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‘Losing my mum was tough. I wish I could say the same for Thom, but I barely knew him. When he called me just before he died, I hadn’t spoken to him in five or more years.’

She’d lost her family too, in a different way. But loss is loss, and how could it be judged and measured? It hit people at different times, in different ways. She pushed her hands through her hair and released a long sigh.

She’d come here to find out about her father, but it didn’t seem like Troyden could tell her much about him. She knew a little more than she did before, and she’d have to be content with that. Rubbing her hands on her thighs, she creased the fabric of her dress even further.

‘If you could give me copies of his birth certificate and jot down who my grandparents were, where they were born, and whether there are any medical issues I should be aware of, I’d be grateful.

’ She had taken enough of his time, and there wasn’t much more he could tell her.

And he had to be wishing she’d be on her way.

‘I’ll give you my email address and maybe you could email me scanned copies?’ she suggested.

Eden was surprised by Troyden’s frown. ‘That’s it?’ he asked. ‘You’re just going to walk out?’

She looked at the closed door, then at him. ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’ she said, hesitant.

‘I put my DNA on that website, hoping to find blood relations, Eden, to connect with what little family there was left. I put it there hoping to connect with you .’

He had children. Grandchildren. A whole, sprawling family. Was he really looking to add her to the mix? ‘I’ve always felt incredibly guilty for not doing more for your mum and you. DNA testing became my only hope of finding you.’

But… What? ‘But why would you…’ She heard the raised voice of Mick yelling at her kids not to run, telling them to mind a vase, and winced when she heard glass shattering.

Troyden gripped the bridge of his nose. ‘I swear to God, if those monsters have broken the Ming, I will lose my shit.’

The door opened, and Mick popped her head through the gap. ‘Relax, it was the awful glass ornament Gemma won for you at the village tombola last spring,’ she told him, before slamming the door shut again, rattling the windows.

‘One day, hopefully before I die, Mick will shut and not slam a door,’ Troyden murmured, his eyes returning to her face. ‘I’m very glad to meet you, Eden. And I would very much like to welcome you into the family.’

Eden violently shook her head. She wasn’t anywhere near that point. In fact, she was in a state of information overload, her mental CPU on the verge of frying. She needed time to process everything she’d heard.

She couldn’t forget he was a close friend of the Bancrofts; Troyden was by far the biggest donor to their foundation, and she was the reason they were under investigation.

‘I’m not sure I want to do that,’ she told Troyden, mentally wincing at his obvious disappointment.

He nodded. ‘It’s a lot to take in and I won’t pressure you.’

He paused and then continued, ‘Why don’t you spend some time with us, with me?

Come down for weekends, for the occasional midweek supper.

I’ll get my driver to fetch you and take you back if necessary.

We can eat earlier so that you get home at a decent time.

’ Jesus, a chauffeur, that would be new.

‘Would that suit or does your job require you to work late? What do you do, by the way?’

Ah, crap. The question she didn’t want to answer. ‘Actually, I’m between projects at the moment.’ That wasn’t a lie: she was between projects, and she had no boss to answer to. ‘I’m taking the summer off, actually.’

A smile curved Troyden’s lips. ‘Oh , excellent . Then why don’t you relocate here, to Elmsleigh, for the summer? We can get to know each other, and at the end of the summer, you can decide whether you want to stick around.’

A part of her wanted to. She wanted to spend time with this kind and gentle, maybe even sweet, man.

But what if he wasn’t? What if she came to stay, not for the summer– that was too drastic a step– and he changed his mind?

What if he wanted her around now, but got tired of her hanging around and rejected her?

What if she came to care for him and he decided that she wasn’t good enough to be acknowledged, to be a permanent part of his family? What if she was found lacking?

And God, he was so wealthy, beyond anything she’d experienced before.

His house was filled with priceless objects– Ming vases, for God’s sake!

– and exquisitely decorated. His shirt, while it looked old, was designer; he wore a fancy watch, and she knew, after an ill-fated Google search, that the designer trainers on his feet cost more than her monthly rent!

Her entire flat could fit into this study! Well, nearly.

There were a million reasons why she didn’t belong in his world– most of them in his bank account– but she blurted out the first one that came to mind. ‘I’m allergic to horses, and you love them.’ As if to punctuate her statement, she released a huge sneeze, and her eyes filled with water.

‘Oh, dear, that’s a deal-breaker.’

Disappointment pinned her heart to her ribcage. Right, okay. Eden reached for her bag and looped it over her shoulder, about to stand up and leave. She wouldn’t cry in front of him. She refused to show that much emotion.

‘Okay, sorry to have wasted your time.’

Surprise jumped into his eyes and settled on his face. He followed her to her feet and stepped forward, stopping her by laying a hand on her arm. ‘Eden, hold on. Did you think I was being serious?’

Of course, she did. It made sense, after all. He was horse mad– his whole family seemed to be– and her being allergic to horses was a good reason not to have her around. Why would he want the hassle of worrying about her?

‘Good grief, Eden, you’re going to have to learn to recognise sarcasm and dry humour if you’re going to survive in this family,’ he muttered. He pushed his hand through his hair, his lips thinning. ‘Of course, you being allergic to horses isn’t a problem. I was just being facetious.’

‘So my allergy isn’t a problem?’ she clarified, confusion making her head pound.

‘No, of course not. You’ll avoid the stables and horses, and if you want to see an allergy specialist, I’ll pay for it. In the meantime, we’ll all just shower when we come in from the stables, so you don’t have to be exposed to more dander than necessary.’

How easy he made it sound! ‘You’d do that for me?’

‘It’s not that big an ask, Eden,’ Troyden told her, squeezing her arm before letting his hand drop.

‘Now, my dear, I think you need to be on your way.’ Before she could respond, he lifted his hand.

‘I’m not kicking you out, but I think you need a little time to think about what I said.

If you want to have nothing more to do with me, I’ll be disappointed but I’ll understand.

If you want us to meet over lunch in London, we can do that too.

Spend a few weeks here, every weekend, or move in for the summer, whatever works for you. ’

Eden appreciated him understanding that she felt overwhelmed, that she needed time and space. ‘Thank you. I’ll let you know. I can message you through the DNA site.’

Troyden picked up a simple white card from a silver card holder on his desk and handed it over. On it, plainly printed, was his mobile phone number and email address. She took it and sent him an uncertain look. ‘Shall I give you a missed call, so you can have my number on your phone?’

‘Yes, please,’ Troyden calmly replied. A few seconds later, his phone buzzed.

‘That’s me,’ she stated. Lame. She was out of processing power, and he was right: she needed time and space.

To not only decide what she wanted from Troyden, but also figure out– if she did decide to embark on a relationship with her uncle– how she was going to handle her red-hot, skin-blistering attraction to his stepson.

Arrgh! Why did her life always have to be so bloody messy?

Troyden walked over to her, dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t look so worried, Eden. Our meeting is a good thing. Trust me on this.’

She tried to nod, conscious that she hadn’t told him everything.

The secrets she was keeping– her career, and her connection to the Bancrofts, their investigation– hovered in the air for a split second before she shoved them down again.

Troyden didn’t need to know, not right now.

If and when she decided on whether to have a relationship with him or not, she’d broach the subject.

Until then there was no point in adding fuel to an already raging fire.