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Eden placed her hand on Mick’s shoulder. ‘Mick, I need to have a proper chat with Troyden and Alistair. Preferably around a table, and not in the kitchen while I’m rushing out the door.’

Mick pulled a face. ‘I know we can’t discuss your salary here, or your perks. But I– we – just need an idea of whether it’s something you’d consider. I know it’s not London, but maybe you could be happy here, with us?’

There was something vulnerable in her expression, and Eden knew this was how Gemma would look on Christmas morning as her biggest wish was granted.

She’d thought that, of the two of them, she, Eden, was the more ‘needy’, and that Mick, with her contact list of millions, considered her simply another of her many friends.

It was touching to realise how much Mick valued her, and it was obvious she wanted her to stick around.

She wouldn’t give them up. Not now. Not ever. Not even for Jed.

She gave Mick a quick hug, wondering if she knew it was the first time she’d hugged a girlfriend. ‘I need to go,’ she said. ‘I’ll catch you later.’

‘If you do take the job, I promise to buy and pay for BTS tickets whenever they next come to London,’ Mick told her as she was halfway out of the kitchen door.

Eden couldn’t help messing with her. It was what best friends, and sisters, did. She braked, turned and raised her eyebrows at Mick. ‘I’ll think hard about it if you make them VIP tickets. And you need to buy me all the merch.’

As she expected her to, Mick gulped, turning a little pale, obviously thinking about how much she’d have to shell out. Then she narrowed her eyes at her. ‘Do you think you are worth VIP tickets?’ she asked, lifting her nose. The affection in Mick’s eyes was in direct contrast to her snotty tone.

‘Yes, actually, I do.’

Mick pulled a face. ‘Dammit, of course you are. VIP BTS tickets…’ She pushed her hand into her thick hair, and grimaced. ‘ Shit. I’m going to need a loan . ’

Eden shot her a wide grin as she headed out of the room, the warmth in her chest spreading. This was what family felt like: banter wrapped up in unconditional love. And damn it, she liked it.

And she loved them. Best of all, they seemed to love her too.

* * *

Eden glanced at her watch, saw that it was just past five and took a long sip from her oversized travel mug filled to the brim with ice and a high-caffeine energy drink.

Given how many she’d slammed back today, she was pretty sure her liver was in shock.

But as she was operating on only a few hours of sleep and sheer willpower, with barely any food, at this point caffeine was the only thing between her and collapsing.

Standing next to the main tent, she looked down at her iPad, the words a blur on the screen, and rubbed her eyes before hauling in a deep breath and trying again.

Right, the last match of the day, between the Castle Kings and a team Henry had pulled together, was happening on the field.

Surprisingly, judging from the earlier roars of the crowd, it was turning out to be a cracker.

Given how much she had to do today, she hadn’t had a moment to spare to watch any polo.

No, that was a lie. She’d deliberately kept her eyes away from any players, horses or the field in case she laid eyes on Jed.

Eden looked at the electronic scoreboard and saw that the last chukka was about to start.

In seven odd minutes, the day’s matches would be over and soon the prize-giving would begin.

Henry would do a welcome speech, present a rather substantial cheque to Hope Harbour, and then hand out the day’s prizes.

She was expecting many people in the crowd to stay for the after-party, as Neon Alibi had proven a huge drawcard.

Free music and booze? The place would be packed until the alcohol ran out.

The day was a roaring success and she was proud of how she’d taken Mick’s half-arsed idea and turned it into this buzzy, vibey, fun day.

Working for the Bancrofts had given her the skills to organise something like this, but from today, she could step out of their shadows and claim her place in the sun.

It was safe to be seen.

Admittedly, the new Duke of Bythesea had been a godsend this past week, calm and controlled and quietly supportive.

Good-looking and quietly charming, confident and self-assured, Henry was– if you ignored the fact that his house was falling down in places and that he was, as he’d confessed to her over dinner last week, living on his last credit card– a catch.

If she hadn’t met Jed, she might’ve made herself fancy him.

With Jed, she didn’t have to try. From the moment she’d met him, he’d filled her heart and mind, and there had been no room left for anyone else. If she couldn’t work things out with him, would she ever be able to look at another guy or be with anyone else? Not, she thought, for a long time.

A long, long time.

‘Eden!’

Eden stopped pretending to consult her iPad and waved at Mick, looking movie-star famous in her oversized sunglasses.

Eden closed her tablet and walked over to where Mick stood with Troyden.

Justin and Alistair were making their way over to them as well, Justin’s hand around Alistair’s massive bicep.

Al had a beer in one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other.

Troyden sent her his sweet smile, the one she knew he kept for the special people in his life, and she surprised him by kissing his left cheek, then his right.

Troyden placed his hands on her shoulders and cocked his head. ‘Now what was that for, my darling?’

She ducked her head, embarrassed. Unable to explain, she lifted her shoulder and looked at the field. Harris, Number Three, was swapping horses, once again not bothering to dismount.

‘Pull your eyes off my brother’s arse,’ Mick commanded her, shaking her arm. ‘It’s gross.’

