Losing Game: A Winning Ace Novel (Book 2)

by Tracie Delaney

  “You promised to try it on. Trust me.” She thrust the dress into Tally’s reluctant hands and pointed to the fitting room. It took Tally about five minutes to figure out how to even get the damned thing on, but when she did, she glanced in the mirror and gasped.

  “Em,” she croaked. “You there?”

  “I’m coming in.” Em slipped around the curtain, being careful not to expose Tally to the whole shop. “Oh, wow. Fuck, I’m good.”

  “I can’t pull this off,” Tally said, tugging the parted material over her exposed breasts.

  “Yes, you can.” Em turned her around. “A bit of tape here and there, and you’re good to go.”

  “But it’s so… so…”

  “Hot.”

  “I was going for tarty.”

  “Rubbish,” Em scoffed. “You’ve got an amazing figure, Tally. I’ve told you this, like, a hundred times, and I, for one, am glad to see a bit of meat back on your bones. When you’re ninety and wrinkled, you’ll wish you’d shown your curves off a bit more while you still could.”

  As Tally handed over Cash’s credit card, she could have sworn the assistant flashed a look of amazement as she wrapped the dress in tissue paper, as though to say Really, honey?

  Tally was inclined to agree.

  15

  Every year that Cash had played the Monte-Carlo Masters, he’d always jogged to and from practice. That day, for the first time, he grabbed a cab back to the harbour. Exhaustion swamped him. Two months off the court had put a serious dent not only in his fitness but also his sharpness—how well he saw the ball. All of it, bound together, made him dread the next week.

  Brad had killed him on court, and Jamie had murdered him in the gym afterwards. His body ached all over. He’d need an ice bath and a massage to stand any chance of moving the next day, let alone being able to do it all over again.

  Climbing up to Rupe’s boat was a feat of sheer willpower. It had to be, because he had nothing left in his legs. He managed to make it back to the stateroom without bumping into Rupe, who loved it when Cash struggled physically. It made Rupe feel better about his own piss-poor fitness levels.

  Cash staggered into the stateroom and dropped his bag beside the door. Natalia was lying on the couch, reading a book, her feet resting on the arm. She glanced up and smiled, one of those smiles that instantly lifted his spirits.

  “Hey, how was it?”

  He moved her legs, wincing as he eased himself into the space next to her, and placed her feet in his lap. “Fucking awful.”

  “Want me to run you a bath?”

  Cash shook his head. “I need an ice bath.”

  She pulled a face. “Rather you than me.”

  “It’s the only way I’ll be able to move tomorrow.”

  “Brad didn’t go easy on you, then?”

  “I think he upped the ante on purpose. He’s certainly made his point.” Cash painfully climbed to his feet, already feeling stiffness in his hamstrings. “Best get this over with.”

  He called down to the kitchen and asked for a couple of sacks of ice to be brought up. While he waited, he filled the bath halfway with cold water. When the ice arrived, he tipped it in, stripped down to his boxers, gritted his teeth, and stepped into the tub. He hissed and clenched his jaw as the freezing water bit into his skin. His teeth began chattering, and after five minutes, he couldn’t feel his feet.

  Natalia poked her head around the bathroom door, her expression one of concern. “Cash, what do you need when you get out?”

  “Warm clothes and a hot drink.”

  “How long do you have to stay in there?”

  “Fifteen long fucking minutes.”

  She disappeared for a few moments. When she returned, she sat on the edge of the bath and began massaging his shoulders. He groaned and pressed closer to her. “That feels good.”

  As soon as the alarm went off, Cash flew out of the bath and grabbed a towel.

  “I’ve put some clothes on the bed,” Natalia said. “I’ll pop to the kitchen and fetch you a coffee. Get under the covers.”

  “Now you’re talking,” he said.

  She shook her head slightly. “You have a one-track mind.”

  By the time she returned five minutes later with a large mug of coffee, Cash had burrowed under the quilt. His teeth had stopped chattering, but his body still felt cold.

  “Here,” she said, passing him the mug. “Can’t you take a hot shower?”

