“I think the feeling is mutual. I shall be having a word with my daughter about the importance of sharing.”
He leaned down and kissed Natalia, hard. “How about we go on a long walk, get lots of fresh air so she’s knackered and sleeps right through?”
Natalia gave him an innocent smile. “Why, ace? What have you got planned?”
He carefully put Darcey’s car seat on the floor and caught her hips, pulling her close. “You, me, a bottle of wine, and zero clothes.”
A slight tremor ran through her body, and his stomach flipped. He still found it an enormous turn-on that she was so affected by him.
“Well, then,” she said, lifting her eyes to his. “What are we waiting for?”
After a few days of country air, Natalia began to relax. She regained some colour in her cheeks, the worry lines across her forehead faded, and her shoulders spent a lot less time around her ears.
The countryside around the Cotswolds was some of the most beautiful in England, with green pastures and rolling hills. It was impossible not to feel carefree in a place like that. Their days were idyllic. They wandered around quaint little towns filled with thatched cottages and lunched at one of an abundance of cosy tearooms. Nights were spent locked in each other’s arms.
“Maybe we should buy a place in the area,” Cash said on their fourth day as they wandered hand in hand beside the River Coln. “Think how nice it would be to get out of London into all this. It’s only a couple of hours’ drive, and Darcey would love it as she gets older. We could even move the horses over from Marcie’s place in Ireland. There must be loads of liveries around here.”
She turned to him, her face flushed with excitement. “Really? I think that’s a fantastic idea.”
He returned her smile. “I’ll get an estate agent onto it.”
“Try not to buy a mansion, ace.”
He flashed her an overly innocent look, to which she rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Why do I bother? You’ll do what you want anyway. I give up trying to control you.”
“Just as well, sweetness. It always was a waste of time.”
Cash woke with a start, his phone blaring into the silence of the night. His eyes were stinging from too little sleep. He opened them a crack. It took a moment to figure out where he was. The shadows in the room were unfamiliar.
Beside him, Natalia turned over, but not before making a frustrated noise at being woken so early.
Cash closed his eyes again and felt around until his hand located his phone.
“Yeah,” he mumbled as he answered.
“Cash?”
As he heard William’s voice, he sat bolt upright. Fear congealed in his chest. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s time. Can you come?”
“Already?” he whispered, his stomach churning with an awful sick feeling. He didn’t want to hear it. Shit, he wasn’t ready to lose her. He’d had weeks to prepare for this moment, yet it could have been years, and it wouldn’t have made a difference.
“I’m so sorry,” William said, his voice breaking up. “Especially as it’s your honeymoon and everything.”
Cash fumbled for Natalia’s arm and gave her a gentle shake. She stirred, but when he jolted her harder, she sat up. One look at his face and she read the situation. He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly as if that would make this horror go away.
“We’re on our way,” he said as Natalia leaped out of bed and began packing their things. “Where are you?”
“The hospice. I’ll text you the satnav details.”
“She didn’t want to go into a hospice,” Cash said.
“I know.” William’s voice broke. “She’s suffering, Cash. She begged me to bring her here.”
Cash dug his fingernails into his palm until he drew blood. The physical pain was a welcome distraction from the anguish in his chest.
“You tell her to wait for us. We’re coming.” He tossed the phone onto the bed, and for a minute, he sat there, stunned, unable to move.
“Cash.” Natalia knelt in front of him, her face wet with tears. She rested her hands on his thighs. “Let’s go, ace. Kinga needs you.”
His head dropped into his hands, and he began to cry. Natalia climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “I know, babe. I know.”
He gave himself five minutes, not a second more. He’d have to do the rest of his grieving later. At that moment, he had to man the fuck up. The last thing Kinga needed was him falling apart in front of her. That would make him a dick, given what she was about to face, and he’d spent his life being a dick until Natalia had saved him from himself. He refused to regress.
He washed his face while Natalia changed and dressed Darcey, who was not impressed at being woken before her normal get-up time, and she was unusually grizzly as they put her in the car. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she was picking up on their tension and letting it out the only way she knew how.
The roads were empty apart from the odd lorry whose driver was using the quietness to make headway. They didn’t speak much, but on occasion, Natalia would touch his arm or squeeze his knee, her way of letting him know she was there, that she was feeling the same.
Two hours later, Cash turned the car in to the driveway of the hospice. After he reversed into a space, Natalia grabbed the door handle to get out, but Cash stopped her.
“I need a minute.” He took a few deep breaths, trying to slow his thundering heart and the terrible churning in his stomach.
“Take as long as you need, ace,” she said.
“Are you sure you want to come in?” He knew how hard she found it to be around someone with the same illness she’d lost her father to. Seeing Kinga would bring back all those horrendous memories.
She gave him a hard look. “Yes.”
He nodded, her vehement response telling him he’d have no chance of persuading her otherwise.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
As he opened the door to Kinga’s room, he realised no amount of preparation would have helped him cope.
