Losing Game: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 2)

by Tracie Delaney

  As her head began to pound, Tally massaged her temples. “We did break up. For about three weeks. Fortunately, Cash managed to persuade me he hadn’t cheated and the situation was completely innocent.”

  Kinga winced, and her hand tightened around her necklace. “I don’t know what to say. Can you ever forgive me?”

  “Jesus, Kinga, you couldn’t have told me this earlier? Or did you keep it a secret so I’d help you get your job back?”

  Kinga recoiled. “No. God, I wanted to tell you straight away when we talked in Monte Carlo, but I didn’t know where to start.” Her hands trembled as she wrapped them around her coffee cup. “What do you think Cash will do?”

  Tally put her hand up. “Stop, please. Let me think.”

  Kinga fell silent as Tally ran scenarios through her mind. Cash would sack Kinga immediately. No, worse than that—he would seek revenge. He’d ruin Kinga’s life, and as much as Tally could feel anger and disappointment bubbling beneath her skin, she kept coming back to the fact that Kinga had been ill. That didn’t excuse her behaviour but did explain it. No, she had to keep this from Cash, at least for the time being. When the time was right, she’d tell him.

  She met Kinga’s anxious stare. “I’m not going to lie. I’m furious that you almost ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me, but the fact is you didn’t. Cash and I are stronger than ever, but our breakup meant he missed a lot of tennis. If I tell him this now, it will destroy his focus once more. So here’s the plan. I won’t tell him, and neither will you. Sometime in the future, when things are more settled, I’ll talk to him. Agreed?”

  Kinga nodded. “Whatever you think’s best.”

  Sweat poured off Cash as he prepared to face another onslaught from the ball machine. Brad was clearly trying to fucking kill him. The machine was set at top speed and the highest random oscillation, meaning Cash had to sprint side to side, go forward and backward, prepare for lobs, drive volleys, forehands, and backhands. His game was improving, no doubt about it. He’d made up the half-yard short that had contributed to his loss in the semis at the Monte-Carlo Masters, and he was almost back to his physical best.

  “Okay, let’s call it there.” Brad passed him a protein drink and a banana.

  Cash sank to the floor, groaning as his body violently protested. “I’m too old for this shit.”

  Brad picked up a tennis ball that had rolled to his feet. “Give up, then. About time I retired to a Caribbean island and had hot girls in skimpy bikinis bringing me all the mojitos I can drink.”

  “Yeah, right. You’d get bored in about ten minutes.”

  “Don’t bank on it.” Brad bounced the ball on the floor. “How did the pace feel?”

  “It’s there, or thereabouts. I was thinking of playing Munich ahead of Madrid.”

  Brad shook his head. “It’s too close, the points are worth shit, and it’ll tire you for the following week.”

  “You don’t think I need a few matches under my belt?”

  “No. What you need is to remember you’re number fucking one, no matter what the rankings say.”

  Brad moved around the court, collecting stray tennis balls and popping them back into the machine. Brad knew him too well, could read that his confidence wasn’t where it should be. Winning on a tennis court was as much about belief as talent. Sometimes more so. And at the moment, Cash had very little faith in himself.

  “You mind if I go?” he said to Brad, anxious to catch up with Natalia to see how her meet-up with Kinga had panned out. In the couple of weeks Kinga had been back on the team, he couldn’t find fault either with the level of commitment she’d shown to him or her kindness towards Natalia. Cash hadn’t dropped his guard, though. He didn’t trust Kinga yet, but she’d given him no reason to renege on the chance she’d pleaded for.

  Brad picked up the last of the balls and tossed it on top of the others. “Nope,” he said, switching the machine off at the wall. “Try and keep moving, though. Jamie will be over later to give you a massage. We need to keep you supple if we’re to maintain this level of practice.”

