Winning Ace: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 1)

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Winning Ace: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 1) Page 18

by Tracie Delaney


  Cash rolled his eyes. “You’re all fucking heart. Where’s Natalia?”

  “Jesus. If Rupe were here now…”

  “Screw you.”

  Brad laughed. “I wouldn’t worry. I’ve already filled him in on recent developments. He’s hoping to make it back in time for the final. And if he does, well, I pity you, buddy.”

  “I have to get to the final first, and then I’ll deal with Rupe. Is Natalia okay? I saw her having a spat with Kinga before the match started.”

  Brad frowned. “I never saw that.”

  “I noticed. I put you in charge of looking after my girl, and within five minutes, you’re distracted.”

  “Your girl? Sounding serious there, bud. Something you want to tell me?”

  Cash scrubbed a hand over his face. “Can’t get enough.”

  For a beat, Brad’s mouth froze open, and then his face broke into a huge grin. “Christ. Do we need to call a press conference and announce you’re off the market?”

  “No need for the press conference, but yeah, my screwing-around days are over. She’s everything I want.”

  “Wow.” Brad paused for a moment and then clapped him hard on the back. “I approve. I mean, seriously, she’s a total keeper.”

  Cash nodded. “I know. Pussy-whipped or what?”

  Brad shrugged. “Who cares?”

  “All I have to do now is stop Kinga scaring her away.”

  “I have a feeling she can handle Kinga. All she needs to know is that she has your support, and her confidence in dealing with Kinga will grow. As you asked, I left her waiting for you in the lounge down the hall.”

  “Thanks. I’m trying to keep her away from the press and the public as long as possible.”

  “It’s a good strategy. Let her settle in gently. Practice court at ten tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

  Cash nodded. He should be going straight to the press conference, but he wanted to see Natalia first. As he headed down the hall, his excitement grew. The thrill he’d felt on court knowing she was in the stands supporting him had been a hell of a rush. He’d fucking loved it. And the match being over so quickly was a major plus because it meant they could spend more time together.

  He opened the door to the lounge, and for a second, he struggled to comprehend what the fuck was going on. Natalia was lying on the ground with Kinga crouched over her.

  “Natalia?” he said, striding into the room.

  Kinga glanced over her shoulder, her face ashen. “Cash. God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

  Cash moved Kinga out of the way and dropped to his knees beside his girl. Her cheek was swollen with the beginnings of a dark bruise, and blood was dripping from the corner of her mouth. She appeared dazed though conscious.

  He gently wiped the blood away with his thumb and glared at Kinga. “What the fuck happened?”

  “We were arguing. Honestly, Cash, she gave as good as she got. I just lost my temper.”

  A cold blast of air almost knocked him sideways and, on instinct, he reached for Natalia’s hand. “You hit her?”

  “I didn’t mean it. Cash, please—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Kinga,” he bit out. “Not one more fucking word.”

  Flames of rage licked at his insides as he lifted Natalia into his arms and gently laid her on the sofa. He brushed a damp lock of hair from her forehead and kissed the corner of her mouth that wasn’t covered in blood.

  “Stay there, baby.”

  “Cash,” she whispered, clutching his arm. “Don’t.”

  Already, she knew him so well. “Too late, sweetness.”

  He gently removed her hand from his arm and spun around. Gripping Kinga by the elbow, he crossed the room and wrenched the door open.

  “You’re fired, Kinga.”

  She jerked her arm from his grip. “Cash, no! Let me explain.”

  “Forget it. I’m not interested. You’re done. You and me, we’re done. You fucked it up the minute you laid a finger on her.”

  Her clasping hands reached for his face, and he recoiled. If she touched him, he wouldn’t be held responsible for his actions.

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest and adopted a sullen look. “You can’t manage without me. You need me, Cash.”

  He looked her up and down and sneered. He didn’t know who this person was. She’d meant the world to him once, but now, he could barely stand to look at her. “Spare me the semantics, Kinga. And for the record, I don’t need you. I need her.”