It had been six days since his wedding—six days since he’d seen her, and the Kinga he’d known from the age of twenty was no longer there. The determined, tenacious, sparky, and sometimes downright annoying-as-fuck woman who had turned his talent for playing tennis into a money-making machine was gone, and in her place lay an imposter.
He slammed a hand over his mouth to stop the gasp of horror that clawed at his throat, desperate to get out. Natalia’s tight grip on his arm told him she felt the same and was trying to hang onto her emotions, because if they lost it now, there was no coming back.
William glanced over his shoulder, but he could barely raise a smile. His face had sunken in on itself, the flesh baggy around his eyes, his skin tone grey. “Thanks for coming.”
Cash had to force himself into that room when all he really wanted to do was run. He didn’t want to remember Kinga like this. But he had no choice. She wanted him there, needed him there, and dammit, he would be there.
“Is she asleep?” Cash said as he fell into a chair.
Her breathing was uneven and shallow, and a horrible rattle sounded in her chest every time her lungs filled with air.
“For now,” William said. “They’ve given her some pain relief.”
Natalia placed Darcey’s car seat on one of the chairs and went to hug William. His face crumpled as she put her arms around him.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “What do you need, William?”
“This. For you both to be here.”
There was nothing more to say, and the room fell silent, but that made the terrible rattling in Kinga’s chest seem even louder. Cash wanted to slam his hands over his ears, to make this all go away. The irony of his baby daughter beside him, her life journey beginning while Kinga’s was ending far too early, was fucking awful.
Hours passed, and Cash began to fear Kinga would never wake up. In a way, he wanted that for her—to let her slip a
way without pain, without having to look at their faces, unaware of the terrible aftermath that would follow her death.
There, he’d thought it. Death. Because that was the fact of the matter. No point dressing the fucker up. Kinga was going to die. The finality of it all suddenly hit him, and he staggered to his feet, muttered, “Won’t be a minute,” and launched himself outside.
As he closed the door behind him, his legs gave way, and he sank to the floor. For all their problems over the years, he fucking loved that woman. He wouldn’t be where he was if it weren’t for Kinga. Sure, since he’d met Natalia they’d had a lot of issues and said things that couldn’t be unsaid, but the fact that he’d forgiven her time and again told its own story, even if it had been mainly at Natalia’s insistence.
He expected Natalia to follow him, but he should have given her more credit. Her wedding vows had said it all. She knew when to bring him close and when he needed space. She’d always been able to tune in to his needs because she was inside his head and his heart. She knew him as well as he knew himself, and by leaving him alone right then, she was proving that once more.
After about ten minutes, Natalia poked her head around the door. “Cash, she’s awake and asking for you.”
He clambered to his feet, but before he could step inside, Natalia put her arm out. “I know you can do this,” she whispered, low enough so her voice wouldn’t drift into the room. “Be strong for her. Fall apart with me. That’s the way this has to go down.”
Jesus, what a woman she was. He brushed a hand along her jaw and forced a smile. “I don’t deserve you.”
“I know.”
The smile he gave her then was genuine, and as she dropped her arm so he could pass, he took comfort in her strength.
A brief flicker of life appeared in Kinga’s eyes as he walked over to her bed, but then the light faded. She tried to lift a hand, but the physical effort was too great.
“Hey,” she said in a rasping voice that sounded nothing like Kinga’s usual smooth, confident tone.
“Hey yourself.” He wagged a finger at her. “The things you’ll do to get your own way. You’ve wrecked my honeymoon. I hope you know that.”
Her lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. “My timing has always been impeccable.” She winced then, and her body shifted to the side.
“Are you in pain?”
She nodded and squeezed her eyes together, her breath coming in short pants.
“I’ll get someone, darling,” William said.
“No. Don’t,” she said. “Not yet. I don’t want to be out of it again yet.”
Cash’s lips pressed together in a slight grimace as he found himself stuck between two places, neither of which were appealing. But then his eyes softened, and he leaned across to kiss her cheek. “Stubborn old cow,” he said, which forced a brief laugh from Kinga that sounded more like a cough.
“Have you brought the baby?” she said, trying to lift her head to catch Natalia’s eye. When Cash nodded, she sighed. “Can you hold her up? I want to see her one last time.”
Pain lanced through Cash, and he turned away before Kinga could see the tears that had welled up.
“Here she is,” Natalia said, instantly understanding he couldn’t speak right at that moment. She handed Darcey to him, and he gazed into his daughter’s eyes as he tried to get a hold of himself.
“She’s going to be a heartbreaker,” Kinga said. “Like her daddy.”
Cash met her eyes, and as he did, her face took on a peaceful look. She beckoned him to lean forward as her voice began to fade.
“I love you,” she whispered. “Please don’t forget me.”
“Never.” The tears he’d tried so hard to hold back broke free. “Never.”
43
Tally made sure Meredith was comfortably seated before heading back to the entrance of the ballroom at the Dorchester. Two years had passed since the first time she’d entered this room on the night of Cash’s foundation gala—a relatively short time, yet such a lot had changed. No longer was she on the periphery, hoping to catch a glimpse of her idol and at the same time dreading someone would discover the duplicity of hiding her press pass so she could get close to journo-phobe, Cash Gallagher.