  Cash nodded wearily and trudged off court. At least he didn’t have to travel far—the tennis court was at the back of his own house. Three minutes later, he staggered into his bedroom and flicked on the shower. As the cubicle filled up with steam, he quickly undressed and stepped inside. Jets of hot water cascaded over his body. He leaned his forehead against the cool tile and closed his eyes. Fuck, that felt good. Even though cold water would be better for tired muscles, he craved the heat.

  After ten minutes, he was briefly entertaining the thought of getting out when the shower door opened, and a fully naked Natalia slipped inside.

  “Hi,” she said quietly, her lips blazing a trail across his shoulders as her arms snaked around his waist.

  Exhaustion forgotten, he felt his cock lengthen. He twisted around in her arms and swept wet hair away from her face.

  “You’re just the pickup I need,” he said, bending his head to kiss her soft neck. She smelt of peaches, sweet and luscious.

  “I thought you’d be exhausted after your practice session.”

  “I was.”

  “What happened?”

  “You turned up,” he said, manoeuvring her against the back wall of the shower, away from the pounding jets.

  She shimmied against his growing erection. “You certainly seem happy to see me.”

  “Oh, baby,” he groaned, lifting her legs and hooking them around his waist. His hands clasped her deliciously tight backside as he pushed himself inside. “So goddamned happy.”

  Cash rolled over in bed and ran his fingertips up and down Natalia’s arm, knowing he should refrain but, at the same time, wondering whether he had enough energy for round two.

  “How was Kinga?”

  A flash of something he couldn’t read crossed her face before she hid it behind a bright smile. “We had a good chat.”

  Cash frowned. “Something to tell me, sweetness?”

  She shook her head. “Just girl talk. You’d be bored.”

  “You’re probably right.” He flipped her on her back, and a giggle broke from between her gorgeous lips. He rubbed the tip of his nose down hers and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

  “Can we go riding?” she said, a bright smile lighting up her face. “I haven’t been since… ” She broke off, a frown appearing. “Since we broke up.”

  Cash waggled a finger in front of her face. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said, tugging at the corners of her mouth until she giggled. “No more guilt, baby, okay? And yes, we can go riding tomorrow.”

  “Great. It’ll be good to get some downtime as I’ve got three articles due back with Pete next week.”

  “Just don’t work too hard. I don’t want you getting tired.” With a waggle of his eyebrows, Cash dipped his head and brushed the seam of her lips with his tongue. Like a blossoming flower, she opened her mouth, allowing him access. His kiss was soft at first, then insistent. Writhing seductively against him, she didn’t disappoint.

  “Again,” she demanded, her voice low and husky.

  Fuck. Could my woman be any more perfect?

  19

  Cash parked outside his mum’s house a few days later. With the European season around the corner, this would be the last time he saw her for a few weeks. He wouldn’t have time to come home between tournaments.

  “You’re quiet,” Natalia said as he cut the engine.

  He twisted in his seat. “I don’t know how to handle this. What do I tell her?”

  “The truth,” Natalia replied simply.

  Cash ran a hand over his face and sighed heavily. The previous day, when Mum had finally asked what had happened to Dad, Cash had bottled it, made an excuse, and hurriedly left. But he couldn’t hide from that conversation forever.

  He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and closed his eyes. Natalia’s warm hand rubbed soothing circles on his back.

/>   “It’s going to be okay, Cash. It’s natural for your mum to want to know what happened, especially now she’s recovering. You owe it to her to fill in the gaps. Stay true to the facts, answer any questions she has, and just be there for her.”

  He raised his head and met her gaze. Her blue eyes were soft and warm as they raked his face, looking for clues to his state of mind.

  “You’re pretty smart. You know that?”

  “I have my moments,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful nudge. “Now, stop procrastinating, and get your arse inside.”

  He grinned to himself as he climbed out of the car.

  Gracie greeted them at the front door. “Hey, you guys.” She gave Natalia a brief hug and patted his arm. “Ready?”

  “Sure,” he lied.

  “Good. Because she’s been bugging me all morning about what time you’re getting here.”