  Kinga gripped the necklace she always wore and zigzagged the cross along the chain. “You’ve known her ten minutes. I’ve been by your side for eight years, Cash. Eight goddamn years. Are you really going to throw that away?”

  “I didn’t throw it away. You did.” He turned his back on her and strode across the room. Kneeling beside Natalia, he kissed her damp forehead. “Want to get out of here?” he whispered.

  “Yes, please.”

  He helped her up, supporting her weight as she leaned against him. Kinga was standing in the doorway, blocking their exit.

  “Move, Kinga,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. She hesitated before grudgingly stepping aside.

  “My lawyer will be in touch about dissolving our contract. And don’t even think about fighting me on this because I swear, if you do, I will ruin you.”

  Struggling to control emotions that were making it difficult to breathe properly, Cash called Isaac and told him to bring the car around to the players’ entrance. He’d have some explaining to do to the tournament director about why he wasn’t attending the post-match interviews, but too bad. Natalia was much more important.

  They managed to get to the car without being spotted by the press, and once inside, he tilted her face to the side and hissed. Her cheek was swollen, the bruise already coming out, and her lip was split.

  She covered his hand with her own. “I’m okay, Cash.”

  “No, you’re fucking not. She’s lucky I didn’t kill her.”

  Natalia caressed his face. “I have to take some of the blame. I knew I was winding her up, although I have to admit, a smack in the face was the last thing I expected.” She began to laugh then winced. “She’s got a bloody good right hook.”

  He glowered, his anger so raw it scared even him. “I don’t find this remotely funny. I am going to make her so fucking sorry for hurting you.”

  Natalia unhooked her seatbelt and shuffled over to his side. She nestled her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Cash, leave it. You’ve fired her. It’s done. And it is a little bit funny. Not as funny as your face, though.”

  He knew what she was trying to do—and it was starting to work. His pulse began to return to normal.

  “You should put your seatbelt back on,” he said, draping an arm over her shoulder, which prevented her from doing just that. “And I do not have a funny face.”

  She grinned up at him. “You don’t have my view, ace.”

  His lips twitched. “We need to get ice on your cheek. It’ll help reduce the swelling. Isaac, call ahead and get ice delivered to the apartment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Cash flicked the switch that separated the front of the car from the back. Natalia’s composure was like a soothing balm to his anger. Being in her calming presence helped dissipate the earlier rage he’d felt.

  “You played great today,” she said, snuggling into his side.

  “Early days. It helped knowing you were in the crowd.”

  She gazed up at him. Her innocence was beguiling, and he couldn’t help touching his lips to hers, but when she flinched, he pulled back.

  “Does it hurt very much?” He couldn’t keep the hard undertone from leaking into his voice.

  “A bit. It’ll soon heal.” She touched her cheek with her fingertips. “Cash, stop worrying. I’m tougher than I look.”

  “I never thought she’d do anything like that.”

  “Like I said, she’s obsesse
d with you. Women can be fearsome when we think someone’s after what’s ours.”

  “I’ve never been hers.”

  “In your head, that’s true. But in hers…?” Natalia sighed. “I think she’s ill, Cash. She seemed to think if I disappeared, suddenly the two of you would hook up. I agree with you firing her. I won’t lie—it’ll be less tense with her gone. But go easy. At least give her a severance payment and a good set of references.”

  Incredulous, he stared at Natalia. “She hit you. And fucking hard by the way your cheek is swelling. I can put up with the drunken attempts to seduce me, her smothering overprotectiveness, even her mood swings. But violence? She’s not getting a fucking penny from me.”

  “Cash—”

  “Enough, Natalia. The subject is closed.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  “Ouch.”

  Tally winced when Cash pressed the homemade icepack to her face. The cold from the ice was worse than the pain.

  “Keep it there for at least an hour.”

  “An hour. I’ll get frostbite.”

  “Stop bellyaching. If that cloth moves from your face, I’ll add ten minutes.”

  “Bully,” she muttered.