Only a sister could look at Jed on a horse and shudder with distaste. Eden, reluctantly, turned her attention back to the Castle crew. Mick clutched her arm. ‘Oooh… is that Tom Holland at the bar?’

Since he was accompanied by a curly-haired, exquisite woman who looked exactly like Zendaya, Eden thought it just might be.

Holy hell, Spider-Man was in the house. Score!

Eden took a moment to look around. Behind them stood Bythesea Hall, a benevolent beacon of old-money splendour.

Food and drinks tents and trucks were lined up like little ants, feeding and watering the crowds.

Guests, some in oversized hats or bouncing fascinators, wore designer threads and off-the-rack, mingled in big and small groups, or watched the match from their blankets laid out on the thick grass.

Throughout the day their laughter, commentary and chatter had accompanied the rhythmic thud of polo mallets meeting the ball.

She resisted the urge to dance on the spot.

Her hard work had put smiles on faces, raised money for a deserving charity, and was giving people a lovely day’s respite from a frequently harsh, mentally taxing world.

Good job, Ennis . Her eyes returned to the field where Jed sat astride Rey, the pony’s muscles coiled beneath him like a loaded spring, ready to launch as soon as the chukka started.

He adjusted his helmet, scanning the field as though it were a chessboard and he the grandmaster.

Across the way, Henry, an adept polo player, flashed his signature grin– a little too wide, a little too smug– and saluted him with his mallet.

‘Ready to lose, brother?’ Henry’s voice carried across the field, his tone breezy.

Most people would think it just a fun nickname, but the group around her let out a collective sigh.

They all smiled, their eyes a little wet, immediately understanding the meaning beneath the banter.

Jed and Henry had come a long way over the last few months.

They all had.

Eden sensed rather than saw Jed’s smirk. ‘Hope you brought tissues,’ he shouted. ‘It’s going to hurt when you lose.’

Since Henry’s team had some eight and nine handicap players, Eden thought Jed was being a little over-confident.

The horn blew, and suddenly, everyone’s focus was back on the game, their world narrowed to the gallop of hooves and the blur of movement.

Jed, as usual, was fast, reckless and infuriatingly good, zigzagging through the defenders with the kind of flair that made women swoon and sponsors salivate.

The game swung wildly, with Jed’s team surging ahead, only to be yanked back.

Both teams scored again, and the tension inched up a notch.

It was a hard-fought game, entertaining and fast, and everyone’s eyes were on the field.

In the last minute, Jed surged forward, leaning low, his mallet slicing the air with surgical precision as he sent the ball rocketing toward the goal.

The crowd screamed and Jed looked satisfied at their win.

‘Textbook, Jed!’ Kit shouted. The final horn blew. Jed trotted back to the sideline and Henry rode up beside him, mockingly slow clapping.

‘You’re not terrible,’ he called, and the crowd broke into laughter.

Behind Eden, the champagne tent buzzed with excitement, bets were settled, and someone cranked up the music. She reluctantly pulled her eyes from the field, to see that everyone belonging to the Castle clan was watching her. ‘What?’

Mick took her hand and squeezed. ‘You did this,’ she muttered, her voice thick.

She glanced back at the field to where Henry, Kit and Jed were dismounting, laughing as they handed their horses over to the grooms. ‘I think Jed and Henry worked it out themselves.’

Mick smacked her arm. ‘I’m not talking about them, you numpty!’ She widened her arms, trying to gather the day into them. ‘You did all this ! It’s bigger and brighter and more fun and more professional than anything we could’ve pulled off.’

Eden looked around, and the earlier pride rushed back in, hot and bright. ‘I did good, right?’

Surprisingly, it was Alistair who answered. He lifted his head, and his dark, fiercely intelligent eyes met hers. ‘You did very good,’ he rumbled the words.

Eden nodded and her throat closed. Getting two compliments in one day from Al, who rarely bothered to engage, was everything . She placed her hand on his forearm and squeezed. ‘Thank you.’

‘Sign the contract,’ Alistair ordered, his voice gruff. ‘We need a family member running the foundation. Someone we can trust, someone who can read a bloody spreadsheet, decipher the simplest code.’

‘Blah blah,’ Mick muttered.

Tears welled at Al’s gruff endorsement. She might not have Jed, but she was part of this family. And that was everything. Well, nearly everything. Her eyes watered, but Eden knew she couldn’t lose it now; she needed to be Hello! and Tatler photo-ready.

‘Dammit,’ she muttered, fanning her hands in front of her face, trying to dry her tears. She blinked and sniffed, her knees a little weak at the idea of having her people, her place and a soft place to land.

Troyden touched her shoulder. ‘Sweetheart, you can’t cry. You have things to do, an event to close out.’

Dammit, she did. She had a million– okay, an exaggeration– items to tick off her list before she could throw back a tequila and chase it with a beer. But the sooner she started, the quicker she’d be done…

But as soon as she stepped into the tent, she started to sneeze. Right, too many sexy polo players in too confined a space. Well, at least she could blame her horse allergy for her red-with-emotion eyes.