  A horrible, sickly feeling grew in his gut. How did he begin to tell his mother he’d killed her husband, his father? He didn’t have a clue. The walls began to close in, his pulse rate firing up.

  “Hey.” Natalia’s left hand curved round the back of his neck, and she squeezed.

  He kept his gaze averted.

  “Hey,” she repeated, more forcefully this time.

  Cash lifted his head and stared into her eyes. Gradually, his breathing slowed. “What if she hates me?” he whispered.

  He found himself in Natalia’s arms, her embrace tight and firm. His whole body began to relax as she murmured comforting words in his ear. He didn’t know what he’d do if she wasn’t by his side.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  He knitted his fingers through Natalia’s and set off towards his mother’s room.

  “Maybe you should do this alone, Cash,” Natalia said.

  “No,” he said. “I want you with me. I need you with me.”

  Her response was to squeeze his hand as he pushed open the door to Mum’s room.

  Tally detached her hand from Cash’s and hung around by the door as he wandered inside. Rachael’s bright smile greeted them both.

  “There you are,” she said, holding out her arms.

  Cash gave his mother a warm hug before settling into the chair next to the bed. He glanced over at where Tally was still hugging the doorframe. He frowned and cocked his head.

  “Tally, come and sit next to me,” Rachael said.

  Despite both mother and son clearly wanting her there, she couldn’t help feeling this was a conversation to which she didn’t belong. But as neither seemed to be giving her a choice, she wandered over and gave Rachael a kiss on the cheek.

  “You look wonderful,” Tally said. “Sorry that it’s been a few days since I came, but things have been pretty busy workwise.”

  “No matter.” Rachael waved her hand dismissively. “You’re here now. So,” she said, fixing her razor-sharp gaze on Cash, “are we having this talk now? Or are you going to keep avoiding the situation?”

  Tally glanced at Cash. In the whole time she’d known him, she’d never seen him this nervous. He tucked his chin into his chest, avoiding anyone’s gaze, and his hands were clenched so tightly his knuckles had turned white. As the atmosphere grew tense, Tally had a sudden urge to escape.

  “Why don’t I go and make us all a drink?” Tally said. “Leave you to it.”

  “No.” Rachael’s hand shot out, her fingers curving around Tally’s wrist. For someone who’d only recently come out of a thirteen-year coma, Rachael’s grip was surprisingly strong. The physio must have been working. “You’re family. And I want you here.”

  “So do I,” Cash said, finally lifting his head, his eyes imploring her to stay.

  “Okay,” she said, a little stunned at Rachael’s comment about her being family. It made her insides warm, and a fuzzy sensation spread across her skin.

  “That’s settled, then,” Rachael said, refocusing her attention on Cash.

  He squeezed his eyes shut, but when he opened them, they held a new resolve. Tally hoped confessing to his mother would enable Cash to finally let go of the past. To bury it, along with the terrible guilt he’d carried around all these years.

  Rachael reached for Cash’s hand as he began to talk. She didn’t take her eyes off him, and when Cash told her he’d been arrested, her fingers tightened on Tally’s arm, as though Rachael needed the extra support. When he finished, his shoulders sagged, and he bent his head low until Rachael gently lifted his chin.

  “Don’t you dare hang your head,” she said.

  “I killed him,” Cash said, his voice so quiet Tally had to strain to make out the words. “I’m responsible.”

  “You’re responsible for saving my life,” Rachael said firmly. “If you hadn’t done what you did, I wouldn’t be here.”

  The tension clawing at Tally’s shoulders evaporated. She could have hugged Rachael. Those simple words were exactly what Cash needed to hear. His hands trembled as he reached for his mother.

  “So you forgive me?”

  Rachael lifted her hand to his face, her touch soft and exploratory, almost as though she was using the contact to reconnect with the son she’d only known as a child, not the man before her.

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” A sob caught in her throat, and her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I’m the one at fault. I’m the reason for everything you had to go through.”

