Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2)

by Suzanne Halliday

  “Oh god, I’m so sorry. For everything. Please believe me. I didn’t want any of this. Why does it have to be so fucked up?”

  He gathered her close. She hadn’t fallen—not exactly, but he still managed to catch her.

  “Here’s the deal, Angie,” he said after a bit. “We agree, about this, right?” he asked. “It’s you and me now. We’re going to figure out what we want.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, so I don’t want to hear you say that again. Understood?”

  Oh, my. She liked that growly thing he had going on. If he kept that up, her panties were going to melt right off.

  “And then you don’t leave my fucking sight. Plain and simple. As long as that fucknut is at the Villa, so am I.”

  She smiled and bit the inside of her mouth to keep from giggling. This was one of those moments she wanted to remember. It was not every day that a badass rock ‘n’ roll rebel, Alpha, ninja lawyer staked a claim.

  “Okay,” she replied meekly.

  Mmmm. The flaring nostrils and the way his eyes darkened at her easy submission gave her an unbelievable thrill. Definitely something for future reference.

  “You and I are riding back to the hacienda with Cam and Lacey. Your brother and a very pissed off Red are in charge of pussy boy. It’s been decided. His Angelina privileges have been permanently revoked.”

  Oooh! She liked the way that sounded. Liked the way he said it as if someone was in danger of getting their ass kicked. And speaking of ass kicking, putting her and Parker under the same roof might get a little . . . dicey.

  “Um . . .” she started jerkily.

  “Don’t worry.” He chuckled. “Alex is cool, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be dusting you for fingerprints.”

  His tone changed. “I told you before, that I didn’t treat you right and that’s not happening this time.”

  Angie tilted her head so she could better see his face.

  “Am I going to fuck you senseless? Yes. Count on it. Frequently, in fact. But we’re doing this the right way and jumping into bed isn’t a great way to start.”

  “But . . .”

  He gave her this stern look that must have thought was his Tarzan expression. Wow. He wasn’t joking.

  Shit. Be careful what you wish for, huh? She wanted more than sex, but that didn’t mean she wanted to live like a nun. Was her own damn fault for letting him think he had to prove something. How come there wasn’t a middle ground that would satisfy them both?

  Lacey and Angie were talking quietly together in the back of an enormous Escalade while he sat in the front passenger seat next to Cam. Traveling along nearly desolate stretches of road that led them away from town out into the desert, Parker considered some of the thoughts whirling in his head.

  Something wasn’t right about any of this. Esperanza’s belligerent outrage in the face of being clearly outnumbered, overwhelmed, and tied up in Justice knots didn’t add up. He was a self-serving little prick, so discovering what he hoped to achieve with his continuing combativeness was at the top of Parker’s priority list.

  That decided, he zeroed in on the sound of Angel’s voice coming from the backseat. He was relieved that she was as together as she appeared considering that twenty minutes ago she’d been in avenging Angel mode. A scuffle had come close to breaking out when they were assembling in the parking lot to work out who was riding with whom.

  The girl was mighty impressive when she was worked up! It was funny when she went off, which had been the case when Alex tried walking Esperanza to the limo without incident. Ha! Fat chance of that happening once he hurled a few insults in Parker’s direction. At least he thought they were insults—Spanish never came easy for him—but Angie certainly understood whatever he said and went after the idiot in the space of a single breath with some pretty fabulous flashes of badassery in that parking lot.

  The whole incredible scene was nearly indescribable. They’d been talking quietly to Draegyn and Victoria, leaning against the side of a truck, waiting for everyone else to catch up. Not knowing what was coming at them next and feeling unusually protective because he knew damn well their whole situation was in motion, he’d been guardedly scanning the parking lot while attempting to stay in the conversation.

  Distracted for seconds, he hadn’t seen Alex and Esperanza come around the corner of the building until all hell was breaking loose.

  Finding Parker standing with his arm languidly draped about Angie’s waist with a hand possessively on her ass must have been Esperanza’s last straw cause next thing any of them knew, the little shit started freaking out in a different language.

