Page 24 of Gabriel (Legacy of Heathens #4)

Gabriel

I woke up to the gentle sway of the sea and the faint groan of a yacht cutting through dark water. For one stupid, wonderful second, I convinced myself I was hungover in some overpriced five-star suite, drowning in room service and bad decisions.

Then the cold bite of metal pressed against my wrist pulled me back to reality, and I remembered the plan I’d set out to accomplish. My eyes snapped open, and as I tried to sit up, the sharp clink of chains rattled against the polished headboard.

She cuffed me to the bed.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, blinking away the fog. I was anticipating kidnapping, but not damned handcuffs.

The sheets beneath me were soft and comfortable, but the metal around my wrists definitely wasn’t. I tugged at the cuffs, testing their strength. Solid. No wiggle, no give.

I had to hand it to her—Amara didn’t just wing this. She planned it down to the last thread.

Too bad for her, I was already two steps ahead.

The cabin smelled like salt, leather, and her vanilla perfume. It brought me back a few hours to the moment I captured her lips with mine. That hadn’t been part of the plan either, but hell if I was going to turn a good thing down.

Footsteps echoed as they approached, then the creak of the cabin door sounded and the woman starring in all my fantasies stepped in holding two mugs of coffee.

Hopefully they weren’t poisoned; you could never be certain when it came to Amara.

I grinned like I hadn’t just woken up in a real-life episode of Kidnapped: The Sexy Edition .

“Well, well, well,” I said. “If it isn’t Colombia’s most charming kidnapper.”

“I was going for the world’s most charming kidnapper. Or at least South America,” she replied, raising a brow. “You’re awake.”

“Unfortunately.” I rattled the cuffs. “Tell me—is this part of the hospitality package? Or did I accidentally sign up for the deluxe experience?”

She set one mug on the bedside table and sipped from hers, not even blinking. It was so classically Amara, beautiful and impossible to fluster.

“Sorry about the restraints,” she said casually. “I couldn’t risk you killing me in my sleep.”

I barked out a laugh, the sound edged with something dangerous and not entirely sane.

“Kill you? Amara, preciosa , I just dropped a small fortune on lobster and wine for you. The kind of lobster that comes with its own zip code. I was halfway to proposing. You could’ve just asked me to come on your yacht. You know, like a normal person.”

She tilted her head. “Would you have told me the truth?”

I wouldn’t have, because I couldn’t trust Amara enough. Besides, even if I did tell her everything, starting with that outrageous proposition Jet had made over eight months ago, she wouldn’t believe me.

The bottom line was that we didn’t trust each other.

“Would you believe anything I said?” Her expression confirmed my suspicion. “There you go. Nonetheless, I would’ve appreciated the courtesy of being asked to come to your little yacht here.”

“I wasn’t gonna risk you turning the tables and kidnapping me, Santos.”

“Well, I hope you thought this through and at least lined up snacks and a playlist. Something moody, with songs about betrayal and lust.”

Her lips twitched into a near-smile. It was almost criminal how that small thing could make my heart stutter.

“You’re taking this well,” she said, watching me with a narrowed gaze full of suspicion.

“Sweetheart, I’ve woken up in worse places. A bathtub in Marrakesh. A meat locker in Chicago. A priest’s closet in Warsaw. Don’t ask about that one.”

She laughed under her breath. I hated that I loved the sound of it.

I leaned back against the pillow and studied her.

“What’s this really about, Amara? Because this”—I raised the cuffs, letting the metal clink for emphasis—“is taking it a step too far. Although, I do kind of like it. It’s slightly erotic and quite kinky.”

“Don’t get yourself all worked up,” she chirped, rolling her eyes. “Although you might have to work up to the erotic.”

“Ah, you’re finally seeing things my way.” I grinned. “You keep surprising me with your flirtations.”

She let out an incredulous breath. “You certainly see positives in everything, Santos.”

“Wow, a compliment. Could it be you’re sorry for kidnapping me in such a manner?”

“No.”

Of course. I wouldn’t have expected anything else from her. “So, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

I wasn’t surprised she refused to answer.

“So why do you need me? Am I bait? A bargaining chip? Or just a really handsome hostage you plan to snap in half?” She didn’t answer. “You know, whatever it is you’re doing, you’ve just added trouble to your résumé by kidnapping me,” I continued soberly.

Amara nodded. “I’m well aware.”

“Why did you kidnap me?” I asked, determined to prod for any information.

“I’m sorry, but I need you.”

I let out a long breath. “Of course you do, and I have a feeling it has nothing to do with needing my body and everything to do with needing something entirely different. What is it?” She remained stubbornly silent, and I continued, “Did your brother put you up to it?”

Her lips tightened into a straight, silent line, making it clear she wouldn’t entertain any questions about Jet.

“Are you using me for leverage to find Jet?”

