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Chapter Fourteen

A garden party at the Hall, Henry had decided, was a good way to promote the charity polo match and had invited Tatler and Hello!

to cover the event. Eden, in her excitement, had got ready with hours to spare and, instead of waiting for Jed to pick her up at the big house, had ambled down to his place to wait for him there.

With the charity polo match happening next weekend, a day event squeezed in between the more serious matches, she was jittery from too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Everyone in the village, in big ways and small, had pitched in to help with organising the event, keeping her stress levels manageable.

Jed’s teammates and colleagues were playing in exhibition matches, and they’d sold a lot of tickets.

It had to go well because Hope Harbour needed the funds, and the Bythesea villagers had put their trust in her.

She didn’t want to— No, she couldn’t let them down.

Another layer of worry had nudged its way into her current list of things that could go wrong: would Tara and Vince attend Henry’s cocktail party? Their names weren’t on the updated RSVP list, thank God. But A-list celebrities, football players and movie and West End stars were.

The Bancrofts’ absence meant she could relax and enjoy being dressed up for a day.

Her hair and make-up had taken ages, but she was happy with her ‘natural’ look.

She wore her prettiest dress, a wraparound sky blue with a slit that showed a good portion of her thigh when she walked or sat, and her kick-ass, albeit second-hand, silver vintage too-high shoes.

She couldn’t think of a better way to spend an English summer afternoon than sipping champagne, eating tiny cucumber sandwiches and ogling James MacAvoy and Benedict Cumberbatch out of the corner of her eye.

Bliss.

Flip-flops on her feet, sexy shoes dangling from her hand, she lifted her face to the sun and smiled.

She’d spent her nights in Jed’s bed, with him loving her in every way imaginable.

How the man functioned on so little sleep, she didn’t know.

He was up at dawn, put in a jam-packed day training and exercising, and then a full night with her.

A natural, unforced affection existed between her and Troyden, and she adored spending time with Mick.

Justin was completely wonderful, calm and supportive, and she’d even managed to bond with Alistair over code.

She felt at home here, on the estate, and couldn’t imagine returning to London with the day-to-day slog of trains and buses, crowds and anonymity. And loneliness. God, she’d never realised how lonely she was until she’d come to Elmsleigh House.

And notably, she hadn’t watched a single K-drama since arriving in Gloucestershire, and considering she was an addict, or at the very least, mildly obsessed, that was saying something. But then again, she had the English version of Hyun Bin in her bed and her life.

The phone in her bag buzzed and she pulled it out, her eyebrows lifting when she saw Detective Gosling’s name flash up.

‘We raided the foundation’s offices. Seized computers and documentation. We are expecting to arrest the Bancrofts soon.’

Soon? What sort of time frame was that? ‘Can you be more specific?’ she asked, frazzled.

‘CPS is reviewing the case. I’ll try to remember to let you know when charges are filed, or arrests have been made.’

He’d try to remember? That was all she got? Then Eden remembered his desk, the stacks of folders on it, the blue shadows under his eyes and him mainlining black-tar coffee. Their resources were stretched and the Bancrofts weren’t his only case. She sighed, thanked him and disconnected.

Almost instantly, a headache appeared behind her eyes, the sun suddenly too bright.

There was no avoiding the fact she was living in a bubble of sunshine and sex, and it was going to burst, soon.

Turning off onto the drive to take the path through the trees to the cottages, she blinked back tears.

She was happy here, content, was enjoying helping to arrange the charity polo match, and had somehow slid into village life.

She’d joined Pilates classes at the village hall, had volunteered to pick up litter on a community drive, and the barman at the pub now knew her favourite wine and poured her a glass without asking.

She was starting to recognise the rhythm of the village and felt a part of it.

She’d finally raised a smile from the taciturn lady with the steel hair at the grocer’s, and Cody, the barista, saw her coming and prepared her double shot frappé without asking.

She was now part of Mick’s team for the Goat’s quiz night, where they consistently came in last. In London she either felt ignored or dispensable.

Elmsleigh and the village could become, with very little effort, her place.

But that was impossible. She and Jed were living on fresh air and hormones, caught up in the moment.

He didn’t know she was a bitch-monster on every third or fourth period, and she’d yet to see him drunk.