  Angel immediately went into fuck-off-and-die mode and began arguing with him, also in a different language. There was a bunch of hand gestures and her posture evolved into something more dangerous than friendly.

  He actively held her back from tearing the man a new rectum, while Alex kept a firm hand on her antagonist’s shoulder. Parker knew if he slacked up on his hold, she’d be on the fucker in a heartbeat.

  Drae tried to step between them as they furiously screamed and yelled at each other but quickly backed off with his hands up in surrender when his wife rather sternly told him to let Angie deal with it.

  Shit was racing to an eleven as Angie just got more and more furious. Whatever they were saying to each other could not have been pretty. He almost lost his grip around her waist when she suddenly went completely batshit and began kicking. He probably shoulda let her stomp the motherfuck out of him. Those boots she was wearing could have left some permanent damage.

  Barry appeared on the scene, asking if they needed his help. Parker really couldn’t answer. It was taking all of his concentration to keep Angie in check.

  All the while, Esperanza was still shrieking like a girl.

  “Dirty old man? Grandpa? Is that fucker kidding?” Barry yelped when he heard what was being said.

  “Are you fucking serious?” Drae barked at the translation.

  Thanks, dude, Parker thought. Owe you one, man. Now that everyone knew the little fucker was basically standing there calling him names, he’d had enough. And so had Angie. It was cute as shit that she was so eager to defend him but enough was enough.

  “Alex,” Parker bit out. “Shut that motherfucker up or I will.”

  In what could only be described as perfect timing, Cam and Lacey pulled alongside them. “Get in,” Cam grumbled darkly as he kept an eye while Alex shuffled their unwelcome visitor toward the limo. Ben, who knew better than to get involved, was already wisely in the car with the engine running.

  Dragging a still sputtering and wildly gesturing Angelina to the passenger side of Cam’s vehicle, he helped Lacey slide from the front then hastily pulled open the backseat door so he could deposit his snarling lady inside and out of the line of fire. Lacey hurriedly climbed in beside her and shut the door.

  Before taking a seat, Parker let the explosion that had been building inside go off. Leaning over the hood of Cam’s big SUV, he pointed at the retreating shithead who got his woman all worked up and bellowed, “One more word out of your fucking mouth and you go through customs in a body bag.”

  When he slammed the door after getting seated and Cam started to drive off, it took less than five seconds for Angie to crack up laughing. Followed by a clearly relieved Lacey. Eventually, Cam started sniggering and Parker had to admit the dust-up had been pretty comical. Who knew Desert Angel was such a wild woman?

  Lowering the visor and flipping up the lighted mirror, Parker adjusted it until he had a clear view of Angie behind him.

  “You okay, honey?” It wasn’t too late to turn around and go back to Pete’s—teach that sniveling jackass a thing or two.

  The bewitching sapphire eyes that had captivated him from the time she was a baby focused on him in the mirror. Pissed him off that couldn’t read her expression in the dark.

  Parker regretted putting her into the back seat—away from h
im. Not that he’d had much choice. Despite the other couple present it would have been impossible not to make out with her in the moving car if they’d been sitting together

  All the tension inside him melted away when he felt her small hand touch his shoulder. He peered more closely in the mirrored visor. Of all the times to be serious, she chose this one to be an imp.

  “Are we there yet,” she whined jokingly. “How much looooonger?”

  He smiled. Turning his head, he reached for her fingers and kissed them lightly. Before he could return her playful banter, Lacey got them all laughing when she yanked a Dylan toy from the seatback. A colorful ring with noisy plastic shapes hanging from it. Shaking it in front of Angie’s face like she was distracting a grumpy baby, she cooed, “Who wants to play?”

  UGH. IT WAS TOO DAMN early for her. With dawn still an hour and a half away, Angie made her way silently from her bedroom down into the kitchen. Coffee was the only thing capable of saving her. Hot. Stat . . .

  Waiting for the pot to brew, she wandered around the huge space on bare feet, wishing she’d had enough sense to put on a robe. It was chilly overnight and with her short nightie barely covering her legs, she needed that hot drink.

