Page 103 of Gabriel
“What?” Her voice was low, and her expression unreadable.
“I overheard Elira on the phone,” I said. “With Jet.”
She sucked in a breath. “How would you know it was him?”
“She had him on speaker.”
Amara’s brows drew together, the shift in her demeanor visible.
“Jet mentioned distracting you,” I continued.
“From what?”
Fuck, I was tempted to lie, but I couldn’t. “Their conversation was vague, but I think it was about Jet going for Anya.”
“Why wait until now to tell me?” she asked, pulling her hand from my chest.
“Because last night was real, and I don’t want to ruin this thing between us.” I paused, feeling the ugly knot of guilt coiling low in my gut. “But you deserve the truth, even if it shatters what we’ve built.”
She sat up, the sheet slipping down her body, revealing the scar on her abdomen.
“How do I trust this isn’t you manipulating me?” she asked. “That you’re not just playing me against my family?”
“I’m not here to play anyone,” I said, voice steady. “I just need you to keep your eyes open. And I need Jet to stay away from Anya.”
She exhaled sharply, staring at me with disbelief. “I already told you, there is no Jet and Anya. They’ve never even met.”
“Amara, have I ever lied to you?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Not that I know of. But we haven’t exactly had years of honest conversations between us.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding since she withdrew her hand and reached for it again, brushing my thumb over the soft skin of her wrist.
“From the get-go, I was honest about my intentions.”
She said nothing as she slid out of bed and stood up, then began to get dressed. Her pants, her T-shirt, and finally her holster. I followed suit, dressing without a word, because whatever warmth lingered between us had cooled into something sharper.
“I think it’s time I have a heart-to-heart with my sister,” she finally said.
“I’m going with you,” I retorted. Her gaze flicked to mine—reluctant, searching. “I don’t trust your siblings.”
“You’ve made that perfectly clear,” she said without much bite to her words, and I couldn’t help but think that she was starting to not trust them either.
Amara
We’d be in Albania in two days, and I couldn’t afford to discount Gabriel’s words. I didn’t believe them, but if he overheard Elira with Jet, then something was going on, and I had a right to know what.
The stairs up to the sundeck were slick with condensation, the morning heat already turning the ship into a low-simmering oven. The blue sea stretched out around us, blinding beneath the rising sun.
I barely noticed it.
Gabriel walked beside me in silence, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps.
Elira was exactly where I expected her, leaning against the railing, a glass of an umbrella drink in her hand while wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini. Her sunglasses were perched on the edge of her nose, and that obnoxiously loud yellow swimsuit clung like it had an agenda while her golden hair spilled down her back, swaying with every practiced tilt of her head.
She threw her head back and cackled, brushing her hand against the captain’s arm. The laugh was as fake as her interest in him. I knew that much.
“Elira,” I called out.
