A Very Daring Christmas (The Tavonesi Series Book 8)

by Pamela Aares

  His father’s coronation? The guy was a prince? That was ripe. Just ripe. Monaco, jets and parties—Cameron and Dimitri shared a world Jake wasn’t sure he wanted any part of.

  A blush colored Cameron’s cheeks. “I had work, Dimitri. Parties had to take a backseat. But I did write to your father.”

  “Ah yes, work.” Dimitri bit the head off the gingerbread cookie he held. “It can be so inconvenient.”

  Tyler inserted himself between Dimitri and Cameron. “Jake hit the game-winning home run in the World Series. He’s going to meet the president. As in of the United States. Aren’t you, Jake?”

  Cameron crossed her arms. There was no mistaking the challenge in her eyes.

  “No, sport. The team is going to Washington, but I have work to do here.” Jake emphasized the word work, but what he really wanted to do was vaporize Dimitri and his smooth-talking ways.

  “But it’s the president,” Tyler protested.

  “Not one for pomp and circumstance?” Dimitri’s too-bright-white smile was like a motion-detector light going off in the daytime.

  “Something like that.” Jake grabbed a snickerdoodle and downed it, but the cinnamon-laced cookie didn’t settle the roiling in his stomach. Maybe he had indigestion. Whatever the burn in his belly was, he hadn’t felt it before. Maybe he’d call his doctor when he got back to the city. The season had taken a toll, and he needed to get into tip-top shape for the next one. Yeah, he’d get checked out.

  Or maybe he should just get the hell out of there and back on familiar ground. His gym in the Embarcadero was sounding really good right now. He could pump some iron. Take a steam. Forget about all this Christmas fuss. Forget about people trying to shoehorn him into doing their bidding. And forget about Cameron and the unfamiliar feelings she revved in him.

  Cameron picked up a snickerdoodle from the silver tray and bit into it. She raised a brow as she chewed. “These are excellent cookies, Tyler.”

  “Ours are way better,” Sophie said from where she’d perched herself on the table beside the trays of cookies. “I want a rematch.”

  “We won,” Tyler said, planting his fists at his sides. “You’re a poor loser. No one likes a poor loser. Adrian says so.”

  Cameron leaned over Tyler’s head and toward Jake. “You may have won this round,” she said, “but we’ll see how you do in charades. Winners get to claim a prize.”

  “I love a good wager,” Dimitri said. “What’s charades?”

  “I’ll teach you.” Cameron shot Dimitri a smile. “It’s acting, mostly. It’s fun.”

  To avoid his impulse to touch Cameron, Jake crossed his arms. Dimitri made him feel like staking out territory. But he didn’t stoop to such stupid behaviors, had never felt the need to. Releasing one hand from his elbow, he gestured to the air between him and Cameron. “We’re on the same team, remember?”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Light sparked in her eyes, the light he’d seen when she’d rested in his arms after they’d made love. Was she trying to scramble his brain?

  And just like that, Jake knew he was staying, that he wasn’t skipping out to spend time alone in a gym. Staying because he liked the holiday fuss. Because he liked the kids and admired Alex and his sister.

  And Cameron?

  The trouble was, he didn’t have any words for what he felt about her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After dinner, Jake took a long walk through Trovare’s vineyards. The free-flowing banter around the table had made him feel like the outsider he was. As he strolled through the rows of pruned vines, he admired that Alex managed to deal with a huge operation like Trovare and still play in the majors. Star in the majors.

  A twig snapped behind him and had him pivoting.

  “Saw you head out here.” Alex’s voice came out of the darkness before Jake could make out his silhouetted form. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

  Stars were just blinking on in the inky sky. The lights from Trovare were the only other visible source of illumination.

  “I miss the night sky,” Jake said. “One of my favorite things to do as a kid was head out to the field near our house in the mountains and stare at the stars until my toes got so cold I had to go in.”

  He could be honest with Alex. With Alex, what you saw was what he was. No bullshit.

  “Jackie loves the stars. When she was in the Galapagos doing research, she said she thought she could see a million.”