  Spying a plate of shortbread on the counter, she snagged a couple of hunks. Angie groaned with each bite, using her tongue to wipe crumbs from her lips. Meghan was teaching Ria how to make the O’Brien Family recipe for the butter sweetened biscuit, so there seemed to be an endless fresh batch available for taste testing. And these? Oh, my god. Bliss.

  Grabbing a mug, she poured a large serving of java-energy, stopping at the frig to add a tremendous dollop of heavy cream then made her way quickly into Alex’s study—where she could shut the door and have a bit of privacy.

  Very, very glad that her brother had wisely converted the hacienda’s secondary fireplaces to gas, she got the flames dancing, snatched a soft throw blanket off the love seat and curled up in one of the matching leather chairs facing the hearth.

  After a couple of sips of the hot coffee, she felt clearer—which was absolutely necessary before she got on the phone.

  Mentally calculating the time difference, Angie glanced at the clock, and figured it was just after lunch at the winery—perfect time to get Sophie alone for a chat.

  “Hi, sweetie!” she chirped enthusiastically when she heard her big sister’s voice.

  “Angie!” Sophia yelled happily. “Oh, my goodness. What time is it in Arizona?” She laughed. “Hold on,” she quickly added. “What’s wrong? Are you in trouble?”

  Good lord. Being the little sister really could be trying at times. Not that she was complaining. After all, it was kind of cool knowing there were these other people in her corner who loved her unconditionally and would always have her back.

  Angie chuckled and hunkered down into the throw blanket, enjoying its softness and warmth. “Why’s it gotta be this way?” she teased. “How come the first thing you ask is whether I’ve screwed up or not?”

  Her sister mockingly bawled, “Because we’ve met before, remember?”

  “Ah. Good point. Score one for the big sis.”

  “Speaking of big,” Soph joked, “how’s that muscled lug masquerading as our brother? Arizona declare him the official state hulk yet?”

  “Wait till you meet Meghan, Soph. She’s just like she is on the phone but when you see the two of them together? Oh, my god, hon. It’ll melt your heart. The way he looks at her . . .”

  She couldn’t continue. Sophie knew what she was getting at. Being emotional about their beloved older brother was something the two sisters shared. Alexander was their hero—almost losing him had deepened their bond of love.

  “Mom’s shitting herself,” Soph jeered. “Did she tell you we’re stopping in New York before going to Boston? Shopping spree. With dad’s blessing, no less!”

  “Cha-ching,” Angie quipped.

  “Exactly! She got all worked up about meeting the O’Brien’s. Got it into her head that the Valleja-Marquez clan needs classing up. Something about old hippies and sweaty desert rats. According to Mom, the only way to deal with this is by shopping till we drop.”

  Angie roared with laughter but quickly bit off the sound remembering how early it was. Or how late. Depended on your point-of-view.

  With a bit of mockery, she told Sophie, “On the other side, we have the O’Brien’s who think that we’re some venerable European dynasty! What a laugh, huh? Red says her folks have practically redecorated their house attic to cellar so they don’t come off as lowly colonials.”

  “Well, if it all means I get to flounce around New York and park my ass at Barney’s Madison Avenue with a personal shopper before dropping some cold cash at FAO Schwarz before they close . . . the folks can freak out all they want!”

  Hmmm. “Are you really going to FAO?”

  “Absolutely! You want me to pick something up for you?”

  Angie’s mind swam with ideas before settling on something giggle worthy. Laughing quietly, she instructed Sophie with precisely what she wanted her to be on the lookout for.

  “Does this have anything to do with a certain rock ‘n’ roll lawyer?”

  “Oh,” Angie muttered in surprise. “You know about that?”

  Sophie laughed—she had one of those outrageously huge cackles that seemed incongruous coming from someone so serious minded.

  “For real?” her sister quipped dryly. “Ya do know that after you spilled your guts to mom, she started gathering a trousseau, right?”

  Aargh! Parents. “And let me guess—she’s burning up the phone lines with Aunt Wendy, too.”

