“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.”

“I’m just…thinking,” she murmured.

“About my head?”

“Something like that.”