  “Where is Jackie?”

  “Honolulu. Her brother had a bad accident surfing the pipeline. Well, not actually surfing. He was trying to rescue another surfer. They both got shredded by the reef. She’ll be back by Christmas. With Cory, I hope.”

  “Sorry to hear that.” Injuries were plaguing athletes more than ever. “Cameron and I went to see him surf down south. I hadn’t realized at the time that he was your wife’s brother.”

  “He’s tough. Been through worse. But it scraped up his bow arm. We might not have a cello concert this Christmas.”

  “He plays the cello?”

  “Like a master.”

  Jake kicked at a spot in the dirt. “Is anyone in this family a straight-up single-talent anything?” He said it with a laugh, but the Tavonesis wowed him. There had to be a shadow side. There had to be stuff that they didn’t want seen. But he’d be damned if he’d detected any skeletons in any of the closets.

  Alex cleared his throat. Jake’s mind stood to alert. Even though Alex was the team captain of the Giants, he rarely made speeches, but before he did, he made that same sound.

  “I wanted to tell you, before it hit the news—I’m retiring after this next year.”

  Jake felt that the planet had stopped spinning. Alex was the heart of the team. “You’ve been saying that for years.”

  “Yeah, well, I mean it this time. At least I think I do.”

  The silence of the night engulfed them, but Jake’s thoughts were racing. He’d never thought beyond baseball; the game was his life. It was the organizing principle that everything else hung on. Baseball was how he made sense of everything.

  “I want you to take over as captain of the team next year,” Alex continued. “The guys want you to take it on.”

  “How do you know?” Not a very diplomatic answer for such an announcement. But he sucked at diplomacy. Which was exactly why the news throttled him.

  “I mean, that’s honorable. I mean, it’s an honor—rather, it would be an honor. But I don’t even know if I’ll get a deal, if the Giants will renew my contract. You should pick another guy.”

  “I like humility,” Alex said. In the darkness Jake couldn’t read his expression. “But don’t be ridiculous. You’re it, hands down. If the team doesn’t renew you, well, what can I say? I’ve been surprised in my life, but that would be a big one. Just think about it. You don’t have to decide until spring training.”

  “What would you do? I mean, if you don’t play ball?” As soon as the words left Jake’s mouth, he felt ridiculous. He was standing on the grounds of what Alex would do.

  “Before I met Jackie, I had no idea about life beyond baseball. I love Trovare, the vineyards—even some aspects of the business—but none of this could take the place of the game. You know that spot in you that defies description, but you know it’s there? That hole that playing your heart out seems to fill? It’s not exactly the same, but living with Jackie, being married to her... I won’t say we don’t have our rough spots, but I discovered that living beside her pulls me into life like nothing else I can describe. We’ll roll the path out in front of us as we go along. I have faith in that now.”

  Jake knew the hole Alex was describing. What baseball didn’t fill—that bit left over—he filled with women and whiskey and gambling. But lately none of those standbys had been reliable. He tried to think back to when the nagging feeling had started in earnest.

  In Dominia. When he met Cameron.

  Yup, Cameron.

  It was no wonder she was a top Hollywood draw.
He’d fallen under her spell just like millions of other people had. Alex’s admission about possibly retiring floored him—but what he felt for Cameron? It scraped at Jake’s bones.

  “I was sent out here to fetch you,” Alex said after a few minutes had passed. “Sabrina and Parker have us on a schedule tonight.”

  “No getting out of charades?”

  “No getting out of anything. Not with those two at the holiday helm.”

  “I could fake my own death.”

  Alex laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it. Our gang’s grown since dinner. Matt and Alana are staying over for a few days. And we’ve picked up a few more Christmas orphans. Our friend Brigitte is staying with us until after New Year’s Eve. And Coco will join us for the holidays too. She doesn’t like being over at Casa del Sole with everybody else in her family off in Rome.”

  “Lead the way.”

  “Meant to tell you Matt and Ryan are taking the two of us on in Ryan’s batting cage day after tomorrow.”

  “That I can look forward to. Maybe we can bunk down in one of the barn stalls and wait out the holidays there.”

