Page 23 of Riding High

‘That’s what I want,’ Troyden replied, his tone mild.

Jed shoved his feet into flip-flops.No one, she realised, carried phones, and she wondered who’d banned them from morning yoga.Probably Jed, control freak.

The group started to disperse, but Eden lingered on, wanting to explore more of this extraordinary space, filled with abundant flower beds and regimented rows of vegetables.

She’d tried to grow herbs in pots in her flat, but they always died, as did the indoor plants she’d bought and babied.She was a plant’s kiss of death and was in awe of anyone who could plant and maintain such a riotous space.

‘I’m going to look around,’ she asked Diana.‘Is that ok?’

The housekeeper nodded.‘Just don’t pick anything, or else Jo will lose it,’ she told her.‘See you back home in fifteen.’She looked, momentarily, horrified.‘You’re not allergic to gluten or carbs or anything like that, are you?’

No, carbs were her spirit animal, as she told Diana, not bothering to remind her that she’d eaten two helpings of her beef wellington last night.‘I eat everything,’ she assured her.She came from a house where money had been tight, so her mum hadn’t let anyone be picky about food.

‘Excellent.My cinnamon rolls are yum,’ Diana assured Eden, and she didn’t doubt her statement for a second.But she would have to go for a long run later.

She noticed Jed look at her, shake his head and drop to his haunches to make a pile of broken pot shards.Eden twisted her lips and scowled at his back.She wanted to grab him by his cotton t-shirt, stand up on her tiptoes and yell that she wasn’t a gold-digger, that she just wanted to get to know her uncle, the only family she had.That she wasn’t a threat to any inheritance he might receive down the line.

That he could trust her…

Except he couldn’t.Her shoulders slumped.She was, after all, the one keeping secrets.She hadn’t told Troyden what she did for a living, or that she was involved in a situation that might blow up in her face when the truth came out.Even if she wanted to tell Troyden the Bancrofts were in legal peril, she couldn’t.The police had made it clear that if she leaked anything about the investigation, even that there was an investigation, she’d be charged with obstruction of justice.

When Mr Shit met Mr Fan, and given the circles the Bancrofts moved in, there was a good chance their arrest would make headlines.She’d get caught up in it too.And, although she’d deleted her social media accounts, taken her profile off the Bancroft Foundation’s website and tried to erase every trace of herself from the internet, it wouldn’t matter.

She’d still be outed as the whistle-blower.Would the Castle clan let her explain?Would they understand why she had to go to the police?And how would it affect her standing within the family?Badly, she was sure.

Because the adage was true: last in, first out.

Suddenly everyone was gone, leaving her alone with Jed, who was bent over, resting his forehead on his knees, his eyes closed.

Was he praying for patience?It seemed highly likely.

He lifted his head, straightened, and his eyes slammed into hers, and Eden took half a step back.His hard stare pinned her feet to the ground, cynicism drifted through his eyes, and suspicion settled on his face.Jed wasn’t a guy you wanted to get on the wrong side of.

And somehow she’d done exactly that.