Page 3 of Riding High

She, Troyden Castle and the Bancrofts were a messy, knotty skein of human wool.Six years ago, after taking a DNA test, she’d discovered that Troyden Castle, the popular billionaire, was her paternal uncle.Most people would’ve rejoiced at the connection, but Eden was wary.Most people had disappointed her, especially anyone related by blood, and she was pretty certain Troyden Castle would do the same.After all, it was a truth universally acknowledged that a multi-divorced man in possession of a good fortune must be an arsehole.But she couldn’t let go of the nagging thought that she needed to take another look at him, to dig deeper.A quick internet search had informed her he was the Bancroft Foundation’s biggest benefactor, so she’d approached Tara and Vincent, offering to work as their unpaid intern for three months, hoping that she’d gather some information on her ‘uncle’ to help her decide whether he was someone she wanted to meet or avoid.

Months passed, her responsibilities increased, and soon she was employed as their right-hand person.She’d loved her job, happy to stay in the background at the foundation, unseen but useful.Time rolled on, but she kept delaying the decision to acknowledge her connection to Troyden.Busy at work, it had been enough to collect scraps she could from the Bancrofts, gathering intel that Troyden, despite his reputation, was a nice guy, sweet and generous.

His only bad habit seemed to be his inability to stay married– five ex-wives were a lot!– and being a magnet for gold-diggers.

Year after year, she put off the decision to meet him.The DNA site would’ve told him that he had a close family member, but she chose to keep her details private until she was certain whether she wanted to meet him or not.Until recently it had been enough to know he wasthere.If she kept him at a distance, he couldn’t disappoint her.

But the last few months had been an emotional watershed– with her mum permanently exiting her life and the Bancrofts’ criminality forcing her into making hard decisions she never expected to make.

As her life continued to flip inside out, her curiosity about Troyden Castle, her only blood relative, increased.Hewas connected to the Bancrofts, was their donor, and despite being ordered not to by the police, a part of her wanted to warn him of the Bancrofts’ behaviour.Because that’s what families did, right?

But she needed to decide whether they were family first.Arrgh!Complicated.

You’re overthinking this, Eden.She hadn’t come to Elmsleigh today to meet him, but thought that being on his property might help clarify her thinking about whether she wanted to walk through life with or without family…

Eden saw a path and veered left, grateful for the huge branches of the oak trees providing respite from the hot summer sun.She lifted her dress off her hot chest and flipped through her mental dossier on Troyden.

Elmsleigh House was the property– he had several– where he spent the bulk of his time.He’d been married numerous times but had no biological children of his own.However, various stepchildren lived on the grounds.The house had a billiards room, two libraries, more than a dozen living rooms ranging from huge to cosy, and God knew how many bedrooms.

From her position behind the trunk of a wide oak, looking down into the walled courtyard behind the house, Eden watched an SUV swing in and park close to what she thought might be the kitchen door.A lithe woman of Indian descent, dressed in ragged denim shorts and a man’s oversized, knotted, button-down shirt, jumped out of the car.She lifted a little boy out of the car.A girl, older, jumped down and the kids ran into the house.The woman bundled her long, thick dark hair up onto her head, and tied it into a messy bun.Eden sighed at her effortless elegance, her long, slim legs and cut-glass cheekbones.Even from a distance, she was gorgeous.

Another path skated off to her right.She couldn’t go back to the polo match, not when Tara and Vince were there, but she might be able to walk around the house and leave via a circuitous route.At the end of the path was the stable block, which, she figured, would be deserted.She just needed a cool place to sit and think.

Even if she was ready to meet Troyden, this wasn’t the right time or place to approach her uncle.They needed privacy for what would be, she was sure, a difficult conversation.

How would it even go?‘Hi, my name is Eden Ennis.A DNA test says you are my uncle on my father’s side.I’m not sure I want a relationship and don’t need to be part of a family, but I would like any information on my father.Any idea about where he is and why he took off when my mum told him she was pregnant with me?Is he even alive?’

Eden sneezed and wiped her streaming nose, her heart hammering as she approached the impressive stable block.

She’d spent her life watching foster kids come and go, knowing that given the choice, her mum would choose them over her.The fear bubbled up at the thought of making a new, blood-related, connection.What if Troyden looked at her and saw nothing?What if she was just, once again, simply there?

What if her existence didn’t matter to him, just like she never mattered to her mother?Her thoughts tumbled over each other, becoming bigger and bolder, veering off in another direction.Another what-if slammed into her… What if, after meeting, he thought she wanted something from him?She didn’t, but with her life crumbling how could she not look like an opportunist, showing up just when her world was about to detonate?

He’d look at her and see an outsider, might consider her an irritation or a problem to solve, a charity case.But if he went to the opposite extreme and welcomed her into his world… what if she started to believe she had a place in his life and then he eventually decided, like her mum, she wasn’t worth his time and effort, wasn’t worth keeping?Would she simply pass through his life like sand through his open fingers?

The safe option would be to walk away and do nothing.She’d rocked one boat recently and was still wiping water out of her eyes.Maybe it was better to deal with that storm before sailing headfirst into another.

* * *

Leaving his teammates in the branded Castle Kings players’ tent during the break, Jed Harris grabbed a bottle of water and headed over to where Troyden lounged in a deckchair, thankfully alone.He needed to head to the stables to check on his favourite pony– she’d favoured her left forelock earlier– but he could take a few minutes to talk to his stepdad first.Today was a demo match, held between two neighbouring clubs, as practice for the upcoming, maybe his last, season.

He rubbed the back of his neck, irritated.Thoughts about retiring from the game, maybe coaching or making furniture full-time kept ambushing him.He needed to think about the future at some point… Where was he going?What was his next goal?Where did he want to be in five years?

Adulting.Fucking bullshit.

But today the sun was shining, it was good to be back in the saddle playing polo without any pressure.Unlike the intense, professional matches, today he could miss a few chukkas, allowing a junior player to get some game experience.

He dropped into the empty chair and stretched out his long legs.Chugging his water, he looked across the field to where he’d earlier spotted Troyden talking to a slim woman.He’d first noticed her hair, and the way the sun bounced off it, turning it a stunning shade of rose gold.She’d been dressed in a simple navy polka dot dress showing off long, shapely legs ending in trendy trainers.From his saddle, he’d clocked her heart-shaped face, wide mouth, and thought he could see the freckles on her nose and cheeks.Maybe she was a natural redhead…

He loved redheads.

‘Who were you talking to earlier?’he asked Troyden, keeping his question casual.

‘I talk to a lot of people, so you’re going to have to be more specific.’

‘Strawberry blonde, blue dress, no hat.’Long neck, small waist and curvy hips.And, yeah, great boobs.

‘Didn’t catch her name.Polo newbie, didn’t know what was going on.Had to help her understand,’ Troyden laconically replied.‘Pretty girl.’