The plane began its descent into Heathrow, and Cash automatically tightened his seatbelt. Christ, he hated flying at the best of times, but takeoff and landing were a particular form of torture. His stomach sank when the altitude changed, and he closed his eyes and gripped the arms of his chair, willing the plane to land safely. And soon.

His muscles ached, but the adrenaline still coursing through his veins after his fourth Australian Open win made the soreness worth it. A short break, a couple of massages, and he’d be ready to go again.

In the five weeks he’d been away, Natalia had been on his mind more often than he liked to admit, making the period of time since he’d seen her on Christmas Day feel more like five months. He’d purposely not contacted her while he’d been away because it had been crucial to keep his concentration as much as possible, and hearing her low, sexy voice would have made that even more challenging.

The plane touched down with a bump, and he cursed. It took a few minutes for the gangway to connect to the door before he was whisked into the airport and through security. A few photographers snapped some shots, but he kept facing forwards. Isaac was an excellent blocker, preventing any really good pictures from being taken. Tired and cranky, all Cash wanted was a hot shower, a short nap, and to see Natalia.

Outside the VIP entrance of Terminal Five, he quickly climbed into his waiting car. As soon as the doors closed, he heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck for that.”

“Straight to the Dorchester, please,” Kinga instructed the driver.

His eyes fell shut, and he laid his head against the seat. He rarely slept properly on a plane, and he only had a few hours to get some rest before picking Natalia up for their date. He couldn’t fucking wait.

“Cash?”

He cranked open one eye and squinted at Kinga. “Yeah.”

“What time do you want to fly to Belfast tomorrow?”

“I’m staying in London and flying straight to Rotterdam on Saturday.”

Kinga stared at him. She folded her arms across her chest. “Since when? Cash, you have got to keep me informed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do I, now?” he said, keeping his voice steady.

“Yes. How am I supposed to do my job if you won’t communicate?”

He decided to ignore her and closed his eyes again, his head lolling against the headrest.

“What the hell is going on, Cash?” She shook his arm. “Is this something to do with that idiotic reporter you’ve been mooning over for weeks? If so, can you hurry up and screw her so we can all get back to normal?”

He clenched his jaw and slowly turned his head to face her. “Let me make one thing clear. We may be friends, but you are still an employee. Be very careful, Kinga.”

Defiance blazed across her face. “You wouldn’t know what to do without me. I control your life, Cash.”

His body tensed. Leaning forwards, he tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Pull over at the first opportunity please, mate.”

“Oh, I see,” Kinga said with a sneer. “Going to storm off in a little strop, are you?”

The car slowed to a stop and Cash climbed out. Isaac climbed out too, but Cash indicated for him to get back in the car.

“Cash, don’t be ridiculous,” Kinga said, appearing by his side. “Get back in the car, and let’s discuss this like adults.”

He bent down, using his considerable height advantage to intimidate her, and pressed his face up close to hers. “I am getting back in the car. But you’re not.”

He waved at a passing black cab whose light was on, and as it pulled into the kerb, he opened the boot and set her suitcases on the pavement. He tucked a wad of notes into her jacket pocket. “Get a cab and cool off.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, making a grab for his arm. He launched his shoulder upwards, and ignoring her sharp intake of breath, he climbed into the car, leaving Kinga standing open-mouthed by the side of the road.

Around forty minutes later, he and Isaac arrived at the hotel. Isaac sorted all the formalities that Kinga would normally take care of, and as soon as Cash got to his suite, he fell fully clothed onto the bed, too exhausted even to take his shoes off. But despite how tired he was, he couldn’t get Natalia out of his mind. Now that he was back in the same country as her, the feelings he’d kept repressed for the last five weeks came roaring back.

He closed his eyes and immediately pictured her—the thick, rich chestnut hair that he’d fantasised about spreading over his chest as he pulled her on top of him. That lush body he was desperate to feel underneath his hands. The way her eyes had changed colour to a deeper, more enticing blue after he’d kissed her. The way her lips felt beneath his: soft, warm. Fucking fantastic.

He sat up and reached for his phone. Five weeks was a long time—far too long—and now, the mere few hours he had to wait to see her suddenly felt like a lifetime he wasn’t willing to suffer. She’d be at work, but what the hell. He needed to hear her tantalising voice, a voice that insinuated all sorts of thrilling possibilities.

He dialled her work number and held his breath, heart pounding like a schoolboy. Jesus, this woman had seriously got to him. Maybe it would sort him out if he did screw her, like Kinga had suggested. Or perhaps getting his hands on that luscious body would strengthen the spell she’d put on him through her kisses alone.

“Tally McKenzie.”

Just the sound of her voice made his cock twitch. He shifted it to a more comfortable position and leaned back against the pillows. “Hey. It’s Cash.”

No response. He checked the phone to make sure they were still connected.

“Natalia? You there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Are you back?”

“Yeah. Landed a couple of hours ago.”

“How are you feeling?”

Horny. “Tired, but I’m used to that.”

“I watched the game. You played amazing.”

“I was lucky. Could easily have gone the other way.”

“No. You had it all along. I’m so proud of you.”

His chest prickled with an unfamiliar feeling, and he rubbed it with the heel of his palm. “Thanks.”

“I thought you might have called while you were over there, but I guess you were really busy.”

“Yeah, sorry, I was maxed,” he lied. Jesus, if he’d heard this voice from Oz, he’d have been on the first plane home. “So we still on for tonight?”

The phone line went silent again. “I’ll understand if you want to cancel,” she finally said.

“Why the fuck would I want to do that?”

“I don’t want you to feel under any obligation, that’s all.”

He laughed. “Sweetness, the more we get to know each other, the more you’ll realise I never do anything I don’t want to. I’ll pick you up at seven. Make sure you bring photo ID with you.”

“What do I need photo ID for?”

He cut the call without answering and grinned. That should keep her guessing.