Read The Heart Of The Game Online

Authors: Pamela Aares

The Heart Of The Game

 

 

Books by Pamela Aares

 

The Tavonesi Series:

 

 

Love Bats Last
(Book #1, Alex and Jackie)

Thrown By Love
(Book #2, Chloe and Scotty)

Fielder's Choice
(Book #3, Alana and Matt)

Love on the Line
(Book #4, Cara and Ryan)

Aim For Love
(Book #5, Sabrina and Kaz)

The Heart of the Game
(Book #6, Cody and Zoe)

Love in the Vineyard
(Book #7, Adrian and Natasha) (August 2015)

 

also available:

Jane Austen and the Archangel

 

 

The Heart of the Game

Book Six in the Tavonesi Series

Cody and Zoe

© 2015 Pamela Aares

 

[email protected]

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A note from Pamela:

 

Writing about the Tavonesi family and their friends has been an amazing adventure! In this sixth book of the series,
The Heart of the Game
, you’ll get to touch in with some of your favorite characters and meet Alex Tavonesi’s captivating Italian cousins. With their arrival, the wine country of California will never be the same.

I had fun writing about the
very
American sport of baseball as seen through Zoe Tavonesi’s eyes. When she meets the hot young catcher Cody Bond, he throws everything she thought she’d known about life and love into a world-altering spin. And a polo-playing, sophisticated Italian heiress is the very
last
person Cody could imagine loving. But as you know, dear readers, love has its mysterious and all-powerful ways.

Zoe’s wild younger sister Coco sums up the heart of this story when she says:
“Surely they can balance together, dreams for life and for love? You won’t know if you don’t try.”
(And I can’t wait to for you to find out who steals
Coco’s
heart in
Any Day for Love
.)

I hope you enjoy reading Cody and Zoe’s love story as much as I did writing it. As is true for all of the books in
The Tavonesi Series
, each can be read on its own. If
The Heart of the Game
is your first dip into the series, welcome to the wild, sensual world of the Tavonesis! And stay tuned as Zoe’s brother Adrian’s story,
Love in the Vineyard
is up next.

Thank you for reading and for sharing with me your thoughts and reviews about
The Tavonesi Series
. Your emails and Goodreads messages are a great joy! I love hearing from readers. You can contact me
[email protected]
and
join my newsletter
if you’d like to stay in touch and find out about new releases.

In the meantime, happy reading!

 

Pamela

 

 

From USA Today bestselling author Pamela Aares comes THE HEART OF THE GAME, the sixth book in the Tavonesi family series featuring passion, mystery, and well-won love!

 

When Cody Bond, the Giants’ hot new catcher, agrees to ride in a benefit polo match to help heiress Zoe Tavonesi, he falls hard for the Italian beauty.

Cody’s determined not to screw up his career with relationships, especially when Zoe and the loving, tight-knit, aristocratic Tavonesis remind him of everything his dysfunctional American family isn’t. But while he may be a master of control on the baseball field, Cody’s iron will can’t shield him from the desire Zoe awakens.

Zoe wants nothing to do with her family’s new home and vineyard in the California wine country. Every day spent in exile from the world she loves in Rome feels like an eternity. Her heart’s set on returning to Italy and opening the art gallery her late mother always wanted. But the passion Cody fires has her second-guessing her plan and her dreams.

Just as they open to love, Zoe’s family is caught up in a dangerous web of Mafia crime. To protect her, Cody must swallow his pride and turn to an ex-CIA operative for help—his estranged father—even as he suspects that Zoe’s family is involved in foul play.

But will Cody’s inability to trust, and the criminals threatening to destroy Zoe’s family, kill any future for the fiery passion they’ve discovered? Or will Zoe’s love free Cody from the past, and help him believe in the power of love?

 

 

 

 

Prologue

 

As deftly as a dragonfly, the helicopter angled toward the gleaming deck of the
Tesoro
. Vico swallowed hard but couldn’t dislodge the anxiety lumped in his throat. He stared out at the vast blue Tyrrhenian Sea. He’d never been one for boats or for the wide-open water. The ocean stretching below him was calm; there’d been little wind since they’d left Rome. But even a smooth flight and a surreptitiously popped third pill had done little to settle Vico’s nerves.

His hands shook as he stuffed the rattling bottle of pills back into his pocket. The doctor had warned that mixing meds could trigger another violent outburst or fire more mania-fueled hallucinations, but Vico had a better handle on his drug cocktails than some by-the-book medical snob. His clueless doctor had no idea of Vico’s soaring genius or the keen edge the drugs kept sharp. Still, the drugs weren’t working today.

He’d been summoned.

A summons no one in the family would refuse. No one could. If anyone tried, he’d pay a dear price for attempting to evade the power of Donato Gualdieri.

The downwash of the heli blades shot out churning patterns of wheeling circles, disturbing the mirror-smooth water. The circles widened as they landed on the helipad of his godfather’s yacht.

Vico scanned the deck. His father wasn’t there to greet him. But then, he wouldn’t be. He’d be settled comfortably on the upper deck, swilling champagne.

