Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) by Suzanne Halliday

with a hostile frown.
    “Dinner is in ten minutes. Understand, shithead? Ten fucking minutes and then I take matters into my own hands.”
    Parker practically sprinted down the hallway in pursuit of Angelina. Ten minutes to repair years of damage? Shit.
    He found her instantly because he knew exactly where to look. Ever since she was a little kid, whenever she came to the Villa, she eventually found her way to her very own hidey-hole. A big, wooden double-seater swing set in a tiled alcove draped with climbing vines and blooms. It was her favorite place to disappear and had been since she was a kid so she wasn’t all that hard to find.
    His angel saw him approaching. He could tell by the way she appeared to draw inward—become smaller. The sight made him feel like a dick.
    Leaning casually against the end of the swing, Parker was surprised at how calm his voice sounded when, in fact, he was freaking the fuck out inside. “Want to start over?” he asked quietly.
    Oh, my god. Angelina. Right there. An arm’s length away. And she was even more striking than the last time he’d seen her in the flesh. The years had been good to her. Though the young, gangly girl with the braces and the impish grin was long gone, the beautiful woman he fell so desperately in love with was achingly present.
    Her hair was still long, and the features on her face, so familiar and haunting. He’d know her anywhere–especially since she’d been frequenting his dreams for longer than he cared to admit.
    For a tantalizingly brief second, he considered dropping to his knees and prostrating himself as he begged for forgiveness. Desperate for some form of penance to make up for his part in destroying their friendship.
    And then she lifted her eyes as an unsteady and visibly trembling hand tucked the hair behind her ear. When he felt her sapphire gaze on his face, he prayed to all that was holy that whatever came next wasn’t the beginning of the end of his world.
    But she didn’t say anything. Silence hung all around them. Parker’s hands clenched tightly at his sides when the sparkle of tears rimmed the eyes staring back at him. The emotion in the air was thick and heavy.
    “I take it they didn’t tell you that I was coming for dinner.” It wasn’t a question. Her reaction to his unexpected presence was tearing him up inside. Did guys cry? Nobody he knew ever admitted to crying, but right then, he was sure that was where he was headed.
    Her slight head shake said it all. Hadn’t been expecting to see him and wasn’t happy about it. Fan-fucking-tastic.
    Knowing that Alex was counting back from a thousand, and likely to come thundering in at any second, rattled Parker’s cage. He needed to pull this shit show back from the ledge and do it quickly. And after that, he should probably figure out what the hell he could do to repair his relationship with Angie.
    But right here, right now, he had to smooth things in a hurry. Maybe a touch of mockingly sarcastic humor would help. Sort of darkly acknowledge the fucked-up-ness of the situation and pray it acted as a pressure release. Buy a little time. The sort of thing he did in front of a judge all the damn time.
    “So . . . I should take from your silence that you’re still mad at me?”
    Now, that wasn’t so bad, he thought. A straightforward admission that he’d been a dick. She should be happy with that, right? At least as a start, anyway.
    His first inkling that he was way off base came when she shot to her feet and rushed toward him. In the muted light, she looked like an angry wraith, her dark hair flying, eyes glittering with something he couldn’t name. Holy shit.
    Unease gathered at the base of his neck. The cold, heavy squeeze of anxiety knowing he’d miscalculated made it difficult to breathe. She looked like she meant to do him bodily harm.
    “Mad at you?” Angie hissed as she bore down on him. “ MAD at you?” she yelled with rising emotion.
    “Guessing . . . that’s a