  “No. I need to warm up slowly.”

  “I’ve never seen you take an ice bath after training.”

  He sipped his coffee. “I don’t usually need to. Brad’s a bastard.”

  She laughed. “He’s got your best interests at heart. How was it really?”

  He grimaced. “I’m not as sharp as I should be.” When worry crossed her face, he squeezed her hand. “There’s plenty of time. How was your day?”

  “Yeah, good. We got Em a dress for her date tonight.”

  He waggled his eyebrows playfully. “And what did you get?”

  She tapped the side of her nose with her forefinger. “You’ll have to wait and see. I left your credit card on the dresser.”

  “Thanks,” he said, making a mental note to get her added to his account and have a second card sent out. He finished the coffee, put the mug on the bedside table, and flung the bedcovers to one side. “Get in. You’ll have me warmed up in no time.”

  Rupe had agreed to go ashore for the evening, and with Emmalee on her date, Cash and Natalia would be alone. She was getting ready in Emmalee’s room because, apparently, she needed Emmalee’s help to get into the dress. She still hadn’t shown it to Cash, but he hoped she’d gone with less is more.

  He headed up on deck, still stiff but not as sore as earlier. The ice bath and deep-tissue massage must have been working their magic. Spring had arrived in the Mediterranean, and he’d asked the staff to set up a table outside where they could dine and appreciate the spectacular view of Monte Carlo.

  He corked a bottle of champagne––one glass wouldn’t hurt too much––and took a sip. For once, Rupe’s taste lived up to his bank balance. Cash glanced at the label. Jesus, Rupe had gone all out.

  A gentle cough sounded behind him, and he turned around. It took a moment or two to find his voice. Rupe wasn’t the only one who’d gone all out.

  “Wow.” His breathing quickened as Natalia walked slowly towards him.

  She grazed her teeth over her bottom lip. “Is it too tarty?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  The dress was the colour of a fine burgundy, rich and dark. It plunged down to her navel, giving him a good eyeful of her magnificent cleavage, and a long side slit showed off one very shapely leg. Around the middle, a thin gold belt cinched her waist. She’d left her hair loose and kept her makeup light. Every part of him ached to touch her.

  “Come here.” He held out his hand. She put her silver clutch bag on the table and took it. “You look stunning. If this is what you come back with, I’ll send you shopping more often.” He pulled her into his arms, and they began to dance around the deck.

  “There’s no music,” she said. He began to hum out of tune, and she laughed. “Oh well, I guess you can’t be good at everything.”

  He chuckled and spun her around. He loved to dance. It reminded him of happier times with Mum, before everything turned to shit. He shook the negative thought from his head. His mother would dance again. He was certain of it.

  “I missed you today,” he said, pressing his cheek to hers.

  “Missed you too.”

  He pulled back and tilted his head to the side. “But you had a good time with Emmalee?”

  “We had a great time.”

  “Are you hungry? Rupe’s had the staff go the extra mile.”

  “Very.” Her lips brushed his ear. “And not only for food.”

  Cash’s stomach was tied in knots. He could barely force the food down, what with Natalia dressed in the sexiest outfit he’d ever
seen, and the fact she kept rubbing her calf against his leg and touching his hand, his arm, his face. All he wanted was to rip the damned dress off and make love to her right there on the deck. He was about to suggest it when she gave him a flirtatious glance.

  “Do you want your present?”

  He slowly raked a gaze over her body. “I thought I already had it.”

  “I bought you something else. With my own money.” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, the bank’s money. But it’s kind of the same thing.”

  A rush of excitement made his pulse jump. “I never get gifts.”

  Melancholy darkened her face. “That’s so sad.”

  He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m about to get one.”

  “You are.” She pushed her chair back and walked across to the table where she’d left her bag. Intrigued, Cash followed. She pulled out a small square box and held it in the palm of her hand. “Open it,” she urged, pressing her palm closer to him.

  Cash took hold of the box and flipped the lid. Inside, nestled on dark-blue satin, lay a pair of silver cufflinks in the shape of tiny tennis rackets. “Oh, wow, baby. They’re great.”