A steward ran out, his hair flying wildly in the downwash of the still-spinning blades.

“Your family is in the salon.” He reached for Vico’s bag.

The bag held Vico’s computer and his flash drives. No one handled his bag. He pulled it away and followed the steward to the upper deck.

Halfway up the stairs, Vico shot a quick glance to the horizon. The Tyrrhenian was living up to its reputation as a gem of the Mediterranean. Ten miles off the coast near Rome, the water spread out like a sheet of blue ice. He felt the weight of the sky pressing in on him. Vico would take a cafe in Venice or a nightclub in Rome any day over the monotonous horizon of blue sea meeting a vastly bluer sky.

He stepped into the dimness of the salon and immediately felt better. But then his eyes met his godfather’s.

Donato Gualdieri had eyes that could chill a vampire’s blood. When Vico glanced at his father, he found that his eyes weren’t any more welcoming.

Vico lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and stared back. They’d invited him here. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Not anything they could know about.

Let them stare.

His godfather’s face broke into the smile Vico had recognized since he was a child. What Donato’s hard gaze could chill, his smile could thaw. The warm thawing of Donato Gualdieri’s smile had fooled many men. And they’d paid dearly. He wouldn’t be one of those men.

“Sit, Vico.” Donato gestured to a leather-covered wingback chair. “Drink. I apologize for bringing you out to sea; I know it is not to your taste. But there are details to handle.”

Vico didn’t miss the slight tone of disappointment in his voice. Gualdieri men had once been pirates, but Vico didn’t fit the mold. Never had. He preferred mental stealth to physical prowess. Cleverness was a far more effective weapon.

But that meant his skills didn’t measure up to family expectations.

Donato waved a hand in the air. “We had to know we were secure and couldn’t be tapped,” his godfather continued in his velvet-smooth voice. “Cell towers are making on-shore eavesdropping much too easy these days.”

He handed Vico a glass of champagne, perfectly chilled. Then he tipped his glass to Vico’s.

“To your success,
figlioccio
.”

The tone Donato used to say
godson
was anything but endearing.

“Perhaps you might first tell me what it is I’m to succeed at.”

It was impertinence. Yet better impertinence than cowering.

Vico was the youngest of the family, although not the favorite. His brother Alessi, the world-renowned neurosurgeon, held that place of honor. Alessi was the favored godson, the famous doctor. The tinge of pride was there when his father or godfather spoke of Alessi, when they compared Vico unfavorably with his older brother.

Why a man as wealthy as his godfather would care what the world thought of their family made no sense to Vico. But Alessi had brought public legitimacy to a family that had for centuries operated just beyond the reach of the law. It was Alessi who’d married the daughter of an English earl, Alessi who had been short-listed for a Nobel Prize for his research, Alessi who had fathered the first grandson to keep the Gualdieri family line going.

Vico’s talents could never be measured by anything visible, by anything you could touch, by anything the world would admire—except perhaps for his adeptness on a horse. In the world of family business, he was the nerd, the one in front of a computer screen crunching numbers, keeping track of boring accounts. And lately, those talents had been paying off. But Donato wouldn’t know about that.

“Your recent dalliance with the Komarovs has exposed us and is unacceptable,” Donato said without inflection.

Vico’s heart thudded. The harsh tone forced acid into Vico’s throat. Leave it to Donato to get straight to the point. Vico schooled his features, tried to keep them blank, and hoped that his hammering pulse didn’t betray him. How much did they know? And how quickly could he hide the evidence?

Donato let out a heavy sigh. “Greed has made the Komarovs careless. It has been brought to my attention—” He paused to sip his champagne.

Something brought to Donato’s attention meant that an operative for the Gualdieri family had used bribery to gain information. Information that often cost dearly.

“It has been brought to my attention,” Donato repeated, “that the Italian government is cooperating with the International Finance Exchange to gather information on the Komarovs. And now, thanks to your activities, if they get the information they want, our family will be implicated in their affairs.” He glared at Vico over the rim of his glass. “You have been a fool.”

Over the thundering of his pulse, Vico heard the clock ticking on the polished wood mantel behind him, heard a gull cry above the boat. All of time seemed to still, and like a dying man, he saw his life flash before his eyes.

Donato’s lips twitched into a half smile. The smile Vico had come to recognize as representing power.

“I must be sure that when the authorities—or should I say,
if
the authorities—take down the Komarovs, that we will in no way be implicated. If the Komarovs are backed against a wall and seek a plea bargain or some equally spineless escape from their punishment, I must be sure this data I’ve been informed about cannot connect your foolish blunders to us in any way.”

Donato shifted and looked to Vico’s father. His father nodded. The gesture chilled Vico. There would be no intercession from his parent. There never was.

Donato put his glass down and steepled his fingers, tapping them against his chin. “All traces of your actions must be eradicated. Your father tells me your talents lie this way.”

Damn, he should’ve known Donato’s reach extended beyond Italy. He’d covered his tracks, but it wasn’t easy to cover them all. Not even when you were brilliant.