They were still showing each other the best versions of themselves, and Eden knew it wasn’t real life.

Nobody could keep up the pretence forever, and she didn’t want to.

She wanted raw and real, dark and light and all the shades in between.

If she was going to love someone, she wanted to love all of them, not just the bits she liked.

Stopping outside Jed’s door, she slipped off one flip-flop, slid on her shoe pushed the back strap over her heel.

She’d found them at a vintage shop in Camden Market years ago and this was their first outing.

She repeated the action on the other side, and then held her foot out, smiling at the elegant line of the shoe, loving its slight shimmer in the sunlight.

Her life might be an out-of-control spinning top, but her shoes were ama-zing .

‘Sexy shoes, sweetheart.’

She looked over her shoulder to see Jed striding down the path to her, sweaty and hot, still dressed in grubby jodhpurs and a sweat-stained t-shirt.

He looked wild and wired, his gold eyes sparking with adrenalin and appreciation.

He looked at his watch. ‘I know, I know, I’m late. Give me five minutes to shower.’

Yeah, but first she needed to kiss him, kiss this hot, handsome man with his wild cowboy vibe.

She stepped up to him, wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and slapped her lips on his.

Keeping his lips on her, he arched his spine back, arms akimbo to keep his shirt and pants away from her dress.

She growled, annoyed. ‘Come back here, Number Three.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sweaty and horsey, and I don’t want to make you dirty or sneezy, Sneezy.’

She glared at him. ‘What if I’m perfectly happy to get dirty and sneezy?

’ she demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

Okay, truthfully, it would be a pain in the arse because it had taken ages to curl her hair and finagle it into its messy, just-rolled-out-of-bed knot, and she’d spent much longer than her usual five minutes on her make-up.

She wore base, and concealer, and had contoured her cheekbones, for God’s sake.

And she’d applied a setting spray. She’d worked damn hard to look this good.

Which he hadn’t noticed or commented on yet.

As if reading her mind, he stepped back and looked at her. ‘You look stunning.’

He put so much emphasis on the last word that she blushed. He stroked his thumb over her pink-rose-stained lips. ‘I want to kiss you and take you to bed, but we’re already late and you’re too pretty to mess up.’

She pouted, feeling the heat between her legs and the familiar ache in her breasts. ‘I can redo my make-up, and so what if we are late?’

He smiled at her, his expression turning tender. ‘I love that you want me as much as I want you.’ He stretched out his arms and gestured to his body. ‘How could you not want this?’

She knew he was teasing, as Jed didn’t put much stock in his looks. Talent and hard work were important to him. Genes? Not so much.

‘Well, strip down and let me see what you’ve got, cowboy,’ she drawled.

He grinned at her poor American accent. ‘Don’t give up your day job to become an actor, sweetheart.’

She chuckled, loving the fact that their banter could range from sexy to ridiculous in the blink of an eye. And back to sexy, as he took in her dress with its deep cleavage, showing the smallest sliver of a lacy bra the same colour as her dress.

‘But’—man, she hated that word—‘there’s no way I’m going to risk you sneezing and welting because of me. I’ve been on a horse or around horses since this morning.’

She was vain enough not to want to arrive at the garden party not only late, but sneezing, red-eyed and spotty too.

She wrinkled her nose. Pooh. Jed opened his front door and gestured for her to precede him.

‘I can take a shower and then get you off,’ he casually offered, tossing his phone onto the hall table.

The hall table he’d made. Because the man had amazing hands and an even more talented mouth.

And yeah, she wanted an orgasm. Like right damn now. ‘What about you?’ she asked, her voice scratchier than she liked. God, she sounded horny. Okay, she was, but she really needed to up her cool game.

He tapped her nose. ‘I can wait. Unlike you, I have a modicum of control.’

Bastard for teasing her. She stepped closer to him and placed her hand on his bulge, and he hardened beneath her, strong and sure. Yeah, that was more like it. ‘Control, huh?’

He closed his eyes and pressed her hand against his shaft. ‘Five minutes to shower and then I’m going to take you fast, Eden. You up for that?’

She felt a sneeze building and nodded. ‘Hurry,’ she told him.