His expression was pained. ‘All right. What condition are you in?’

‘What do you mean?’ She drew back defensively.

‘Physically. What can you handle? If we want to tick off a couple of summits a day, I need to know how fit you are.’

Not as fit as she’d been eight years ago, that was certain. ‘I can walk all day.’

‘Speed? How much altitude gain?’

‘I have no idea,’ she bit out. ‘I don’t hike much any more.’ She didn’t like the wary look he gave her. ‘Who am I supposed to go hiking with? And to be perfectly honest, I haven’t missed it much. I quite like showering and sleeping in an actual bed too.’

He sat perfectly still for a long moment, his gaze reflective, as though he were analysing her down to the finest detail. It was disconcerting, especially since she’d expected his gruff disapproval. ‘Fair enough,’ he said, his voice low. ‘You mentioned a via ferrata? Is that something we should be looking at? They’d get their feeling of achievement. Climbing is ruled out with a group that size, but a via ferrata could be a compromise to get somewhere really spectacular in a short time.’

Sophie looked down at her lap to hide her grimace. ‘I think they’d love a via ferrata.’ Sophie on the other hand… ‘As long as it’s not too challenging for the rest of the party.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Andreas scoffed. ‘I’ve got no desire to lead a large, mixed-ability group up a difficult route either. When was the last time you did one?’

‘With you,’ she answered in a small voice.

His brows shot up. ‘You stopped climbing… entirely?’

She just nodded.

‘What about with Rory? He seemed keen. He even said he’d consider training as a guide.’

‘He didn’t,’ Sophie said with a gulp. ‘We were just quite… comfortable in our spare time.’

Andreas looked as though ‘comfortable’ was up there with bad coffee in his books. ‘Are you sure you’re still up to it?’ he asked evenly.

‘I’ll manage,’ she insisted. They’d agreed he wouldn’t choose anything difficult. Although it sometimes felt surreal, she had dangled from ladders and scrambled up plenty of precipices that summer they’d been together. She might not be looking forward to it, but she would manage. She had to.

‘Okaaaaay,’ he agreed – a little doubtfully, but that only hardened her resolve. ‘We should find some place.’

‘Some place? People don’t usually plan to get married “some place”. We need to find somewhere perfect – a few options that are perfect – and soon. I know we don’t have to make any bookings, but they’re getting married on the nineteenth of September!’ She was already getting nervous about a four-month turnaround for arranging the ceremony, but Andreas had assured her it was plenty of time and coming any earlier would have been too cold.

‘The nineteenth is the day booked for the reception, is it?’

‘The wedding, yes. They arrive on the Monday. Pre-wedding events are scheduled for Tuesday and Thursday, with a rest day on Wednesday and then Friday is the big day. I avoided the weekend to minimise the number of other hikers?—’

‘I can’t guarantee it can happen on the Friday,’ he interrupted her. ‘Don’t you remember our pre-departure briefing for Sardinia?’

Sophie remembered arriving for that meeting and having every molecule of breath punched out of her lungs when she met their adventure guide. She’d been worried she’d have to peel her chin off the floor and mop up the drool. When he’d shaken her hand with an impersonal smile, she’d lost the ability to form words, so distracted by his rough fingertips and rasping accent.

She took a deep breath, clearing her head enough to work out his meaning. ‘Safety comes first. The most important tool is good planning and the key to good planning is adapting to conditions.’

He huffed a laugh. ‘You were a good student.’ Hopefully, he didn’t mean she’d hung on his every word, because she’d hoped he hadn’t noticed. ‘But the other lesson from every briefing: the guide is in charge. No one gets married until I say so.’

She stifled a chuckle at his dramatics. Biting her lip and keeping her gaze on her lasagne, she ordered herself not to point out that he’d put himself back in the picture.

‘Was something funny?’

Oops, busted. ‘Nope.’

‘Safety is not a joke.’

She couldn’t stop the next snort of laughter. Trying to hide behind her wine glass, she only succeeded in choking on her sip.

‘Sophie.’ The way he said her name this time, with a shake of his head and an exasperated smile, sounded even more like an endearment. ‘You know I’m serious, hmm?’