  Cash ignored her. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a healthy slug of golden liquid in a glass tumbler. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with the shock.”

  “I’m not in shock. Grouchy, yes. Shocked, no.”

  “Humour me.”

  She took the glass from him and sniffed. “I don’t like brandy.”

  “I don’t care. Drink.”

  She took a sip and swallowed then screwed her face up as the liquid burned her throat.

  “Urgh.”

  “Good girl.” He tucked the quilt around her and caressed her uninjured cheek with his knuckles. “I need to call my lawyer. Won’t be long.”

  Tally nodded. Even though she was the injured party, she couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for Kinga. Underneath all the bitchiness, Kinga had to be a very sad and lonely woman, although the atmosphere would certainly be lighter without her around.

  She pushed the covers aside, headed into the bathroom, and tipped the remains of the brandy down the sink. When she caught sight of her face in the mirror, she blanched. Wow, Kinga had really belted her. An angry welt had sprung up on her cheek, and the swelling made her face look lopsided. The cut on her lip wasn’t too bad, but it was bloody tender to touch. She’d have to use every make-up trick Em had shown her over the years if she was going to have any chance of hiding this. Unfortunately, it would look strange if she wore sunglasses and a scarf to an indoor tournament.

  “Natalia?”

  “In here.”

  Cash appeared behind her, a grim twist to his mouth. “What are you doing out of bed?”

  “Checking the damage.”

  “I’ve never come so close to hitting a woman.”

  “You would never have hit her.”

  He shrugged. “You’re right. I wanted to, for what she did to you. But then that would have made me just as bad as her.”

  “What did your lawyer say?”

  “He bitched and moaned and wittered on about watertight contracts, so I told him if he wasn’t capable of sorting the issue, I’d find another lawyer. Funnily enough, he then decided the contract wasn’t quite so watertight after all.”

  “What did he say about severance?”

  Cash moved in close and wrapped his arms around her waist. Their eyes met in the mirror, hers beseeching while his held a steely determination.

  He lightly touched her bruised face. “She gets nothing.”

  Tally dipped her chin, breaking eye contact. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Kinga was right. You’ve only known me ten minutes compared to her.”

  His soft sigh blew warm air on the back of her neck. “Natalia, look at me.”

  She slowly lifted her head.

  “You didn’t cause trouble. Kinga did. And as for the ‘ten minutes,’ as she put it, time is irrelevant. The few weeks we’ve known each other have been some of the best of my life. I love spending time with you. You’re good for me.”

  She smiled. “How so?”

  He turned her slowly in his arms, his hands resting low on her hips. “Well, for one thing, you don’t let me get away with murder.” He laughed. “In fact, apart from my mother, you’re the only woman I’ve ever listened to.”

  Her stomach fluttered with curiosity and anxiety in equal measure. She curved her arms around his neck, desperately trying to keep her voice even. “Tell me about her.”

  Cash’s eyes filled with pain, hurt, and more than a hint of anger, and he stepped away. Tally’s arms fell to her side. He picked up the ice pack and pressed it gently to her face.

  “It hasn’t been an hour yet. Keep this on,” he said softly. “For me.” And with that, he left her standing alone in the bathroom.

  She silently cursed her inquisitiveness, which had nothing to do with being a journalist and everything to do with wanting to assuage the pain she’d seen in his eyes.

  She kept the ice on her face for another fifteen minutes or so, until she couldn’t stand the burning cold any longer. She tossed the remains into the sink and wandered into the living room. The double doors to the balcony were open, and Cash was standing with his hands braced on the iron railings, his chin lowered to his chest. She found herself caught between two minds: give him space, or close the gap.

  Before she could make up her mind, his phone rang. As he walked inside to pick it up, he spotted her and stopped for a second. When he smiled warmly, relief swam through her veins. He swiped his phone off the table, and his smile fell. Relief turned to dread.

  Cash turned his back to her. “What’s up, Gracie?”

