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He moved in her, strong and sure, lifting and filling her, making her feel more like herself than ever before.

Then Eden stopped thinking and started feeling, and her world morphed into a vivid, technicolour light show.

She felt his lips on her neck and inhaled the smell of his shampoo on his soft, messy hair.

His fingertips pushed into the soft skin on the underside of her thighs.

She’d probably have bruises in the morning, but they were marks of his possession, and she was, as archaic and anti-feminist as that sounded, okay with that.

She thought their passion would burn fast and fade quickly, but his rhythm was strong and sure and…

prolonged. Eden sobbed, tightly coiled as she hit one level of intensity, thought that was it, and then realised she could go higher.

He took her there, teased more, and hauled her up a notch.

Tears rolled down her face, need and want coalescing in a tight explosive ball, utterly convinced she couldn’t take anymore.

And she was right, when she morphed into light and sound and swore that she heard the sound of angels singing, emotion and tension exploding from a place deep inside her as she became a million fragments of fairy and stardust. From a place in another galaxy, sometime in the future, from a place in the past, she felt his final surge, her back pinned against the wall.

His shudder jumped from him to her and his lips latched onto her collarbone.

He pulsed into her, and then Eden welcomed his slumped weight.

Because, really, what did breathing matter?

Eden wasn’t sure how long it took for him to lift his body off hers, to pull back and out.

He gently lowered her feet to the ground, lifted her hand and placed it on the wall next to her, making sure she was steady on her feet.

Without embarrassment, he removed the condom, tied it off and hauled up his jeans.

He did up his belt, slid the condom into the back pocket of his jeans and bent down to pick up her dress.

After straightening her panties, he gently lowered her dress over her head and carefully folded her bra before pushing it into her hand.

‘You okay?’ he asked, stroking a strand of hair off her forehead.

She was still incapable of speech and nodded.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her into him and rested his lips against her temple. When he spoke, his voice held both a command and a plea. ‘No more dates with Henry, okay?’

She rested her forehead on his chest, coming back to reality with a hard thump. ‘I don’t know what we are doing, Jed,’ she quietly murmured.

‘Me neither, Eden,’ he nodded, his hand sliding into her hair to hold her head to his chest. ‘It’s just sex. That’s all this can be.’

Of course it was. There wasn’t a possibility of more. Not when she was the catalyst to, at best, ruining his godmother’s reputation, at worst, being the reason they landed in jail. At some point, not too long in the future, he’d hate her. But for now, she’d take what she could get.

For the first time, she was prepared to wing it. ‘Just sex, Jed,’ she said, sliding her hands around his waist to explore his hot skin and the muscles of his back.

She’d enjoy the experience and bank the memories.

‘Let me rephrase that… I know I can’t ask anything from you, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go on any more dates with Henry,’ he said, his voice deeper than before. She felt the tension in his back muscles and saw his jaw tighten.

Even if she wanted to, she wasn’t experienced or sophisticated enough to juggle two men at once. ‘Okay,’ she quietly agreed.

He stroked a strand of hair off her cheek and pushed it behind her ear. He jerked his chin up. ‘Can I come inside with you? Can I spend the rest of the night with you?’

Eden had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but she had zero objections to his plans for the rest of the night, so she followed him into the house and up the stairs.

* * *

After winning the Queen’s Cup– held within the grounds of Windsor Castle, the poshest tournament in the country– the Castle Kings were on a bit of a winning streak.

A few weeks later Eden was back at Cowdray for the start of the Cowdray Gold Cup, Europe’s premier high-goal tournament held over three weeks.

It attracted, as she’d learned, international polo stars, celebrities and fans from around the world.

Today’s event, the Midhurst Cup, was held on the opening Sunday of the tournament and she liked the idea that it was a free event, open to families and polo fans alike and kid-friendly with tractor rides, face painting and kids’ games.

The game was changing, with both players and organisers trying to make it more accessible and inclusive.

Focusing less on the wealth and the luxury and more on the sport and its complexities could only be, in Eden’s opinion, a good thing.