  “No.” Cash’s response was emphatic. He pressed Rachael’s hand to his cheek. “You are not to blame.”

  “I should have left him,” she whispered, her chin trembling with the effort of keeping her emotions in check.

  “He’d have come after you. He never would have let you go. You know that.”

  Rachael fell into Cash’s arms, and he held her close, gently rubbing her back as she sobbed, her head buried in his chest. Feeling like an interloper, Tally quietly got to her feet and tiptoed out of the room, leaving mother and son alone.

  She wandered into the kitchen and put the kettle on.

  “How’d it go?”

  Tally glanced over her shoulder to find Gracie leaning against the doorframe, hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, her brows pulled low.

  “Pretty well, considering. It can’t be easy hearing all that, knowing you weren’t there for your son at a time when he needed you the most.”

  Gracie moved into the room and pulled up a chair. “Poor Rachael.”

  Tally poured boiling water over instant-coffee granules and passed Gracie a mug. “They’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

  When Cash appeared about fifteen minutes later, his eyes were heavy, dark circles creating purple bruises beneath, and his mouth pinched in at the corners. He gave Tally a wan smile and nodded at her mug. “Can I get one of those?”

  He sank into a chair, his head flopping backwards almost as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it upright.

  Tally put his drink on the table and stood behind him. She rested her hands on his shoulders, massaging the tightly bunched muscles. “How is she?”

  “Sleeping. Gracie, would you mind giving us a minute?”

  “Of course,” Gracie said. She picked up her coffee and left the room. As soon as they were alone, Cash covered his face with his hands.

  A sense of alarm crept over her as she took a seat beside him. “What’s going on, ace?”

  He brought his head up slowly. “We’ve got a problem. A major fucking problem.”

  20

  Tally waited for Cash to expand on what the problem was, but as they drove away from Rachael’s house, he remained tight-lipped. When Tally had left them alone, Cash’s mum had been understandably upset, but they’d seemed okay. There was no point distracting him while he was driving. She would push him on the matter once they were home.

  The smell of warm bread greeted them the minute they opened the front door. She grinned as she remembered Anna had promised to bake baguettes that day. Tally had told her they were her favourite—particularly when slathered
in butter while the bread was still warm. Tally’s stomach grumbled appreciatively.

  “Hungry?” Cash said with a smirk. His mood had lightened the minute they’d walked through the front door.

  Perhaps he is overreacting about this supposed problem.

  “Starving. Can you smell that? Anna’s a genius.”

  They headed for the kitchen. Their timing was perfect because Anna was removing the bread from the oven as they walked in.

  “You are my favourite person in the whole world.” Tally lowered her head and sniffed. “They smell amazing.”

  “Hold it,” Anna said, slapping Tally’s hand away as she tried to grab one of the baguettes. “They’re too hot. Give it a few minutes.”

  Tally grumbled but did as she was told while Anna bustled about slicing cheese and popping butter into a dish. After a few minutes, she touched the top of the bread and nodded.

  “Okay, it’s all yours. I’ll leave you to it.”

  Tally dived in, tearing a baguette in half and breaking it open. Steam escaped from inside, and she spread butter on top, which immediately melted. She piled on the cheese and took a bite.

  “Oh my God,” she mumbled, mouth half-full. “Don’t you ever get rid of that woman.”

  Cash helped himself to the other half of the baguette. “It’s good to see you eat, sweetness.” He pinched her hip.

  “I have no willpower,” she lamented, making Cash laugh.

  “Good.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine. “Want one?”

  “Yes, please. Bread and cheese and wine. We could be back in Paris.”

  He placed a half-filled glass in front of her and wiped a crumb from the side of her mouth. “I can’t wait to take you back to Paris.”

  “Me either. Anyway, sit,” she said, pointing at the stool next to hers. “Talk to me.”

  He did as she asked, taking a deep slug of wine and another bite of his sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully as though playing for time.