Can love overcome betrayal, or are some things broken beyond repair?
Too hurt to look into who might have sent photos of Cash Gallagher kissing another woman, Tally McKenzie flees to a secret hideout in Brighton and tries to forget her lover.
Stubborn to the last, Cash tracks Tally down and wins her back by confessing his darkest secret. Now he can only hope his demons don’t become headline news and threaten his role as the reigning bad boy of centre court
Can Cash and Tally’s deepening relationship survive all the challenges, or is the hot tennis ace about to discover that the prospect of losing his precious career is the least of his woes?
*Please note this novel is written in British English and includes British idioms.
Losing Game is the second novel in the Winning Ace series. To have the best reading experience, the books are best read in order.
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When she isn’t writing or sitting around with her head stuck in a book, she can often be found watching The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones or any tennis match involving Roger Federer. Her greatest fear is running out of coffee.
Tracie studied accountancy, gaining her qualification in 2001. Her maths teacher would no doubt be stunned by this revelation considering Tracie could barely add two plus two at high school.
Tracie lives in the North West of England with her amazingly supportive husband. They both share a love of dogs, travel and wine.
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The sharp pain in her chest couldn’t have been any worse if someone had cracked open her ribcage, reached inside, and torn out her heart.
“Leave me alone, Cash,” she croaked to the man she’d adored since she was fifteen.
“I can’t do that.”
She tightened her grip on the door handle, certain if she let go she’d crumple to the floor. “Don’t you think I’ve been hurt enough?” she whispered.
Cash bowed his head, and his shoulders drooped. “I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”
“Then go away.” She turned her back on him and opened the door.
“Please, Natalia. Can we go inside and talk?”
She rested her forehead against the doorframe. “No,” she said in a wavering voice. Tears pricked behind her eyes. She dug her fingernails into her palm as she swallowed past an uncomfortable lump in her throat.
“I can explain,” he said, his hand lightly touching her arm.
She spun out of his reach but kept her back to him. “I said no.” Her chin trembled, and she clenched her jaw to stop the involuntary movement. “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”
“I know I’ve fucked up. Please, let me inside. I’ll tell you everything. About Gracie, about my mother and father. Everything. It’s what I should have done already.”
“Cash, please.” She faced him then, her voice cracking as the tears she’d desperately tried to hold back spilled down her cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, baby,” he said, reaching for her again.
She staggered backwards and stumbled over the step. Her ankle twisted as she tried to save herself. Cash shot out an arm and pulled her against his chest. This time, she didn’t have the energy to resist. She slumped against him as he dug around in his pocket.
He produced a crumpled tissue and wiped away her tears. “You’re freezing. Let’s go inside and get you warmed up.”
Before she could protest, he ushered her through the door and into the tiny hallway. He walked straight ahead into the kitchen like he owned the damned place and then flicked the kettle on.
“Go and get a shower. I’ll have the tea made by the time you get out.”
She wanted to tell him no, that she could make her own bloody tea, but the words wouldn’t come. She trudged into the bathroom and locked the door. She wouldn’t put it past Cash to follow her, and she craved control even as she sensed it slipping out of reach.
She’d thought Brighton would be a refuge, a place to heal, but he’d found her so easily. Once she’d showered and dressed in clean clothes, she would be able to deal with Cash. She would listen to what he had to say and then politely ask him to leave.
And then she was going home to London.
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