  “Turn them over. Look on the inside.”

  He did as she asked, and his heart flipped. She’d had them inscribed with the letter C intertwined with four points of the letter N. He lifted his eyes to hers.

  “I love them.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Yes.” He removed the cufflinks he’d put on earlier and replaced them with the ones Natalia had bought, thrilled with the thought behind the gift. His hands curved around her waist, and he pulled her towards him. “Why didn’t you come into my life sooner?”

  She gave the secret smile she kept only for him. “Because you weren’t ready for me until now.”

  16

  The buzz of the crowd was as loud as Tally remembered from the last match she’d attended, or maybe even more so. There was an enormous amount of interest in Cash’s first match on the circuit in almost two months. He’d received a bye for the first round, and this second-round match against a fairly unknown qualifier would usually see the stadium about three-quarters full, maximum. But not that day. Even corporate ticket holders had managed to drag themselves away from the lure of the free bar.

  Tally’s right leg jiggled vigorously until Em clamped down on her knee.

  “You’re doing my head in, babes. Chill out. He’ll smash it.”

  “I feel sick,” Tally said.

  “Don’t you dare ruin my first-ever tennis match by throwing up. I’m super excited.”

  Rupe laughed. “You’re all heart, Em.”

  She grinned and dug her elbow in his ribs. “Don’t you side with her.”

  Tally tuned out their banter as she scanned the stadium. She winced at the occasional handwritten sign that told the world what that particular person thought of her boyfriend. Jealousy flared within her—pointless jealousy that Cash did nothing to encourage but her body involuntarily expressed anyway. At least she was smart enough to know that listening to tabloid gossip was a surefire way of wrecking a relationship. It would be easy to believe the mindless lies they printed. Tabloids had caused a split in more than one celebrity relationship by identifying a single thread with little substance and turning it into a sensational exclusive.

  Tally continued scanning the crowd, more to take her mind off the upcoming match than out of any real interest. A woman directly opposite wearing a large fawn-coloured hat drew Tally’s attention. Those poor spectators behind her. They wouldn’t be able see a thing.

  She’d half turned away when something made her take a closer look. A good portion of the woman’s face was hidden behind enormous Jackie O sunglasses, but even so, she seemed vaguely familiar.

  No! It couldn’t be. Tally leaned forward, as if the extra six inches would make all the difference, and squinted. Jesus. She was right.

  “Rupe,” she said a little more sharply than she intended, interrupting his ribbing of Em.

  “What’s up?”

  “Directly ahead,” Tally said, pointing her chin. “Woman in the big hat. Tell me I’m wrong and that isn’t Kinga.”

  “You mean Rocky Balboa’s had the nerve to show up?” Em said, peering in the same direction as Rupe.

  “Fuck me,” Rupe said. “It is. Christ, that woman’s got more front than Blackpool prom. She’d better hope Cash doesn’t spot her. Knowing him, he’ll aim a hundred-mile forehand right at her head.”

  A sense of dread crept across her skin. What the hell is Kinga doing here? Tally instinctively knew it wasn’t to watch a game of tennis. No, Kinga wanted to see Cash. But for what reason?

  Nervous fluttering in her abdomen gave her an empty, hollow feeling. Not only did she have to manage her fear of Cash bombing in his first match back on the tour, but now she had the additional worry about what Kinga’s agenda might be. Tally stared in her direction, willing her to glance over, but Kinga’s gaze was firmly fixed on the corner of the court—the same corner Tally expected Cash to appear from in about five minutes.

  “Don’t sweat it, darling,” Rupe said with a comforting squeeze of her hand.

  “Don’t sweat what?” Brad said as he and Jamie slipped into their seats. “You panicking again, Tally?”

  Rupe glanced over his shoulder. “Kinga’s here.”

  Jamie and Brad shared a look.

  “You’re fucking kidding,” Brad said.

  “Wish I was. Twelve o’clock.”