Now she was Mrs Cash Gallagher, mother to a seven-month-old baby who made her remember every day how lucky she was.
The Dorchester had done them proud. The room was tastefully decorated but not too ostentatious, given the reason for the event.
“Memories, baby?” Cash said, curving a warm hand around her waist. He brushed her hip with his thumb, a habit he’d developed when they’d first met as a way to reassure her, and she loved it as much now as she had then.
“Yeah. Good ones.”
“Do you think Kinga would like it?” Cash said, nodding inside the packed room. Every table was full of people anxious for a little piece of her husband.
Tally leaned her head on his shoulder. “She would. You’ve done her proud, Cash.”
He heaved a sigh. She wasn’t sure if it was relief that after six months of hard slog they’d achieved so much, or the realisation that he would be spending the next four hours making small talk—something he hated doing—in an effort to get people to donate to the cancer charity he’d set up in Kinga’s name.
“Time to face the masses,” he said, pulling a face.
“Don’t worry, ace,” she said, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek. “You pay the penance this evening and get your reward tonight. Oh, and just to be clear, you’re going to need to bring your A game.”
She swept a hand over his arse and glanced up at him to see if her promise had had the desired effect. It had. Cash’s mouth was parted, his cheeks tinged with a hint of red.
He bent down, and his lips touched the shell of her ear as he whispered, “Be careful, sweetness. I know I’ve matured over the years, but I’m not averse to deciding this event can manage without its host and hostess for an hour.”
She laughed. “Only an hour? Slacker. Come on, you know how I love to hear you speak.” She put on an exaggerated shudder. “Turns me on big time.”
Before Cash could reply, she tugged on his hand and stepped into the room.
Tally lay in Cash’s arms later that night, sated and happier than she’d ever thought possible. The event had been a huge success, taking an enormous weight off both their shoulders, and they’d secured enough funding to take them right through the following year, which was more than both of them had hoped for.
“Are you still awake?” Cash whispered after they’d been lying in the darkness for a few minutes.
“Mmm,” she said, halfway between sleep and unconscious bliss.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“No more charities,” she mumbled.
He chuckled. “I think two is enough. No, it was about me. Well, us. Well, tennis actually.”
That caught her attention. Cash hadn’t mentioned anything about playing again since he’d won the Estoril tournament at the end of April, almost eight months earlier. Since then, their lives had been overtaken by Darcey’s birth, Kinga’s passing, and then setting up the charity. She’d often been on the cusp of bringing it up, knowing he still had years ahead of him if that was what he chose to do, but in the end, she’d decided he had to make the first move.
And apparently, he’d just made it.
She reached over and switched on the bedside lamp. The lighting was subtle, but she still had to squint until her eyes adjusted.
“I’m all ears, ace,” she said, sitting up and crossing her legs.
Cash turned onto his side, one hand propping up his head. “I think I want to go back on the circuit, but,” he said, holding his hand up as she began to interrupt, “we have to make this decision together. Travelling with a baby is not going to be easy. I’m seriously out of shape, at least the type of shape I need to be in to achieve success on court, and if we decide I’m doing this, it’s going to take up huge amounts o
f time, which will cut into the time spent with you and Darcey.”
Tally motioned for him to sit up, which he did. She took both of his hands in hers. “See these? They’re amazing. I’ve always loved your hands, but even more so now. They hold our baby when she needs comforting, they bathe her, dress her, play with her. And when you put them on me, they make me feel so good.” She glanced up for effect and saw that he was grinning, even though she could tell he didn’t know where she was going with this yet.
“But you know what these do best, ace? They hold a tennis racket, which allows you to perform miracles on court. I miss watching you play—more than I have the words to explain. I understand it’s not going to be easy, but we’ll work it out. Plenty of others do. I won’t be the first wife of a tennis player who hauls their kid around the circuit.”
He raised his eyebrows and offered her a questioning gaze. “So we’re doing this?”
She brought his hands to her lips and kissed every one of his fingers in turn. “We are.”
Epilogue
Tally dabbed her forehead with one of Rupe’s handkerchiefs with his initials stitched into the corner in cobalt blue. The edges of her mouth twitched as she tried to stop the giggle that threatened to break from her throat. Rupe and his pretentious crap, as Cash called his best friend’s fondness for old-fashioned things, always brought a smile to her face.
“I can see you laughing,” Rupe said, swiping back his handkerchief and stuffing it into his pocket. “I know I’m a dying breed.”
“Dying?” Em said, giving him an incredulous look. “The chances of finding another one like you, my dear Rupert Fox-Whittingham, is as likely as a bloody dodo sitting at my feet and begging for a bone.”
“No need to get personal,” Rupe said, playfully sticking his tongue out at Em.
“Jesus,” grumbled Brad. “Can’t you two fuck and get it over with?”
“Ew,” Em said. “Incest or what. Besides, have you forgotten…?” She waved her left hand in front of Brad’s face, displaying a sparkling ruby-and-diamond ring. “Two months to the wedding.”
Grand Slam: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 3) Page 25
