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 ifhe’dhurther.‘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.
Watching as she lifted a hand to her ponytail and flicked it over one shoulder. Or when she laughed at something that Astrid’s uncle said, or almost lost her footing on an uneven cobblestone and Chuck ‘Cut Your Lunch’ Daly was right there to swoop to her rescue, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her so Aiden’s blood pounded in his ears so loudly it was like the ocean.
Her skin was a deep tan and she seemed to glory in the feeling of the sun on her. Several times, he saw her stop walking and tilt her face to the sky, as if basking in that small pleasure. Such a familiar gesture and like a bolt from the sky, he realised why.
He’d seen her do that before.
Memories wrapped around him like a boa constrictor, making breathing almost impossible.
On the way home from school, one of the first days of spring, when the sun had finally come out and the sky was clear, she’d stopped walking, put both hands on her hips and done exactly that. Back then, her hair had been unruly, even when she’d jammed it into a ponytail, and little bits of it had caught on the breeze and made the air sweet with the fragrance of her conditioner. She’d closed her eyes, parted her lips then sighed, and he’d looked at her then like he was now: like she was the damned embodiment of every single one of his dreams.
He groaned audibly and turned away from the group, who had stopped to admire an ancient building. They were heading for lunch and afterwards, thank Christ, they were going back to the island, where he could get some time to himself. Away from harmless small talk and visions of Sienna morphing into the woman of his teenage dreams, threatening every shred of his equilibrium. How could he want to be around someone so much and also desperately need to get the hell away? What was happening?
He was Ice.
