Cash paused. With his hand resting on her hip, he couldn’t stop the involuntary squeeze. He’d struggled to keep himself in check, more than he wanted her to know. He’d had to constantly remind himself to think of her throughout their lovemaking. His desperate need to be inside her after such a long absence had almost brought back his previous selfishness. With his own needs and desires hard to ignore, he’d been terrified of simply fucking her. You didn’t fuck the woman you loved. You cherished her, looked after her, put her needs before your own.

“Cash?” Her voice sounded tentative, even a little afraid. She twisted in his arms until their faces were inches apart. Her deep-blue eyes locked onto his. “Ace?”

“Are you okay?” he said, lifting his palm to her face. He caressed her cheek. Her skin was so soft beneath his hand.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I wasn’t too rough?”

“Would I sound like a slut if I said not rough enough?” she said with a giggle.

He arched an eyebrow. “That sounds like a challenge.”

“Maybe it is.”

His stomach tightened, and his cock twitched. “Careful. Not only you to think about.” He rested a hand on her stomach. “Did you hang on like I told you, buddy?”

Natalia laughed. “By her fingernails.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Her?”

“Oh, I don’t know what we’re having. But it’s better than it.”

“Do you want to know?”

She shook her head. “Got to be something to look forward to after God knows how many hours of labour followed by all that pushing.”

Cash flinched. He was apprehensive about the birth already. His knowledge about childbirth was zero, but he did know it was fucking painful.

“Hey,” she said, gently nudging his chin upwards. “Don’t worry. Millions of women do it every day, and they go back for more.”

“Since when did you become an expert on reading me?”

She tilted her head to the side. “Oh, ace,” she said with the special smile she kept only for him. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’ll let me be there? At the birth?”

“Who else’s balls am I going to be able to squeeze when I’m in agony?”

He laughed then. It felt good. It had been a long time since he’d properly laughed, and a lightness spread through his chest. “Remind me to dig out my old rugby jock strap.”

She nodded sagely. “I’ll make sure it’s packed.”

He folded his arms around her, holding her close to his body. “When the fuck did I get so lucky?”

She rested her chin on his chest, her eyes searching his. “When are you going to play again?”

He ran a jerky hand through his hair at the abrupt change of subject. He’d known she’d start pressing the discussion soon, although he’d hoped to avoid talking about it for a little while. “I’m not sure.”

She sat up, crossed her legs, and folded her arms. “We’re having this conversation whether you like it or not.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yes.”

He expelled a heavy breath. “I’m not ready.” As she began to interrupt him, he placed his index finger against her lips. “But I am starting physio again.”

“When?”

“I called. Last night when you were asleep. I’m booked in for this afternoon.”

“Good.” She gave him a warm smile. “I’m coming with you.”

“I hoped you’d say that,” he said, unable to stop his gaze sliding over her nakedness now that they’d got the awkward conversation out of the way. He expected her to cover up, especially with her earlier comment about being fat, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned back on her palms and uncrossed her legs. She parted her thighs, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Okay, ace, let’s see what else you’ve got in the tank.”

* * *

Cash grimaced as he completed his final exercise. His fingers were stiff, but from what he’d learned in Germany, that was a normal reaction to hard work. Natalia was sitting off to the side, an anxious expression on her face as she watched him push through the discomfort.

“How was that?” Liam, his physio, asked.

He flexed his right hand. “Difficult but nowhere near as bad as a few weeks ago.”

“You’re making great strides,” Liam said. “Even in the couple of weeks we’ve been working together, I can see a huge improvement.”

“Do you think he’s ready to play again?” Natalia asked, earning a sharp glance from Cash. She waved away his annoyance with a flick of her wrist.

“I think that would be a good idea. A small tournament maybe. Nothing too strenuous. It will give us a good benchmark of where you are.”

Natalia flashed a triumphant look in his direction. Cash withheld the urge to call her out. Regardless of whether he was ready physically, his reticence had more to do with his mental state. He was terrified of returning to competitive tennis—all those people watching, waiting, expecting him to fail. When he stepped back on court, he had to be certain that he was playing to win, not to simply make up the numbers.

“We’ll see,” he said.

“It’s up to you,” Liam said. “But you are physically ready. It depends on whether you’re willing to take a risk.”

Cash dug his fingernails into his palms as a flare of anger bubbled inside him. He’d decide when. Not Liam, who didn’t have a fucking clue what it was like to live inside Cash’s head. Liam could do his day of work and then go home and forget all about Cash and his problems.

“Can you give us a minute?” Natalia said.

Cash’s head snapped up. He wasn’t sure for a second whether Natalia was asking for time alone with Liam. But then he realised she was asking Liam to leave them alone.

“Of course,” Liam said.

Cash marched over to the window as the door clicked shut. His chest rose and fell with the effort of keeping himself in check, and he called on Dr Bauer’s mantra. Controlling anger is a skill. The more you do it, the better you become.

Cash instructed himself to relax, and he took a few deep breaths. He counted to ten, and when he reached the end, he realised Natalia hadn’t spoken a word.

He looked over his shoulder. She hadn’t moved. Her legs were crossed, and she was fiddling with a paperclip, feeding it through her fingers, her attention utterly focused.

“What?” he said.

She ignored him. Instead, she tossed the paperclip back on the desk and stood, stretching out her back. Despite the churning in his abdomen, he began to smile.

“I know what you’re doing.”

She met his gaze, an innocent expression on her face. “What’s that, ace?”

“I’m not ready.”

“I know you’re not.”

Taken aback, he frowned. “Then what’s this all about?”

She sauntered over, coming to a halt right in front of him. “You’re not ready because you’ll never be ready. If you wait for the moment when you feel prepared to take such a huge step, you’ll be sixty and looking back with a head full of regrets. I won’t let you be that person. If I have to forcibly drag you on court with a chain around your neck, I will.”

He chuckled. “Kinky.”

She moved into his body and wrapped her arms around his waist, her head resting on his chest.

“You have to do this, ace. I love you no matter what, but I know you. Not until you claw your way back to the top will you truly begin to put the anger behind you. Yes, you have coping mechanisms, and they’re working—really well. But the catalyst is always the same. Your one true love. Tennis.”

He stepped back a little so he could see her better. “You’re my one true love.”

A trace of a smile left her lips. “Okay, your other significant love.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, babe.”

She gripped his upper arms. “I do. What about Houston on the fourth of April? A two-fifty. You like playing in the States.”

“No. I don’t want you flying long haul, and I can’t do this without you.”

She scrunched her nose up. “Then it’ll have to be Estoril on the twenty-fifth. I don’t fancy Bucharest the week before.”

He laughed. “You always did have the tour dates memorised.”

She tapped her temple. “That’s right, ace. All up here. So?”

His mouth creased as he thought about it. “That might work. It’ll give me time on the practice court too. Are you going to be okay to fly?”

“I think I’m fine up to thirty-odd weeks. I’ll check with the doctor.”

His stomach somersaulted. “Then I guess the decision is made. I’d better get myself a coach.”