by Kat Bastion
Breath.
Pulse.
Wind.
Spray.
Gravity…ruler of all.
I dropped in on a one-eighty spin. Tail skimmed down the face of the wave. The collapsing barrel roared with fury behind me. And through a salty cloud of mist, I glided out, riding the exhilarating power of nature.
But once I hit sand, the peace I’d sought ended. A lone girl stood by my gear.
I heaved out a sigh and tucked my board under my arm, preparing to face yet another one.
“Are you Mason Price?”
“Mase.” I dropped my board, then grabbed my towel. Had to tug the corner out from under her bare foot.
“Mase, for sure.” She gave a nod.
Pretty thing, but then they all were. Want to bait the fish? Need a tempting lure.
“I’m Leilani Kealo—”
“I’m not interested,” I grumped. My stomach growled; even my body hated her intrusion.
Her expression darkened. “You don’t even know what I want.”
“Not interested in a sponsorship.” I did my best to ignore her exotic beauty and enticing curves when I uttered the rest with a poker face, “Not interested in a beach-bunny fuck.”
Her eyes narrowed, gaze locked to mine. Unlike all the others, she didn’t notice my body. They’d always swept hungry gazes over me like I was a mouthwatering cut of steak. But not her.
“I’m not interested in either.”
I snorted. “On an isolated beach that took me days to find, on a tiny island in the middle of the South Pacific, you show up with your very Hawaiian sounding name” —I arched my brows on a questioning pause— “standing by my stuff. What do you want, then?”
Fists clenching tight, she rose to her full height—all five-foot-nothing of her—pulled back her slim shoulders, and lifted her chin. “Not a damn thing.”
She scowled then stormed off in a huff.
I grinned, entertained by the drama.
But a frown pulled at my mouth as I watched her.
She plucked a stubbed-antenna satellite phone from a front pocket of her short flowery dress and crossed the single-lane dirt road. A horn blared from the one moving car on the roadway as she stepped in front of its bumper without looking up. Hand still on her phone, she held the other up and gave a slight apologetic headshake to the driver. After jogging out of harm’s way, she stopped a short distance down an alley beside the only restaurant on our windward side of the island, then dropped her head, talking into the phone.
Curious, I grabbed my gear and followed.
“…don’t know why. Yeah, probably every other idiot after a money grab. No, I know that’s not what we’re—” She paused, as if cut off. “I’m here aren’t I? N’kay, fine. I will. I will try. Yeah, Makani, ʻohana. I know. How can I forget? You keep reminding me.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Gotta go,” she murmured into the phone before dropping it back into her pocket.
Coffee-brown eyes pegged me with a penetrating gaze. On a slow breath, her expression softened and she gave me an assessing once-over. “Could we—”
“Look I was—” I ran a hand through my hair.
“—start over? I didn’t mean to stomp off…”
“—rude back there…” We paused, processing what we’d said while talking over each other.
She let out a defeated sigh. “Could I buy you lunch?”
“Now that I’m interested in.” I leaned my board against the faded red wall beside the door.
When I gestured an arm ahead for her to take the lead, she paused in the doorway and stared at my beat-up surfboard. “Not windsurfing?”
“Not always.” Obviously.
“But you do windsurf…competitively?”
“Plan to.”
Also obvious? Her line of questioning. It smacked of sponsorship.
I held up two fingers to my man Rico behind the bar and he nodded. By the time I glanced back, she’d already grabbed a table by the window, one apparently she’d claimed before: Pale green sandals hung from a corner of her wood chair, a Tommy Bahama beach bag slumped on another chair nearest the cement wall, right under a framed and signed black-and-white picture of surfing icon Kelly Slater.
“But…” The furrow between her brows deepened. “I thought you won two competitions.”
“Did you see them?” Didn’t deny it, but wanted to know how devoted she was to her cause.
“No, but—”
My stomach growled again. Matched my mood. “What do you want to eat?”
