Two of Hearts Read online

  PRAISE FOR THE NOVELS

  OF CHRISTINA LEE

  Before You Break

  “The perfect blend of sizzling sexual tension and deliciously steamy scenes that jump off of the page. Christina Lee is a New Adult wonder.”

  —USA Today bestselling author Alice Clayton

  “Quinn is hot, ladies. A powerful and devastatingly gut-wrenching love story. Christina did an amazing job with the tough subject matter from a fresh, new perspective.”

  —The Rock Stars of Romance

  “Loved it! Sweet and sexy and sad and full of hope. Love Quinn and Ella together.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Monica Murphy

  “You will devour this book! Christina Lee makes you ache, cry, smile, and sigh. She is officially at the top of my autobuy list!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Sophie Jordan

  “Christina Lee does it again . . . another emotional, sexually charged story that will keep you turning the page. Quinn is the bad boy your heart can’t help but to break for, and Ella is the girl you can’t help but admire. Together, their chemistry is both believable and HOT.”

  —Stina Lindenblatt, author of Tell Me When

  “Deep, powerful, and stirred up all the emotions within me as I read. . . . [It] swept me away, kept me entranced, and, in the end, filled me with warm, gooey satisfaction.”

  —Rachel Harris, author of Seven Day Fiancé

  “The emotional, sexy Before You Break proves Christina Lee has done the unthinkable and made me love Quinn as much as Bennett.”

  —Megan Erickson, author of Make It Count

  “As much as I loved the first book in the series with super-yummy Bennett, I loved Before You Break even more. For me, Quinn rocked my world even harder.”

  —Bookish Temptations

  All of You

  “Five words to describe this book (and you’ll get this once you read it): hot, sweet, emotional, page-turner, awesome.”

  —New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy

  “A fresh and fascinating twist on the classic love story. At its core, All of You is pure NA goodness, full of mistrust and hardened hearts, angst and anguish, hot and steamy scenes, and a satisfying HEA.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Jasinda Wilder

  “I could not put it down. From steamy to sweet and every emotion in between, Christina Lee had me glued to the pages in her unforgettable debut, All of You. This is one New Adult you don’t want to miss.”

  —New York Times bestselling author A. L. Jackson

  “Bennett stole my heart! If you like hot, sweet, sexy, caring good guys, he’ll claim yours too.”

  —New York Times bestselling author Lauren Blakely

  “Steamy, honest, and full of heart . . . one of the best heroes I’ve read all year. A fantastic debut!”

  —New York Times bestselling author Roni Loren

  “Smoking-hot . . . a must read. Hands down one of the best I’ve read this year.”

  —Juliana Stone, author of The Summer He Came Home

  “Heat, heart, humor, and a hot guy . . . All of You has everything you could ask for. A fantastic debut I couldn’t put down!”

  —Rachel Harris, author of Seven Day Fiancé

  “All of You delivered.”

  —Dear Author

  “[A] beautiful story . . . a hot New Adult novel with amazing characters and a sizzling romance.”

  —Dark Faerie Tales

  “This is an amazing story of hope. . . . Thank you, Christina Lee, for gifting us with this story and these characters.”

  —Bookish Temptations

  Also by Christina Lee

  All of You

  Before You Break

  Whisper to Me

  Promise Me This

  There You Stand

  Beneath Your Layers, a novella in When We Met

  SIGNET ECLIPSE

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) LLC, 375 Hudson Street,

  New York, New York 10014

  USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia | New Zealand | India | South Africa | China

  penguin.com

  A Penguin Random House Company

  First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

  Copyright © Christina Lee, 2015

  Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

  SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

  Two of hearts/Christina Lee.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-0-698-18416-9

  I. Title.

  PS3612.L325T96 2015

  813'.6—dc23 2014044960

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Version_1

  Contents

  Praise

  Also by Christina Lee

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Letter to Readers

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  To my mom and dad. You immigrated to this country and then fought to make a better life. In your unassuming way, you taught me how to dream big.

  Dear Reader:

  We can probably all agree that there needs to be more diversity in romance novels. Probably all novels in general. Having said that, writing about diverse characters in books can feel daunting for an author. It can be tricky and scary to take on the challenge, because we desperately want to get it right.

  This is my second time writing about the Nakos family and this Native American community. The first time was in WHISPER TO ME, a book in my New Adult series. But what makes this experience different is that the nature of the plot required me to take an additional amount of time to consider all options and points of view. I immersed myself deeply in the culture through dozens of hours of research.