And, admittedly, sometimes he couldn’t resist the temptation to leave clues, bits of data that dangled like breadcrumbs, just to see who was out there and how good they were. How smart they were. It was like trolling for adventure in cyberspace.

His esteemed godfather and father didn’t know he was a cyberspace hero, one of the best hackers in the world. Being a hero was a rush. But the heat of that rush had led to him sitting with sweaty palms on a yacht in the middle of the Tyrrhenian Sea. Facing down the two men he had once considered invincible. Maybe still did.

Vico tried not to squirm under Donato’s relentless gaze. His late-night hacking and lucrative dealings with the Komarovs had started out as a lark, a way of bucking the family, a way of proving himself. He’d scored nearly a million dollars in credit card and bank account hacking in just the past two months. And had erased all traces of his actions. At least he’d thought he had.

“My sources have informed me that Santino Tavonesi is leading the investigation. He keeps the sensitive information on a portable drive, on or near his person at all times. Santino is a smart man; he knows that any system in a cloud, in a database, can be hacked.”

That Donato knew anything about hacking surprised Vico. The man barely knew how to use a cellphone.

“Our source tracked your Paris bank hacking,” his father broke in. “He was able to remove the data from the systems there, but the information remains on the drive Tavonesi guards.”

Vico flinched. He hadn’t counted on data being sequestered on a hard drive. It was so twentieth century. But he couldn’t hack something untethered from the web; no one could. He considered his options, willed his pulse to slow. He could admit to the bank crime, get the hard drive, protect his secrets. For it was his other hacking activities that would make him a wealthy man, untouchable and powerful.

His father sat forward, holding Vico in a cold stare. “You must shut down your operations and destroy this data.” There was a twinge of disdain along with the anger in his father’s voice. The familiar sound made Vico sit up straighter. And hate himself for still caring what his father thought of him.

“But what astonishes me,” his father continued, “is why you did this foolish thing. For what do you need more money?”

For all their wealth and power, his father and uncle were simple men. They had no idea what could be gained by hacking—wealth beyond their ability to imagine.

“I spent last week in Monte Carlo,” Vico said, fishing for a believable excuse and buying himself time to think. There was no shame in a week of gambling. In recent generations, the Gualdieri casinos had buttressed their family’s fortune.

If the family had let Vico dip into his inheritance, he might never have turned to his keyboard to find ways to fund his vices. Hacking the bank had been necessary. Yet... perhaps he shouldn’t have bought the chocolate-diamond necklace for his mistress. But she
was
worth it. Every euro. Really, it was their own fault.

And though he needed money to cover his debts, the thrill of stealing became addicting; he hadn’t been able to stop. He should’ve stuck to simply selling to the Russian cartel the cyber worms he’d developed. He shouldn’t have struck out on his own.

Maybe he was one of the bad seeds that the old family stories told about, men who made mistakes that cost lives. Men who lived beyond the edge of sanity.

But in a few months, none of that would matter. Soon he would possess power and wealth well beyond that of his father, Donato
and
his sanctimonious brother Alessi—even beyond the Komarovs. Too bad he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. He would just live a luxurious life on a private island. He’d already selected one. Warm, with beautiful women and any toy a man could wish for.

Donato waved a hand toward Vico’s father in a silencing gesture. “Don’t be too hard on the boy. We all need a break once in a while.” He turned to Vico. “I hear the weather was superb in Monte Carlo last week.”

He was to be forgiven. Or at least given another chance.

A flush stole through him. His plans and Donato’s would never line up.

Donato leaned forward in his chair. “It’s very simple, what I’m asking, Vico. Go to California. Use as your cover that you are investigating wine techniques for the family. Renew your friendship with the Tavonesi girl—what was her name?”

Simple
.

Nothing Donato asked of anyone was simple.

Vico knew damned well his godfather hadn’t forgotten Zoe’s name. The whole Gualdieri family had been smitten with her when she’d ridden in a summer polo match at the family estate. The elaborate charity charade had been a very public attempt by Donato to bury all memory of the vendetta between the Gualdieris and the Tavonesis, another move to legitimize the family in the eyes of the world.

If the lovely Zoe had known how clever and successful Vico was in his dealings, maybe she would’ve noticed him off the field that day. Her lack of attention still stung. He was accustomed to using his family’s wealth and position, combined with his good looks, to get any woman he wanted.

“Zoe.” Vico said, supplying the name he’d been cued to provide. Now he was the one following breadcrumbs on a path not of his choosing. “Her name is Zoe.” He hadn’t said her name in a very long time. Not in his waking hours. Not out loud. But he’d dreamed of her. Delicious dreams. There were many things he’d like to do to her, watching her face when he did them. Just thinking about his fantasies made him hard.

But he couldn’t wield the power of his secret successes as a means to impress, much as he wished he could. At least not yet.

Perhaps this assignment would have a silver lining. A thought struck him: maybe he and Zoe, like a more successful version of Romeo and Juliet, would heal the long-standing family animosities. That such an outlandish idea didn’t jibe with reality didn’t disturb him. Reality was highly overrated. A brilliant man could overcome its limitations. The thought of having money and power
and
Zoe made him smile.

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