“Clearly I’m using you for something,” she answered indifferently.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to keep my composure. It wouldn’t do me any good to get mad. The main goal was to get some answers and charm Amara. Then I’d slowly instill doubt into her siblings’ actions and she’d start seeing them for the psychopathic assholes that they were.

“And Elira? Is she on your side or Jet’s?” I questioned, but Amara refused to take the bait. “Does this have anything to do with your siblings’ warning that I stay away from you? Is this payback?”

Surprise flashed in her eyes. Interesting .

“What warning?” she demanded. “What are you talking about?”

No way that she didn’t know, yet strangely I believed her reaction to be genuine.

“Your siblings and I crossed paths a few times,” I said slowly. “They demanded I keep my distance from you.”

Her lips parted. “When?”

“There’s been a couple of threats over the past few years,” I admitted.

“They’re protective.” She shrugged, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was convincing herself more than me. “Nothing wrong with that.”

I debated whether to tell her that Jet even suggested an exchange of women: Anya for Amara. But I decided against it. She wasn’t ready.

“Tell me why you were on my territory in the first place,” I finally said after a long pause. “I thought we were making progress in the jungle, and even yesterday at the restaurant. Now it feels like we’ve gone backward.”

She scoffed. “Why don’t you start by telling me everything, Santos? That would be a good step forward, instead of way too many questions. Especially for someone in your position.”

“Well, I’m not the one who crossed into your territory. You came to mine. That gives me the right to ask.”

“And yet,” she said with a smirk, “you’re the one kidnapped and handcuffed.”

“Touché, preciosa .” I chuckled dryly. “At least tell me you used the good tranquilizer. Not the kind that gives you a twitchy eye and a limp dick.”

She tilted her head, amused. “Don’t worry about your dick, Santos. I used the best on the market.”

“Thank you. That’s so thoughtful of you.”

That made her laugh softly, almost guiltily, while something flickered in her eyes. Something warm. Something tired.

I looked at her seriously. “You know I’m not staying in these, right?”

“For now you are. I need you to listen.”

I smirked. “Then you better make it interesting.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but then the door swung wide again.

Dios santo , Elira looked just as menacing as the last time I saw her. Her dark gaze swung from me to Amara, a smirk playing at her lips. I should probably be more concerned about the danger I was in, but something about the scene was too ridiculous to take seriously.

“Took him long enough to wake up,” Elira drawled as she strolled in wearing tactical black, a knife strapped to her hip, and—because life was full of contradictions—a plate of toast in hand like she was delivering a casual breakfast, not crashing a kidnapping.

“You know what I just learned?” Amara asked, sipping her coffee while keeping her attention on her sister. There was a barely noticeable tension in her shoulders that Elira seemed to miss.

“What?”

“That you and Jet cornered Gabriel?—”

“Not exactly cornered,” Elira cut her off, narrowing her cat eyes on me.

“Semantics,” Amara gritted. “You two demanded Gabriel keep away from me.”

Elira shrugged. “Well, it’s not like you liked him.”

A slight flush stained Amara’s cheeks.

“That’s not the point, Elira. I know you’re protective, but I can handle myself and—” She tilted her chin my way as she continued, “I can certainly handle him.”

“Fine,” Elira hissed. “You have my word. I won’t be threatening him to stay away from you anymore. In fact, you two can shag like rabbits and I won’t say a thing.”

“So nice to have your permission, Elira.” My tone dipped with sarcasm. “It’s what I live for.”

Elira rolled her eyes, then purred with poisonous sweetness, “I’m so happy to see you again, Santos. Too bad the circumstances are just as shitty for you.”

I smiled with fake sweetness. “Not as shitty as you think.”

“Oh my, you’re so delusional. Just because my sister kissed you doesn’t mean she likes you.”

Amara’s head whipped back and forth, her blush turning a deeper shade of red. “Stop it, you two.”

Elira shot me a glare before turning to look at her sister and I was taken aback by the soft expression on her face. It appeared almost foreign on her, but it was clear she loved Amara.

“Sorry, sis. He started it.”

Amara sighed. “How many times exactly did you guys meet ?”

“We ‘crossed paths’ twice.” I tried and failed to bring up my hands to form air quotes around the words.

“I’m surprised you lived to tell the tale,” Elira drawled as she rolled her eyes and crossed the room. “It’s a shame that Amara is kind of obsessed with you.”

My brows arched in surprise. “She is?”

“I’m not,” Amara protested.

Elira didn’t pay her any mind.

“Yes, she is.” Elira pinned me with a look as if she was proving a point. “I knew it the minute she spent an hour picking earrings for dinner. You don’t accessorize for kidnapping unless you’re emotionally compromised.”

I glanced up at the cuffs biting into my wrists, then around at the two women in the room. Both could probably kill me with a teaspoon and would argue over who would get the honors.

The absurdity of it hit me all at once as I muttered, “Lucky me.”

Somewhere deep in the back of my brain, Luis’s voice echoed, warning me that I was fucked. And honestly? I was starting to feel like it too.