Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (63 page)

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.

H
E MUST HAVE DOZED OFF
because one minute he’d been enjoying the simple delight of watching Angie sleep and the next he was struggling out of a dream that threatened to push him further than he wanted to go.

Pretty much the last thing this situation called for was an erotic fantasy involving Angie’s legs, his shoulders, and a pillow bunched up and shoved under her ass. Not good. Not good at all. There was only so much control he could cling to before something like that tripped him up. And no way was he going to fuck this up by getting naked with her in Alex’s house.

Inhaling deeply to try and shake off the dream’s aftermath, he ended up groaning when all that did was fill his senses with her alluring scent.

It hit him like a freight train rolling eighty miles an hour. Had he ever been fully present with anyone but her? He didn’t think so and was damn sure he’d never given two seconds of thought before to how anyone smelled.

A soft sigh drifted across his chest and she squirmed slightly in his embrace. It felt so good to hold her close. Something was happening inside him. No. Not the ever-present hard-on he lived with twenty-four seven. This was different. Feeling immersed in her smell. Caring about her feelings. The simple pleasure of holding her close. These were not things that existed in his world before. She was changing him.

The angel sleeping in his arms sighed and quite adorably, rubbed her face on his chest with a quiet moan—settled, then sighed again.

“Mmmm.” Her voice rumbled slightly and sounded husky. “I was dreaming.”

Pushing off him with a murmured, “Oh,” she moved the hair from her face and looked at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “Did I fall asleep?”

Parker smiled and thought,
Ah yes—that moment when you wake up and ask the obvious.

He glanced at the clock on the bookcase. “Just for a few minutes. Was it a good dream?”

When she sat up the blanket slipped off her shoulders giving him his first really good view of what she was wearing and oh, dear god, what was it about silk and lace that made a guy’s dick throb?

He knew precious little about what women wore to bed. Sleeping wasn’t an activity that mattered much when all he’d ever done was hook-up. Sex was sex. There was an established protocol . . . all superficial. Drinks or dinner. Occasionally a show or a social engagement. No strings attached fucking.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Nighties and practical shit?
Yeah, whatever.

Gathering her hair into a tail, she told him with innocent surprise, “You were in it.”

He chuckled. Well, he’d been dreaming about her as well, but he bet his mental picture was a fuckton lustier than anything her sleep-drunk mind had conjured up.

Running his finger over the swell of her breasts above the flimsy silk nightie, he husked, “Did I behave myself?” Not even the dim light of the room could conceal the prickling of her skin beneath his gentle touch.

She actually thought about it!
Hehehe.
Un-fucking-believable. Someone else might have been ready with a practiced line and played a part in an attempt to gain his attention. Angie didn’t have a coy bone in her body. When she was shy or reserved, it was genuine and not some pretense.

At the sound of a muffled chuckle, he dragged his hungry gaze from her flesh and found she was giggling with a hand firmly over her mouth. “Oh, you were very well behaved.”

Ooookay.
Pulling on a curl, he kidded her tenderly, “Are you saying that you weren’t well behaved? I find that hard to believe. Your performance earlier at Pete’s was perfectly well behaved!”

Her whole body moved causing nearly permanent impairment to his manhood when she adorably crossed her arms and huffed dramatically. “That was not the time to be ladylike, sir,” she snarked with a frowny face.

Unf.
Control was becoming an intention rather than a requirement. Supremely conscious of their circumstances and where they were had Parker struggling. Need was a mighty opponent—one he was losing to.

“The fiery spirit you have is a good thing, Angel.”

She stopped frowning. And breathing.

“Your passion excites me.”

They stared deeply into each other’s eyes.

In a small voice, she asked, “Do you want me, Parker?”

“How is this even a question?” He growled and rolled his hips beneath her, driving his steely cock against her bottom for emphasis.

“I think I needed to hear you say it,” she admitted.

Not sure where this was going, he issued a muttered warning, “I absolutely want you, but that doesn’t mean I’m making love to you in this house.”

Better to get that out there and be firm about it. He’d deal with the disappointed fallout if there were any.

The stunning smile that made her face glow rattled his ability to function and the suspicion that he’d somehow just handed her the upper hand made him twitchy.

Wiggling her naughty ass on his lap, she wrenched the blanket from beneath her and tossed it aside with a hearty grunt, “Ugh.”

Without missing a beat, the sexy nymph stood then gracefully sank down, pressing open his thighs as she did, ending on her knees between his open legs. Her hands immediately went to his chest, landing with palms flat on his shoulders.

Grinning wickedly she dug her nails in and firmly clawed her way down to the top of his waistband. “I’m so glad you’re clear on what
you
won’t do. It’s good to have that spelled out.”

Drawing figures on his naked stomach, she smirked at him from time to time with a pout that made him nervous.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Uh-uh. Nope. No way.

“What are up to?” he asked warily. The effect her nails had on his flesh was shocking. It was a miracle he didn’t embarrass himself by coming right then and there.

“That’s odd,” she purred. “You asked the same thing in my dream.”

She’s trying to kill me, right?

“Cut it out. Stop messing around, Angie.” There. He told her!

She snickered and moved her hands up to caress his pecs. “Said that, too.”

“Behave yourself,” he grunted.

Leaning close, she asked him in a husky voice, “Are you sure that’s what you want?” She punctuated the question by rubbing his hardened manhood through the sweats.
Unf.