  “You are a dreamer,” Alex said.

  Jake heard the tinge of wistfulness in his buddy’s voice. Parlor parties probably weren’t his first choice of activities either, even if he was a happily married man. Hell, to help Alex out, he could buck up for a few holiday activities and be a team player.

  When he and Alex entered the Great Hall, they discovered that chairs had been moved from the long table to form two lines off to the right of the towering Christmas tree. Hundreds of white lights sparkled in the branches, illuminating an odd collection of homemade and high-art ornaments.

  Sophie hung an ornament with fanfare and then protested being herded off to bed. But her parents held firm. It was adult time, Matt said. Sophie cast Jake a look that pleaded, rescue me but Jake shook his head. He pantomimed swinging a bat, reminding her of his promise about taking her to the batting cage. She whooped and marched out of the room.

  “What was that all about?” Matt asked as he greeted Jake with a handshake.

  “I promised Sophie a cage session.”

  “You didn’t,” Alana said. “Jake, you are the worst influence.”

  Jake lifted a shoulder and grinned. “I try to be.” He spread his hands in a gesture of defiance and pointed to Matt. “You’re the best shortstop in the league, dude. Surely you’ve taught your daughter how to stand in the face of a fastball?”

  “Wait till you have kids of your own. I’ll corrupt them,” Matt said.

  “Wait is the operative word there. As in not going to happen.”

  Alana narrowed her eyes, but then a grin broke over her face as she looked over Jake’s shoulder. “Cameron! Sophie said you were here.”

  Alana dodged around Jake and hugged Cameron, then looped their arms together.

  “I was just about to inform Mr. Know-It-All, when he said he doesn’t want kids, that the universe doesn’t give a hoot about our carefully laid plans.” She spun the two of them to face Jake. “If you’d told me a couple years ago that I’d be a proud stepmom, I’d have laughed. But Sophie’s the best part of my life.”

  Matt made a loud show of clearing his throat.

  “Okay, she’s tied for first place,” Alana said with a light laugh. “These men, they have such fragile egos.”

  Cameron nailed Jake with one of her unreadable movie-star expressions. “I’ve noticed.”

  The sound of heels clacking on the tile floor had them all turning. A woman with curves that could outclass a Maserati stalked toward them.

  “Does anyone have any idea how dark it is on these country roads at night?” the woman said in accented English.

  “Never drive faster than your angels can fly,” Alana said.

  Did Jake detect a hint of competition in Alana’s voice? The foreign woman was beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as Alana.

  “Or faster than your headlights can beam.” The newcomer held her hand out to Cameron. “I’m Brigitte.”

  Cameron unlooped her arm from Alana’s and shook the woman’s outstretched hand. “I’m—”

  “God, everyone knows who you are, darling.” Brigitte turned a flirty look to Jake. “And who is this fine specimen?”

  Jake wasn’t sure he liked being called a specimen. Okay, so some of the women he’d dated had thought of him as just that. Most of them, in fact, which was why he’d chosen them in the first place. But in front of his friends and Cameron, the moniker rankled.

  “Jake Ryder.” He resisted the urge to give her a mock bow. Maybe the damned castle was softening his brain.

  “Ah yes, Chloe mentioned you. You’re the Southern guy. Kentucky, right?”

  “North Carolina, born and bred.”

  She eyed Jake up and down. “I keep telling myself I should spend more time in the South. But it’s hot.”

  “That it is,” Jake said, fielding the force of her flirtation. “And cold.”

  “We should go over the rules,” Sabrina said, saving him from making a total ass out of himself. “We’re playing charades, Brigitte.”

  “We are indeed,” Brigitte said with a tilting grin.

  Whether it was because Cameron was witnessing the display or because he didn’t like the flow of the game Brigitte had set running, Jake shuffled closer to Matt. “I think a stiff whiskey is called for. Want one, Matt?”

  “Kentucky’s finest?”

  “Yup.”

  “I’ll take a double.”

  “Moi aussi,” Brigitte said. “In fact, I’ll help you pour.”