  He peered over Tally’s shoulder, an expelled hiss sounding in her ear. “Shit, that’s all we need. If Cash spots her, it’ll turn his concentration to shit.”

  “Can’t we get her ejected or something?” Em said.

  “On what grounds? This is just like Kinga. She never did know when to quit.”

  Tally twisted in her seat. “How’s he doing?”

  Brad pulled a face. “Honestly, hon, I’m not sure how this is going to go. Problem is we’ve only had a week to work with him, and when you don’t play for a while, it’s the sharpness that goes. You end up a millisecond behind where you need to be, and that’s all it takes at this level. Granted, his opponent is a qualifier, but often they’re worse.”

  “Why?”

  Brad shrugged. “Nothing to lose.”

  She swallowed down her fear. Once more, her gaze fell on Kinga, but as the players came on court and the noise level increased significantly, Tally forced herself to look away.

  As Cash appeared, dressed in his customary black, his eyes met Tally’s, and his lips twisted into a wry smile, a sure sign he wasn’t one hundred per cent confident. Even though Brad had told her he wasn’t in the best shape, seeing it for herself was much worse. She wouldn’t be teasing Cash about overconfidence that day.

  “You got this,” she mouthed and gave an encouraging smile.

  His face softened, and he winked before waving to the crowd. Tally watched as he went through his normal routine. He placed his racket bag beside him, laid a towel over the chair, and set up various bottles of liquid, each one containing a different set of nutrients.

  He took a sip of water, lifted out his first tennis racket, hit it against his hand to test the tension, and walked on court for the warm-up. The crowd cheered, whooped, and hollered, but Cash didn’t acknowledge them this time. Tally knew this look. He’d gone within himself, focused on the task ahead.

  It gave her hope.

  Cash won the toss and elected to serve. A hush descended on the crowd as he prepared to play the first game. He was a speed player: a couple of bounces of the ball, serve, win the point, and repeat. It was one of the reasons he was successful––opponents couldn’t deal with the pace at which he drove the game. And yet that day, Tally counted ten bounces of the ball before he served. She held her breath as he tossed the ball in the air, his back arching, tennis racket behind his head.

  He hit an ace—and acute relief hit her.

  He served out the game to love, and the whole match was over
in less than an hour. Tally scanned the crowd for Kinga, but she’d disappeared. Maybe she had just come to watch Cash play.

  “Is that it?” Em said. “I was hoping for a bit more.”

  “Longest hour of my life,” Tally said. “But thanks for wanting to stretch out my agony.”

  “Oh, you know what I mean, babes. What happens now?”

  “Wait for Cash to do his post-match interviews, then we get the hell out of here and go somewhere that will pour me a large glass of wine.”

  Jamie kissed her cheek. “Tell Cash well done from me, and I’ll see him on the practice court tomorrow.”

  “Aren’t you joining us?” Tally pushed her sunglasses on top of her head and squinted up at him.

  “I cannae today.” He winked. “Got a date. Fine wee lassie she is too.”

  Tally grinned at Jamie’s retreating back as she followed Brad and Rupe off court. She held onto Em’s hand to prevent her from skipping off after anything that caught her eye. Tally did not want to spend ages trying to track her friend down.

  “We’ll meet you in the lounge,” Brad said and then headed off towards the locker room.

  Tally nodded. “Okay.”

  “Don’t we get to go in the locker room, too?” Em asked in a disappointed tone.

  “No.”

  “Shame. Cash’s opponent was pretty hot.”

  Tally glanced over her shoulder. “One man not enough?” she said, thinking of the student doctor Em had been seeing pretty much every day since they arrived.

  “Keeping my options open, babes.”

  Tally shook her head. Em was a law unto herself.

  They arrived at the players’ lounge, and Tally pushed open the door. As she walked inside, her gaze fell on the person sitting opposite. A wave of despair swept through her chest. Tally tried to find her voice, but she beat her to it.

  “Hello, Natalia,” Kinga said.

  17

  Tally fished around, trying to make a sound—any sound—while Rupe sneered at Kinga.

  “Who did you screw to get in here?” he said, his hands resting low on his hips.