“What do you recommend?” She cut a glance toward the menu-board over the bar.
Rico slid two beers between us, then dropped an appraising look at her before arching a brow at me while he answered her question, “Fish tacos.”
“Done.” I gave a short nod. “Five. I’m starved.”
She spread a paper napkin over her lap with an outward sweep of her hands. “Two, please.”
Please. The proper way she said the word struck a chord. So did the poised manner in which she held herself and the way she’d schooled her expression after the phone call. Her overall demeanor, including how she controlled her breaths and her practiced smile, pinged an alert with me—an undercurrent rumbled beneath her carefully polished surface.
Impressed with the flair in which she hid her true nature, I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair. I studied her with an unwavering stare.
“Why are you here?” Direct. I was all about getting to the bottom of her mission.
“Your sailboard.”
I blinked. “My equipment brought you here?”
“And my brother.” Almost imperceptibly, she let her perfect posture slump on a short sigh.
“Your brother.” The word flattened with my growing confusion.
“Makani.” She gave a nod, as if his name explained everything. After taking a healthy swallow of her beer, she stared at the amber bottle for several long seconds.
Then the most amazing thing happened: She smiled.
And the exotic girl who’d been merely pretty…became stunning.
I watched with fascination as a spark of wild defiance transformed her expression. Her honey-bronze skin flushed pink up her slender neck to her defined cheekbones. Long dark lashes blinked heavily an instant before greater amusement lit up her eyes.
And then it died. Gone in a flash.
Hmmm. “Gonna need more info.”
“Those two competitions.” She waved a hand toward the breaking waves outside the open window. “You won them on his sailboard. And he wants to sponsor you for windsurfing competitions.”
Finally. The nuts and bolts of it. “Don’t need a sponsor.”
“He’ll pay you well.”
“So will all the others.” Half a dozen big names so far. “Don’t need money.”
Without skipping a beat, her head tilted a fraction. “What do you need?”
Damn good question.
I stared long and hard at a girl vastly different than me…and yet entirely familiar.
She held herself with a certain grace I’d seen play out my whole life. You can’t fake that. Refined. Well-mannered.
Yet I saw right through her mirror-calm surface no matter how expertly she masked it.
Because a similar rebellion railed deep within me.
“Not a damn thing.” Total truth.
Because all anyone needed was food, water, shelter, and sex.
And…the size of my trust fund would cover that for small nations ten times over. But I’d abandoned civilized life to wander the world uncharted.
She frowned, and her lower lip pouted out into something almost as amazing as her smile.
“But there is something I want.”
Her expression brightened. “What’s that?”
“You live in Hawaii?” Educated guess with her name and accent, but had to be sure.
“Yeah, Maui.”
“Perfect.” Actually, fucking perf
ect. Windsurfing mecca. But I kept calm: the art of negotiation. Cade, my friend and former roommate, would be proud. “I need a place to live.”
“To live?”
“Your place?”
“Nooo.” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Definitely not.”
“Nearby, then. You’ll hook me up with something.”
The headshake thing happened again. Her lips parted, her hardening expression broadcasting loud and clear that a fierce protest was coming.
Unwilling to hear her argument on an empty stomach, I cut her off with a piercing look. Then I added to my list of demands, “Waves to windsurf.”
Her features softened as she nodded. “All year round at Hoʻokipa Beach.”
An electric thrill charged through me as I pictured endless surfing—one thing I’d never gone after before.
“And a personal guide.”
“Guide?”
“Assistant. PR rep. Whatever you want to call yourself.”
“Me?”
“You.”
“No way.”
“Only way it’s happening.”
Her eyes narrowed, breaths shallowing as she struggled to maintain that cool composure. “Why?”
Yeah…why?
Pretty sure I hadn’t knocked my head on coral in the surf today.
Damn sure wasn’t looking for a relationship—just got out of one.