  Even still, there was much more to learn and discov
er. All of it awe-inspiring and devastating and beautiful.

  But as this book goes out into the world, I remember what one of my sources said. That within each culture, gender, age, or socioeconomic status, there are differences—in opinions and traditions and mind-sets. And unless you’ve actually lived in the community or culture you are writing about, you won’t inherently know it. You can only try your best in your interpretation of it. That’s what I’ve aimed to do here.

  Still, any mistakes or misinterpretations are my own. I painstakingly tried my best to create a story that I hope you will thoroughly enjoy.

  Chapter One

  DAKOTA

  I inhaled a shaky breath as his coffin lowered into the solid ground. The drumbeat echoed in my bones and the tortoiseshell rattle reverberated in my veins. The holy man murmured his final offering in each direction of the wind—north, east, south, west—and then thanked the Great Spirit for safely seeing my father home.

  My mother’s quiet whimpering added mass to the hard ball developing in my throat, and my vision blurred through the haze of my own tears. But still I held on to that breath—because when I finally expelled the air from my lungs, it would all be over. Different. Altered forevermore.

  My father would truly be gone. And I’d be left in charge of operations at the Golden Arrow Casino.

  For the past two weeks, I’d been going through the motions while the police conducted their investigation and the autopsy was performed. But this—the actual cemetery, the sacred ritual—made it absolute. And the finality of that was staggering.

  I averted my gaze from the six-foot hole because the throbbing in my chest became so severe; it felt as if my heart had vacated my torso, leaving an enormous crevice. Thank goodness I remained steady in my sensible black heels and had kept my swollen eyes hidden behind my shades. I needed to stay strong for my mother and this community.

  My brother Kai’s fingers slid beyond my mother’s arm to reach my shoulder, and finally I released a puff of air. I gave him and his wife, Rachel, a slight nod, then offered a brief glance to my uncle Elan and his family, standing on just the other side.

  Stuart, my father’s most trusted employee and friend, stood across the rectangular pit next to Chief Red Hawk and other casino employees. He was always the rock, the voice of reason, and he’d let me lean on him the last two weeks as pressure mounted and decisions were made about the casino going forward.

  Finally, I allowed my eyes to scan across the grass to the crowd gathered around. Old and new friends, members of the reservation and of the tribal nation respectfully mourned my father’s death. Later, these same people would be whispering about how his passing had impacted our community and our family’s business. The thought of their gossip made my stomach churn.

  Making a sweep past the trees, my gaze collided with a set of vivid blue eyes, like two pieces of sea glass lying in the warm and calming sand. The slice to my gut was so intense my shoulders slumped forward like I might be cut in half. Mom grabbed my arm right at that moment, either to hold herself or me up, and my eyes snapped back to my father’s grave.

  But Shane’s gaze remained fixed on me. I could feel it pressing in—cool and heated at the same time—similar to how that sea glass feels in your palm after hours in the surf. I gave him a cursory glance, quickly scrutinizing him the best I could, hoping my dark glasses hid my intentions. I hadn’t seen him in years, not since Kai’s wedding. Even when my brother, who’d been his best friend all throughout high school, had met with Shane during the holiday season, I always found some excuse to keep myself busy.

  Besides, it wasn’t like he’d tried reaching out to me the past five years. The last real conversation we had, if you could even call it that, was just before he left for his intensive Marshal training.

  But as I stood at my father’s funeral, my emotions raw and at the surface, all my feelings for Shane hit me like a thunderclap, much the same way that sorrow always railroads me. Everything became clear, like the gleam on the edge of a knife. How I’d secretly adored him for years, even though I never said it aloud. And how once he finally returned my affection, we never got the chance to see it played out.

  My gaze traced the sweep of his eyebrow, the curve of his mouth, the indent in his cheek. Then it moved down to his long fingers that now tap, tap, tapped his muscular thigh. I remembered how those same nails had dug into my hip as he’d thrust me forward so he could bury his head in my neck. Remembering was so overwhelming that I nearly sank to my knees in the grass.

  His years of chasing fugitives as a United States Marshal had kept him fit. His broad shoulders filled out the black suit and his close-cropped hair illuminated those baby blues. I had to force my gaze away, which only sent me back to the tragedy at hand. My senses pelted from all sides. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the rest of the day. Let alone the year.