Eden cast her eye over the club’s meticulously maintained polo fields, including the historic ‘Lawns’ where the championship games were held.

Each field was encircled by grandstands and open grassy areas for picnics.

With its gentle hills, lush greenery, and the views of Cowdray Castle ruins in the distance, it was a perfect advertisement for the English countryside.

A horn signalled the end of the game and Eden watched as the horses slowed to a trot.

The backs of the riders’ shirts, including Jed’s were wet with sweat.

He ripped off his helmet, revealing his messy, damp hair.

He looked vital and powerful, and Eden smiled at the contentment on his face. Being on a horse was his happy place.

She adjusted her floppy hat and watched the riders clasp hands, before dismounting and handing their ponies and helmets over to their waiting grooms. En masse, eight fit, hot players, with Jed leading the way, walked over to the players’ tent.

Should she wait for him here? They’d spent two nights together, one after the other, but they hadn’t done a hell of a lot of talking.

He’d made it clear she was only a fling, and she had no right to act like his girlfriend, to kiss his cheek and congratulate him on his team’s win.

But if she didn’t, would he think she was uncaring or uninterested?

And what did it matter if he did? They were sleeping together, that was it .

But once or twice, she’d caught him looking at her with an unnerving intensity.

And instead of dropping his eyes, he’d kept looking, as if trying to figure out who she was, mentally drilling into her to see what made her tick.

Having his concentrated attention on her was both unnerving and exhilarating.

And God, when one of those looks was followed by a kiss, their clothes started flying…

Sod it, she could walk over to the tent; it wasn’t prohibited.

Standing on the edge, she saw Jed clock her presence, the slight raise of his head, his mouth lifting slightly.

He was deep in conversation with his teammates, arguing about an umpire’s call.

Kit, the hothead, thought it’d been unfair, with Mateo agreeing, but Jed’s calm reply reminded them there was nothing they could do and that they needed to focus on winning the next game.

He was a natural leader: tough when he needed to be, supportive and positive in defeat.

A light hand on her back made Eden turn, and she smiled, surprised to see Henry.

He looked stylish in grey trousers, a white shirt and a grey vest, with a gold tie pin under his perfectly knotted pink and red tie.

He wore a peaked, flat cap and expensive aviator sunglasses.

Behind him, a group of women had their eyes glued to his back.

Or probably his bum. Henry was a great-looking guy and she’d seen more than a few women trying to catch his attention with sly smiles, flicking hair and lifted chests.

‘Eden.’ He greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks.

‘Hi, Henry, how are you?’ She wrinkled her nose. He’d sent her a few texts asking her out again, and she’d missed a couple of calls. Not because she was avoiding him… Okay, she’d been avoiding him. ‘Henry, I’m sorry…’

His mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smile. ‘I’ve been around the block once or twice. Or ten. I know when a woman isn’t into me.’

She winced, but wasn’t going to insult him with the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line. Actually, it was Jed; she couldn’t think of being with anyone but him.

And, really, she barely had the time to juggle one man, let alone two.

Jed’s polo schedule was intense, and he was always heading off somewhere for a match or a tournament, and she had the charity polo match to organise.

And because she was everyone’s go-to person, the one every committee member turned to for help or advice, her to-do list was a mile long and kept getting longer.

But Henry, bless him, had not only offered to host the event at Bythesea Hall, but had also thrown some sponsorship money at the event, which allowed her a little breathing room. Her ever-changing budget said that they were still on track to a decent sum for Hope Harbour.

Right now, Mick, who seemed to know everyone in the horse world, was in the clubhouse, talking up the event. Eden knew she should be doing the same, but she didn’t know anyone, and felt awkward about walking up to random strangers and punting a charity event.

And that was why she was a behind-the-scenes, logistics and organisational cog in the wheel.

The Bancrofts had always been the face of their foundation, but she was the one who got things done.

Their calls over the last month had faded away and she wondered how they were doing, before reminding herself that their foundation was no longer her concern or problem.

But old habits died hard.