But when an adventure-bound guy, who could have anything, sits in front of a girl with enough fire in her to make every step of the journey ahead a glorious fight?
She becomes the only thing he wants.
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Kat Bastion won several awards for her bestselling debut novel Forged in Dreams and Magick.
Kat and Stone Bastion’s bestselling first novel No Weddings and the No Weddings series were named Best of 2014 by multiple romance review blogs.
When not defining love and redemption through scribed words, they enjoy spending their time mountain biking and hiking in the beautiful Sonoran Desert of Arizona.
Stay in touch with them on their social media pages:
@KatBastion
@StoneBastion
Kat & Stone Bastion
www.talktotheshoe.com
www.katbastion.com
Keep informed of new releases by joining their Email Subscription list.
One lucky subscriber will win an eBook of their choice from the backlist AND a $10 gift card each time a preorder or new-release announcement is sent.
We promise to email only a handful of times a year to announce pre-orders and new releases.
Your purchase of Heartbreaker helps the victims of human trafficking because a portion of the net proceeds of all Kat and Stone Bastion’s books are donated to charities who support them. These charities are creating legislation and prosecuting criminals, rescuing and restoring victims, and raising awareness in the effort to eradicate the tragedy of human trafficking.
Please visit the Charity Support and Awareness page on their website www.katbastion.com and blog www.talktotheshoe.com to learn about some of the organizations they donate to and to find out how you can further support them.
“A single act of kindness is the foundation of many miracles.”
~ Kat Bastion, Utterly Loved.
Heartbreaker is a book of fiction. Names, characters, places, occurrences, and theories are the products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, locales, events or theories is wholly coincidental.
The authors acknowledge the trademark status and trademark owners of products, names, and/or phrases mentioned within this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication of the trademarks are not authorized by, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Heartbreaker
COPYRIGHT © 2016 Kat Bastion with Stone Bastion. All rights reserved.
Except by a book reviewer, who may quote brief passages for the specific purpose of reviewing this book, no part of this book may be reproduced, copied, stored, scanned, transmitted or distributed in any form or by any means, including but not limited to mechanical, printed, or electronic form, without prior written permission of the authors. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. To reach the authors, please visit either their blog at www.talktotheshoe.com or their website at www.katbastion.com and complete the contact form on Kat & Stone’s Connections page.
Cover Design by ©Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations
Image provided by Love N. Books
Photographer: Scott Hoover
Model: Hollis W. Chambers
First Printing, March 2016
ISBN: 9780996418140
Interior design and formatting by:
www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com
Table of Contents
About Heartbreaker
Praise for the NO WEDDINGS SERIES
Title Page
Other Books by Kat Bastion with Stone Bastion
Dedication
1 - The Target
2 - The Girl
3 - The Light of Day
4 - Sparks Flying
5 - The Muscular Form
6 - In Theory
7 - Scaling Mountains
8 - Falling Off Course
9 - Race Against Time
10 - Riding the Edge
11 - Sugarcoating Man Candy
12 - New Rhythms in Play
13 - Close to the Chest
14 - Playing with Fire
15 - Heightened Awareness
16 - Past and Present Colliding
17 - Exposed
18 - Running in Circles
19 - A Moment of Gravity
20 - Enough
21 - Finding the Undertones
22 - Open Flame
23 - The Greater the Fall
24 - Rooftop Revelations
25 - Gripped by the Past
26 - To Those Who Wait
27 - Letting Go
28 - Hiding Under the Covers
29 - Deeper Connections
30 - Synchronicity
31 - Saving Me
32 - In Plain Sight
33 - Fighting Harder
34 - Who’s On First?
35 - Close Call
36 - Forever Away
37 - The Responsible Thing
38 - Amplified Silence
39 - Unexpected Lesson
40 - The Finish Line
Epilogue
Note from Author Stone Bastion…
Rule Breaker Sneak Peek
About the Authors
Charity Support and Awareness
Copyright Notice