Page 36 of Settling the Score (The Karma Club #4)

‘This suits you, you know.’ Ten minutes after setting off from the island, she felt the moment he came and stood beside her.

She glanced to him, the sun bouncing off the Mediterranean and landing against his dark hair, glinting like onyx. ‘Being a tour guide?’

He laughed. ‘Relaxing. Sunshine. Island hopping.’

She pulled a face. ‘I didn’t even own a passport three months ago,’ she pointed out. ‘This is hardly my normal.’

‘Nah, maybe not. But, like I said, it suits you, Mastrangelo.’

‘I’ll put it on my bucket list. Except I’m a little short of billionaire friends,’ she said with a small smile. ‘Though I am warming to the whole boat thing. Maybe a bigger boat is what I need?’

‘Bigger boat, less vomit?’

Her cheeks flushed pink at the memory of losing her lunch right at his feet. ‘Well, that could have been the boat, or it could have been seeing you again,’ she teased with saccharine sweetness.

‘Great, so I literally make you sick?’

She laughed. ‘Okay, it was probably the boat.’

‘My ego is glad to hear it.’

‘I have no doubt your ego is perfectly healthy.’

He pulled a face and she took pity on him, changing the subject.

‘If you’re keeping count, I also don’t particularly like planes.’

His eyes scanned her face. ‘I did not know that about you.’

‘How could you? I’d never even been on a plane back then.’

‘No.’ He turned contemplative. ‘That’s true.’

He turned to look out at the water, which was crystal clear, even here, where they were deep and cutting through it at speed.

The other guests milled on deck, in various states of relax and recline.

Sunnies, sunscreen, smiles, some glasses of bubbly, some sipping coffee.

Everything about the boat was sheer luxury perfection.

No stone had been left unturned in planning the perfect wedding.

‘And now?’ he prompted, after a beat.

She looked at him, curiously.

‘Do you travel much?’

She made a snorting sound, then forced a smile. ‘I’ve travelled a bit, since meeting the girls. Just to catch up, when we can. Olly has a million air miles…’ Her voice trailed off as she realised how revealing the comment was. Like the fact her financial situation was pretty damned tenuous.

His eyes narrowed. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to fly?’

‘Well, I really don’t like flying, anyway, as I said…’

‘But you like seeing your friends.’

‘Yes.’ Her response was tight. She could feel him looking at her, feel the sympathetic answer he was formulating and she wanted to nip it in the bud. ‘It’s okay, Aiden. I mean, we don’t all make ten million dollars a year, but I get by.’

Something shifted in his expression. A wariness. An uncertainty. He glanced down at her, eyes scanning her face. ‘Once you have a million bucks to your name, it doesn’t really make a huge difference.’

She laughed then. ‘Spoken like someone with all the money in the world and absolutely zero sleepless nights courtesy of a mountain of unpaid bills.’

‘Is that what it’s like for you, Si?’

‘I’m fine,’ she replied, stiffly.

‘It’s just… if you’re stuck. I mean, if you’re struggling, I could?—’

She lifted her hand and clamped it against his lips. ‘Don’t. Don’t say what you’re thinking.’

His eyes didn’t just look at her, but pierced her fully.

‘I don’t want your help,’ she said, simply but forcefully. ‘That’s not what this is.’ And with her striking blue eyes, she pierced him right back.

* * *

He felt it like a blade. The contemptuous, determined rejection of his spontaneous offer.

Hell, he’d been beaten but good in his time.

His dad had pounded on him as a kid, then he’d gone into a job that saw him regularly on the receiving end of some of the biggest defenders in the game, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such a precision sting as the way she’d just dismissed him.

Okay, he hadn’t exactly thought it through.

But suddenly, the amount in his bank account seemed utterly obscene.

He hadn’t wanted to correct her, but her figures were a bit out of date.

It had been quite a few years since he’d ‘only’ earned ten mil per season.

He was about to sign for a record-breaking amount.

Add in what he made from sponsorships, not to mention the fact he’d partnered with a top investment guy in his first year playing pro, and Aiden was sitting on the kind of fortune that would have made his teenage self’s eyes stream.

It would be the easiest thing in the world for him to throw some money Sienna’s way. A million bucks? He wouldn’t miss it.

Who even was he, that he could think like that?

He knew he’d come a long way, he just hadn’t really stopped to look back, and to recognise that.