  “No need,” Matt said. “I’m on the pouring team with him.”

  He could’ve kissed Matt. Brigitte was energy he’d once liked, but right then, her flirtations—which just barely stopped short of a direct invitation to her bed—rattled his cage in all the wrong ways.

  He felt Cameron’s eyes on him as he and Matt walked over to the buffet at the side of the room.

  “That’s Chloe’s best friend,” Matt said as they poured out three tumblers of whiskey. “She’s actually brilliant and fun when she’s not on the prowl.”

  Jake downed the whiskey Matt had poured, then grabbed the decanter and refilled his glass. “She’s perfect for Mr. Prince.”

  “You mean Dimitri?”

  “Is there more than one prince here tonight?” One prince was more than plenty for Jake.

  “They’re cousins,” Matt said. “Besides, Alana says he has his eye on Cameron. That’s probably why he’s here.”

  Jake downed the second tumbler of whiskey. Maybe he would drive to the nearby casino. A round of blackjack would clear his head.

  But as Matt headed off to hand Brigitte her whiskey, Parker strode into the room.

  Jake blinked.

  Parker was dressed in formal evening attire. And not the sort of rented getup that Jake usually relied on for those rare occasions when he was forced to put on a starched-up penguin suit. Parker looked as comfortable in the perfectly tailored tuxedo as if he’d been born in it.

  “I apologize for the attire,” Parker said to no one in particular. “Had to make an appearance at the Sonoma Symphony holiday gala. My friend’s the soloist tonight. And I helped arrange their pre-party.”

  Dimitri sauntered in behind him, also decked out in a tux. He held a red box out to the group and lifted the lid. “Bonbons from Belgium.”

  Blackjack. The word bloomed in Jake’s skull, looming like a beacon in the foggiest night. That was the ticket, the perfect antidote to princes and bonbons and parlor games.

  He surveyed the exits and imagined he heard the drone of flight attendants in his head, repeating the safety talk that passengers listened to with half an ear while hoping they’d never need to remember it. As was too often the case, the perfect exit was behind him. He turned and took a step toward the door. His exit plan was cut short when his teammate Ryan and Ryan’s wife, Cara, walked through it.

  “So I’m not the only guy w
ho got roped into parlor games tonight,” Ryan said in his East Texas drawl. Ryan was the best center fielder in the majors and a shrewd hitter that even the best pitchers couldn’t read.

  But clearly Ryan’s skill wasn’t working for him tonight.

  “Dimitri, what a surprise,” Cara said as she and Dimitri did the three-cheek-kiss thing.

  Jake noticed that Dimitri’s eyes didn’t linger on Cara for as long as they had on Cameron. Not even close. But Ryan stiffened at the display. In Texas, like the South, you kissed only people who were family. Or who you meant to explore in realms not suited for parlor games.

  “This is my husband, Ryan. I’m thrilled you two finally get to meet.”

  Ryan looked anything but thrilled.

  “Hi, Jake.” Cara kissed him on the cheek. “Ryan’s a charades virgin, like you.” She winked.

  Jake tried not to wince as heat crawled up his neck. What other aspects of his life had been discussed among the extended clan of Tavonesi women and their friends?

  “Too bad Cody’s gone off with Zoe to Italy,” Ryan said with a laugh that sounded forced to Jake’s ears. “We Rough Rider types could just rope y’all into a corner and then head to the bar.”

  “We could cut out and head to the casino,” Jake offered up, hoping Ryan would take the bait.

  Cara turned to Parker. “Reluctant participants can be such a delicious challenge. I hope I’m on your team.”

  Dimitri offered the box he held. “Bonbon? They’re fresh from Belgium.”

  “Chocolate truffles are the way to my heart,” Cara said with a sly smile to Ryan.

  “We’re drawing straws,” Parker said in his serious game-master’s voice. “Seemed the only fair way to do it.”

  Ryan leaned over to Jake. “The fervor of fantasy baseball ain’t nothing compared to the dedication of this gang to their games. Maybe there’s a new market there—virtual charades. It’d work online, don’t you think?”