“Nice place,” Cash said when they reached the typically English pub with a thatched roof, colourful window boxes, and whitewashed walls. He held the door open for Natalia and ushered her through.

The inside matched the outside with traditional low-hanging beams and stone floors. The place was packed, but luckily, Cash spotted a table tucked away in a corner close to where an open fire burned in the grate. He pointed it out to Natalia, and she sidled past tables full of diners, murmuring an apology whenever she had to ask them to tuck their chairs in.

“Here,” Cash said, passing Natalia a menu once they’d sat down. “What do you want to drink?”

She scanned the drinks selection on the back page. “Think I’ll have a glass of the Pinot.”

“Why don’t I get a bottle?”

She glanced up. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

He laughed. “It’s me who’s going to get drunk. After the morning I’ve had, I need it. What about food?”

“I was thinking of having the chicken salad,” Natalia said while reading the menu.

“I’d rather you chose something with more calories.”

She frowned at him. “I like chicken salad.”

“Humour me. You’ve lost a lot of weight. I don’t want you getting ill, especially when it’s my fault.” He waved the waitress over. “Hi, can we order?”

“Sure. Welcome to the Kings Head. What can I get for you?”

“A bottle of the Pinot Noir and two glasses.”

“White Pinot for me,” Natalia said.

Cash smirked before glancing up at the waitress. “Whatever the lady wants, and I think I’ll have the salmon. Natalia?”

She raised her chin. “The fillet steak with garlic butter, please. Oh, and fries.”

Cash chuckled under his breath as the waitress made a note. He’d missed the way Natalia challenged him. If anyone else acted as she did, he’d have quickly put them in their place and enjoyed doing it. But when Natalia asserted herself, it was a treat he relished.

“Anything else?” the waitress asked, a slight dip between her brows forming as she gave him the same curious look that strangers often directed at him when trying to place where they’d seen him before.

“No,” he said, handing her both menus. “That’s it.”

“Happy with my meal choice, dear?” Natalia said as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

Cash repressed a smile at her barely veiled sarcasm. “Very. I’m worried about you being this thin.”

“Really?” she purred, fluttering her eyelashes for maximum effect. “Surely, all I’d have to do now is dye my hair blond, and I’d fit right in with your preferred type.”

For some reason, she was trying to wind him up. He chuckled. “You’re my preferred type whether you’re thin or curvy. As long as you’re happy, it’s fine by me. I just want you to be healthy.”

She held his gaze, and when her tongue swept over her bottom lip, his stomach tightened. It had always been easy for Natalia to turn him on. She only had to be present and breathing.

“Careful,” he said. “You remember how insatiable I am, right?”

Underneath the table, she rubbed her leg against his, and it took all his willpower not to groan out loud.

“Oh, I remember.”

He was thinking about kicking the flirting up a notch when a couple appeared at their table.

“It is you,” the man said, looming over Cash, while the woman bobbed from foot to foot and grinned inanely at him. “You’re Cash Gallagher, aren’t you?”

Cash inwardly cursed. He wanted to say something sarcastic like Last time I looked, or even better, Yes. Now, fuck off. I’m busy. Instead, he pasted on a false smile.

“I am,” he said shaking the man’s outstretched hand.

“Do you mind if we get a picture?”

Yes, I fucking do mind. “No, not at all.”

The man nudged his wife. “Go on, Sarah. Get in there.” After his wife squeezed in beside Cash, he took several photographs.

Cash ground his teeth and prayed for them to hurry up, but when the guy stuck a beer mat virtually under Cash’s nose for him to sign, his patience ran out.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m in the middle of lunch with my girlfriend. Do you mind?”

The man peered at Natalia as if he hadn’t noticed her before. “Oh, sorry, love,” he said, his loud voice drawing unwanted attention from nearby tables. “Guess you get used to sharing him. You don’t mind if he signs a few things for us, do you? The wife adores him.”

Natalia took one look at Cash’s face and drew herself upright. “Actually, I do mind,” she said, hitting the guy with her best icy stare. “Cash has kindly posed for pictures, and now I’d appreciate it if you would leave us alone so we can enjoy our lunch in peace.”

Intense pride flooded Cash’s chest. What a woman. The man gaped at Natalia before his wife managed to tug him away, muttered apologies tumbling from her mouth.

After they’d gone, Natalia grinned at him. “Who needs Isaac?” she said, referring to Cash’s burly security guy. She leaned back in her chair and reached for her wine, but as she lifted it to her lips, her hand froze. “Oh, shit. Why aren’t you in the States? You’ve missed Indian Wells.”

His breath stalled as he gaped at her. “You think I could compete when my head’s all over the place? I’m a fucking mess.”

“But your rankings?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Screw the rankings. I don’t care. All I want is to win you back and for my mother to regain a semblance of a normal life. Nothing else matters.”

Natalia began to say something then seemed to decide against it, choosing to drink her wine instead.

“What is it?” Cash said.

She lowered her voice to barely above a whisper as she leaned across the table. “How come no one knows? I’ve done hundreds of hours of research into you, reading everything I could get my hands on. And yet… nothing. It’s a miracle you’ve kept all this quiet what with social media and the Internet. It’s virtually impossible for normal people to keep things private. For a celebrity, it’s almost inconceivable.”

The waitress dashed over, holding two plates aloft. “Okay, my lovelies. Who’s for the steak?”

Cash pointed at Natalia, who was glaring at the waitress with barely veiled annoyance at the untimely interruption. He waited until they were alone once more. “When it happened, I was still a minor in the eyes of the law, so my arrest, the investigation—all of it is in sealed records.” He picked at his salmon as his appetite waned.

“Of course,” Natalia said, nodding. “And your mum’s carers have never let anything leak?”

Cash shook his head. “They’ve never let me down. They’re all discreet, professional ladies.”

She fixed her gaze on him, her beautiful blue eyes filled with empathy, and his stomach clenched. He ached to touch her, to get back to their earlier flirting, but the moment had passed.

“I’m glad it hasn’t come out,” she said. “It is strange, though. Why the dislike of journalists if you’ve managed to keep this under wraps?”

Cash popped a spear of broccoli into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Fear, maybe. And worry if I opened myself up, or allowed anyone to get close to me, I might let something slip. Or an innocent remark may lead one of the more inquisitive reporters to delve a little deeper. It’s far from impossible to find the truth if one has the right motivation.”

“You let me get close.”

“Yeah,” he said with a grin. “And look where that’s got me.”

“Lucky for me,” she said, returning his smile.

His spirits lifted, the aching void in his chest getting smaller—not disappearing entirely but at least reducing in size. Maybe he did have a chance at forgiveness.

“What happens now?” he said as she cut into her steak.

She glanced up at him. “Fancy giving me a lift back to London?”