He’d come so far from his roots, he’d kind of forgotten what it was like to struggle.

But as a kid, he’d known how hard it was for his parents to make rent, to pay the bills.

Even going back to Ashbury to buy the house for his dad, he hadn’t stopped to think about the rest of the town.

It had been depressing enough when he was a kid, then the biggest auto maker in the district had shut down. Meaning there were high levels of unemployment, not a lot of spare cash, and the whole place was suffering.

Suddenly, he imagined what it would be like for someone like him, or him and Blake, to roll up their sleeves and become Mother freaking Teresa to the whole place. Rejuvenate the main street, pour money into the school, the town facilities. To really make a difference to Ashbury.

His skin flushed hot then cold.

They’d never do it though. Their whole life philosophy had been about not going back. Apart from that one time, when it had been essential to go see his dad and sort out the house, Aiden had seen Ashbury Falls as some kind of personal Achilles’ heel.

But how much of that was to do with Sienna?

And the fact he’d still been running from her.

No matter how many years they’d been apart, had he ever really been dumb enough to believe she was really just some woman from his past?

Someone he’d once loved? Hadn’t he actually known, on some soul deeper level, that seeing her again would unlock a door he desperately needed to keep firmly closed?

‘Are you okay?’ The antagonism was gone. So too was the hand that had been pressed to his mouth, and she was looking around a little self-consciously. Like she was worried someone would see them together. Like she didn’t want to be seen with him. As though she were ashamed of him.

His gut rolled.

Everything seemed to slow down and then threaten to stop.

‘Aiden, are you okay?’ She spoke louder now, fixing him with a concerned look. Careful to keep her distance, though.

‘Yeah.’ His mouth felt dry. He stared at her almost as if he’d never seen her before in his life. Or as if there were many versions of her.

‘I didn’t mean to offend you,’ she said, with the hint of apology in the lines of her mouth. ‘It’s just – we both know why that would never work.’

‘Do we?’

‘Come on.’ She smiled, but it seemed forced to Aiden. ‘I can’t take anything from you.’

It was like another blow, right in the solar plexus. The woman he’d once loved, the woman he’d loved enough to walk hard and fast away from, rather than risk ever, ever hurting her, was telling him she wouldn’t take something he could so easily give? ‘It’s just money.’

She pulled a face, and he knew straight away that he’d sounded like an insensitive ass.

‘I just mean, I have money. If you don’t, then let me?—’

She closed her eyes, as if he’d hurt her.

‘Please, don’t keep saying it,’ she whispered then, before opening her eyes and glancing around at the other wedding guests.

‘I really don’t want to have this conversation with you.

’ Another smile, this time, tightly dismissive.

‘Excuse me, I should go mingle. Bridesmaid duties, and all that.’

He watched as she walked away, beelining to Chuck Daly, who was all gleaming smile and popped collar, bronzed tan and sparkling eyes, waiting like a puppy dog for Sienna’s attention.

As she approached, she put her hand in the crook of his arm – no shame there, apparently – and guided him away from the group, locked in private conversation.

Intimate conversation. Like they were old friends with a long list of secrets to spill.

She looked so damned gorgeous. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that this suited her.

She might have been a newcomer to the international jet-setting lifestyle, but she looked like she’d been doing it every day for the last ten years.

Dressed in a pair of linen shorts and a cropped shirt that showed an inch or so of her slim, tanned midriff, wearing strappy flats that drew attention to her lean calves, with her shimmering blonde hair pulled back into a preppy, high ponytail, she looked…

perfect. And he was clearly not the only one to think so, going by the way Chuck Daly was eating her up with his eyes.

Aiden looked away sharply, focusing on the distant landmass of the island, and recognising that it was an absolute metaphor – though he wouldn’t have said so before this damned week – for his entire life.

* * *

He kept his distance because he somehow just knew she wanted him to.

He played the part of Aiden ‘Bigshot’ Carter, shooting shit with some of the guys from the team who’d come along, or talking to some of the guests from Astrid’s side.

He’d never met them, but they all seemed to know who he was, and wanted to grill him on hockey.

What it was like as a career, rumours about some of the other big-name players, random questions about ice preparation and training regimes.

He ran the gamut of small talk, all the while doing his level best not to stare the hell out of Sienna, even when his stupid eyes seemed to have developed a mind of their own.

No matter how hard he tried, he found he just kept… looking at her.