  There was a pause before Cash turned around, flashed a nervous glance Tally’s way, and disappeared into the bedroom, firmly closing the door behind him. Tally sagged into a nearby chair, her mind working overtime. The sensible part of her desperately wanted to rationalise the situation. If Gracie was the other woman, surely Cash would ignore her calls while he was with Tally. And then a thought hit her. What if Gracie was an ex, and they had kids together? That could be why he so readily accepted her calls yet refused to explain who she was. Cash fiercely protected his privacy. It wouldn’t be beyond his capabilities to keep the fact that he was a father out of the press.

  Her stomach rolled, and she crossed over to the minibar. Peering inside, she found a small bottle of Patron Silver Tequila, which was much more to her tastes, and this time, the drink was definitely for shock.

  When the bedroom door opened, her eyes locked with his.

  “Being with me turned you to hard liquor already?” he said, nodding at the empty tequila bottle on the coffee table.

  “Who’s Gracie?”

  Cash walked over to the kitchen and began opening cupboards. “Shall I make us something to eat, or order in? Unless you want to go out. Although––”

  “Cash. Stop it. Who is she?”

  He stopped moving but kept his back to her. The muscles of his shoulders and arms were bunched tight as he hunched over the kitchen worktop. The longer he remained silent, the more scared she became. Eventually, he turned around although he kept his eyes downcast.

  “We’ve had this conversation, Natalia. I can’t tell you. Not yet.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  His head snapped up. “Good God, no. That’s not it.”

  “Is she an ex? Do you have kids together?”

  His eyes widened, and then he chuckled. “Kids? No, sweetness, I don’t have any kids.”

  “Then what is it? Cash, you’re scaring me.”

  He strode over to her and gathered her into his arms. “Don’t be scared. There really is nothing to be worried about.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me?”

  He leaned back, studying her face. “Trust me, please. Gracie means nothing to me. At least, not in the way you think. I’ve told you thi
s already.”

  “If that’s true, then your reticence to tell me about her makes no sense.” She tugged out of his arms and grabbed her shoes.

  “Where are you going?”

  “For a walk. I need some fresh air.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No. I need space to think. Space from you.”

  “Natalia, please.”

  She inwardly acknowledged the panic leaching into his voice but refused to weaken. She always caved in, but not this time. She slung her bag diagonally over her shoulder and slammed the door behind her.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Cash stared at the closed door for a couple of minutes. In his arrogance, he never thought Natalia would actually walk out on him, but despite his despair, he couldn’t help a small smile creeping across his lips. The more she pushed him away, the more he wanted to pull her close. Ever since he’d encouraged her sexually, she’d flourished in and out of the bedroom, almost as though she’d been a bird trapped within a steel cage and now was flying free. It was a joy to watch.

  He fought the urge to go after her. Unlike when she’d left the hotel in Paris, he doubted she’d run. Giving her the space she’d asked for was the best way to get her to come back on her own terms, to give her a sense of control. He cursed Gracie’s untimely phone call, but now that he’d explained about Natalia, at least she’d text before calling unless it was a real emergency.

  He picked up his phone and spotted a text from Brad confirming his opponent in the next day’s match, Hayden James, an eighteen-year-old up-and-coming American. Cash had seen him play a few times, although this would be the first time they’d met on tour. Hayden had plenty of raw talent but wasn’t disciplined enough and got easily frustrated, which usually led to a significant increase in unforced errors and wildly inaccurate shots.

  He opened the link Brad had sent which had footage of Hayden playing. Once he’d seen enough, he sat on the balcony and sketched out a brief game plan he could go through with Brad at tomorrow’s practice session.

  He finished the plan and tossed the pad to one side. Restless, he leaned over the balcony. He wanted Natalia back with him. He missed her, but as he glanced up and down the riverside path, she was nowhere to be seen. He began to pace. Patience had never been his strong point. He sipped at a glass of water, although he’d rather have a whiskey. Relieved when he heard a light tap on the door, he dashed across the room and flung it open, an apology tumbling from his lips.

 

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