  As the funeral attendees filed past the grave to throw handfuls of cornmeal or evergreen boughs onto the wooden casket, an ominous fog arose from the ground. Gloomy clouds aligned overhead, casting a dusky silhouette, and almost at once it began to mist. The wetness soothed my heated skin and I welcomed it, tilting my cheeks to the sky.

  Rachel’s hand grasped my arm, her low voice urging me to move forward, and when I cast my gaze around, only our immediate family remained. The funeral attendees had drifted back to their cars, some already pulling away from the curb and heading toward the exit. As a group, the four of us moved closer to the remains of my father.

  We stood with our arms intertwined in a semicircle. No one spoke as we each said our private, ultimate good-byes. I closed my eyes and whispered my final peace. I’ll make you proud, Daddy.

  My shoulder took the brunt of her weight as my mother’s knees gave out, so I shifted and tightened my grip on her waist. As her sobs set my teeth on edge and carved deeper grooves in my soul, Kai took firm hold, tugging both of us into his arms.

  When I turned to the parking lot, I spotted Shane and a flare of nostalgia wrapped over my senses, swathing me in comfort. But everything about him seemed different. He stood near a sleek Range Rover, which was a stark contrast to his beat-up high school truck. Even his very being seemed larger, not just in stature but also in self-possession. He was an imposing figure, monopolizing all the air in the space between us.

  His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and his muscular chest filled out his crisp white shirt almost too well. His eyes remained glued to mine and I nearly faltered, so pure was my longing for him in that moment. Instead, I tipped up my chin and stayed poised.

  I’d never forgotten how it felt to have him leave, first after our secret summer together and then after college graduation. He’d always been the one to go. Which meant that I never was important enough for him to stay. But the problem was that nobody else since had felt essential enough to fill the void that Shane had created in my world.

  Now another important man had disappeared from my life. My father. My pillar. My heart. And I was left holding all of the pieces. Again. It’s simply not true that leaving is the hardest thing. Being left was a far worse penalty.

  I gazed across the expanse of trees and lawn, trying to keep in the tears threatening to escape my eyes once again. Then I looked down at Shane, who mouthed a single word to me.

  Two syllables that could mean so many things, given our history.

  “Sorry.”

  Chapter Two

  SHANE

  I drove through the cemetery’s ornate gates with my thoughts still entirely centered on Dakota. Five years later, she was still the most gorgeous girl I had ever laid eyes on. And now she was even more beautiful. She was all woman. Her legs long and solid, her hips lush, and her breasts full. Allowing my mind to drift to those few times she’d been wrapped around me, her scent like new grass after a fresh rain, was pure torture.

  This was her father’s funeral and I needed to snap the hell out of it. Still, the idea of holding her, comforting her made my fingers itch, my
skin flush. I wanted to be there for her in her grief. True, my best friend, who just so happened to be her brother, looked worn out, but there was no one I felt the urge to support as much as her.

  Mr. Nakos’s death had been a huge blow to his community. Knifed in a parking lot and robbed of a few bucks, it was such a senseless death and one that reminded me of how fragile life was. The thugs I dealt with pulled shit like this every day, not even realizing the pain they put the families of their victims through. It was hard for me to keep my cool and not want to tear their heads off.

  Out of habit I looked at each and every guest who had attended this funeral and even scouted out the perimeter of the grounds to see who else might’ve been lurking around this huge crowd. It was in my blood to be on constant alert, aware of my surroundings, and to proceed with caution.

  Everything seemed to check out despite the tension in the air. The reservation was on edge. I could see it on the casino employees’ faces, ones I recognized from when I used to work there in high school and college. Stuart and Sam, Meadow and Grayson, all still employed in the family-friendly casino. They were hurting, sure, upset about this death. But there was something else there—an undercurrent that I couldn’t quite place my finger on.

  As I hung a left at the light in the Commons where Kai’s studio was located, I considered whether or not to drive directly to the Nakos estate where I had been invited after the ceremony. Because that would place me in close proximity to Dakota again. But being around her would bring back that same feeling I’d just had at the ceremony—that tightness in my chest. That overwhelming urge to pull her into the safety of my arms. This was why you didn’t date your best friend’s sister.

  In reality, I should just drive the hell back out of town. But this is where I had grown up. They were like family to me, and they had just suffered a huge loss. I wanted to be here for them. I needed to be here for me.

  I had worked in that casino for years, knew this culture, respected it like hell, and felt relaxed around this community. The Nakoses had always been successful and Dakota was no exception. I always knew she’d make a name for herself.