the least, not since he pulled over on the side of the road. But like back then, try as he might, he simply couldn’t help himself.

“Bring it,” Easton told her, because he knew that was exactly what she planned on doing.

The first snowball was lobbed in his direction, a warning shot. The next two were a direct frontal assault. The fourth was intended to force him into action instead of sitting there, by way of gloved fingers bopping the snowball against his nose.

“That was cold,” he murmured.

“You’re absolutely no fun, are you?” She frowned, nose wrinkling. Then a gust of wind across the mountainside stirred up a spray of snow all on its own, making that cute nose wrinkle become an even cuter sneeze.

“Are you done torturing me?” he asked.

“Depends. Are you going to stand there like a grumpy lump all day?”

Easton flicked a bit of snow in her face to hear her giggle. Scrubbing at her nose to rid it of the snowflakes, she blinked, then found herself with a forehead, mouth, and nose full of the stuff. Unlike her weapons of choice, his snowball had been packed loosely, barely surviving him lobbing it in her direction.

He’d do about anything for her, but Easton had a professional reputation to maintain.

“I’m not grumpy.” Easton scooped up a second handful of snow. “I’m considering the stakes. They’re going to kick me out of the league of mountain guides if I knock you off here with a snowball. So it’s either make you happy…” He loosely packed another snowball. “Or risk professional humiliation.”

“A little professional humiliation never hurt anyone.” River’s grin was full of mischief.

She reminded him of a wolf. Dangerous, smart, willing, and more than able to flash her fangs when she needed. But like a wolf with their mate, she wanted him to play with her. This time, she tried to duck his snowball and failed.

“Wolves mate for life, River.”

“That was the most random sentence I’ve ever heard.” Spitting snow from her mouth, she blinked the flakes from her eyes and dropped down to her knees next to him.

Smiling slightly, Easton settled back on the snow. There, now they were at a better height. Her head slightly taller than his. Taking her face in his hands, he allowed himself a moment to enjoy this. Having her here, with him in his favorite place in the world.

“River?”

“Hmm?”

“Even lone wolves mate for life. I want you happy. If you want to play, I’m game.”

How could he not be? After all, those sweet, snow-chilled lips were pressed to his. And Easton had never, ever wanted something as much as he wanted this.

Wrapping his arms around her, Easton tugged River into his form. The thick layers of jackets between them couldn’t hide the tension in his muscles, his body responding to her proximity. Her lips were cold, but the passion growing between them made him feel as if they were on fire.

“I can’t breathe,” she whispered.

“It’s the lower oxygen up here.”

She gripped his arm, pulling him closer. “No. I can’t breathe when you’re next to me.”

Breathless or not, River pulled his face to her own.

A brief rest was all they had time to take, so eventually, they extracted from each other’s arms. The last part of the climb was the most technically challenging. And yes, her steps were slower than they were lower on the climb, but River’s determination to keep going never dropped, her eyes never leaving the prize of the summit above them.

That final pinnacle of rock and ice was tantalizingly close. Each careful step, each secured handhold brought them nearer. Until finally, with one more hoist of their bodies up the last few feet of the spine they were traversing, there was nothing left in front of them. A bit of ground covered in snow and ice, with one solitary granite boulder the size of a small car capping the summit.

“Be careful,” Easton called ahead in warning. “It’s weathering away on the north side.”

River didn’t answer, but as she took those last few steps, she stayed away from the northern edge of the summit. Then she turned, and the expression on her face was one of utter shock.

“Easton,” River breathed. “Look.”

He was looking. And it wasn’t at the stunning vista around them. All these years, he’d led others up this mountain. So many trips, but this was the one he’d never forget.

For Easton, watching River stand on the top of the world, realizing she had accomplished the near impossible, was better than anything.

The reward for her effort was a view so beyond any she could have experienced so far, knowing the mountains she’d climbed. Mount Veil was beneath them now, a sea of ice and snow, of dark rock speckling otherwise pristine white. From here, the glaciers they’d climbed had become frozen rivers cutting wide swathes down through the mountainside, like drips from an ice cream cone. And farther below was the tree line, where they’d taken their first steps into this adventure. The cloud cover hung around them, clinging to peaks on other mountains, climbs yet to be taken, challenges yet to be met.