  “Bull’s-eye,” Soph drawled. “I’m happy for you, sis. Parker’s amazing and it’s not like both families haven’t been secretly cheering you two on. I knew after Ronaldo’s skinny knees bumped the curb that you’d have to finally resolve the issues between you and the lawyer.”

  “Pfft, well it’s not completely resolved although we’re trying. And here’s the thing, sweetie,” she added. Taking another sip of coffee, she sat up and frowned. “Aldo is here.” No use in stating anything other than the facts. Soph would start tossing off questions anyway.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah. You heard me. Showed up yesterday morning.”

  “In Arizona?”

  She chortled hearing the confusion in her sister’s question.

  “Yep.”

  After a slight hesitation, Sophie asked for more clarification. She didn’t blame her. “Arizona as in Arizona in the USA?”

  Was there another one? Angie smirked. Sophie was just as flabbergasted by this turn of events as she was.

  “You heard right. Turned up out of the blue at the Villa. Piss poor timing, of course, but yeah. There you have it. My former fiancé has traveled to the foreign land of cowboys and Indians supposedly to fetch me home.”

  “Er, uh . . . what?”

  Angie sighed. Her sister’s reaction confirmed that nobody had seen this coming. Somehow, she was relieved.

  “That’s why I’m calling, Soph. Look, he’s up to something. There’s not a single, solitary reason why he should have flown all the way here. That door was nailed shut, if you know what I mean. And since he arrived, pretty much all he’s done is insult everyone in sight and act like a pretentious snot.”

  “And Alexander hasn’t served him up for dinner?”

  “Not yet but Aldo’s being such an insufferable shit that it could happen at any moment.”

  “Hmph,” Sophie grunted. “Interesting. A man you dumped months ago follows you to the States and figures antagonizing your Terminator-like sibling seems like a good move.”

  “See what I mean? Doesn’t that sound like he’s got an agenda? And not only that! He tried to throw Dad under the bus by insisting that’s how he knew where to find me.”

  “I remember he called into the winery about five days ago. Dad simply said you were with Alexander helping get things ready for the wedding.”

  “
Check things out for me, Soph. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Hey, no problem, Ang. You know I never liked that guy. Sorry sis, but you would have chopped Aldo up into little pieces if things went further than they did.”

  She snorted with laughter. “I nearly smacked the holy crap out of him last night. He started an argument with me in Spanish and . . .”

  “Oh, crap Angie. I gotta run. We have a tour starting in ten minutes, and Mom isn’t here, so it’s all on me.”

  The conversation ended rather quickly after that, leaving Angie quiet and thoughtful in the silent, still sleeping hacienda.

  Feeling better for having touched base with home, she knew her sister would move mountains to find out what Aldo’s agenda was. The sooner she ended this farce and got him on a plane, the better for everybody.

  A soft sound in the silence drew her attention and she turned toward the door in time to see Parker moving swiftly through the dim light. Wearing only sweats that hung dangerously low on his hips, he came straight to her, scooping her and the throw blanket into his arms so he could steal her seat in the big leather chair. Her hushed squeal of shock and surprise was the only sound in the room.

  “What are you doing up,” she asked.

  He kissed her forehead and cuddled her close, pulling the blanket over them.

  “You left your bed,” he murmured quietly.

  Had he been camped outside her room and she hadn’t realized?

  “Oh.” There didn’t seem to be anything else to say.

  Angie curled into his big, warm body and sighed. When she put her cheek on his chest, it felt so natural and so right that she swiftly pressed a kiss on his shoulder, then went right back to snuggling against him.

  “Who were you talking to?” he asked.

  Angie yawned and rubbed her nose on his skin. He smelled like happiness.

  “Angel?” he prompted again.

  ‘Sophie,” she mumbled. “Time difference . . .” And then another yawn.

  Being held so close, the feel of his naked chest under her, the way he was gently stroking her hair . . . mmmmm.

  Letting sleep overtake her felt deliciously sublime . . . so she did.