Accepting His Name (The Sartoris Book 1)
Accepting His Name
The Sartoris Book One
Tressie Lockwood
Contents
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Author
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Accepting His Name
Copyright © August 2016, Tressie Lockwood
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express written permission from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story line are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.
Also by Tressie Lockwood
For Other Clean Works Try:
The Sartoris
Accepting His Name
Raising His Baby
Standalone
Involuntary Daddy
For Hotter Works Try:
The Marquette Family Series
Creed
Damen
Stefan
Duke
www.tressielockwood.com
Chapter 1
Shakarri sat on the side of the bed and played with her wedding band. Her heart stuttered as she thought again about what it meant. Not only was she no longer single, she’d married into a family like none other. She had married a man she wouldn’t have chosen if he was the last man on earth.
Okay, you’re being overly dramatic, Sha. Get a grip.
She pulled in a deep breath and blew it out. Her nerves were still jumping about in panic mode, ready to make her run screaming out of the bedroom. To try to come to terms with her decision, she gazed across the room to Ezio. He stood before the mirror above the dresser, removing the rings from his little fingers and set them on the dresser.
New fear gripped Shakarri. How weird was it that her husband wore jewelry? She wondered about it probably to distract herself from snapping. Some men wore jewelry. It so wasn’t a big deal, but Shakarri bet each of Ezio’s rings cost several thousand dollars, just like her wedding dress. Like everything around her in the mansion that was now her home.
Her finger tangled in the lace and satin over her legs, and she struggled to swallow the knot in her throat. Ezio’s gaze met hers in the mirror. “Remove your dress,” he ordered in simple yet firm tones.
She swallowed. “Your mom wanted us to come back downstairs…” That was another thing. They lived with his family. Or rather, his mom and two brothers all lived in his mansion. Ezio was the head of the family business, and he had first come over to America and settled there. Then he brought the rest of them. Being a close-knit Italian family, it didn’t occur to them to live in separate homes. Ezio could afford to buy each of them a couple mansions of their own and not break a sweat. That wasn’t his way.
He turned from the mirror and strode over to her. The nearer he drew Shakarri was reminded of just how big he was. Ezio was average in height, being about five foot eleven, but he made up for it in build. His smooth bronze skin stretched taut over bulky muscles. Even in a suit—or a tux as he wore right then—he looked like he’d just finished pumping iron.
A large hand snaked out to grasp her chin and raise it. He wasn’t rough by any means, but she didn’t see how she could resist him if she tried. “You’re taking my orders, not my mother’s.”
She gasped. “Orders?”
“Let me rephrase. Our agreement is that you will satisfy me above all else.”
Shakarri’s mouth went dry. Agreement. That word had such a sour connotation. It wasn’t as if she’d sold herself to him like a prostitute. She was his wife. They were officially married, and everything was legal. She had taken on his name, although she would have given anything to keep her maiden name. Ezio Sartori sounded great. Shakarri Sartori not so much.
“Shakarri,” he intoned.
She stood and moved a short distance from him. Reaching up, she undid the buttons at her nape. Ezio stepped over and brushed her fingers aside. He undid the rest for himself, and she shivered feeling his fingertips skim her skin. The dress’s sheer material in the back made it impossible to wear a bra, so when the dress fell, she would be exposed.
This is all a part of the agreement, so get it over with.
At least Ezio wasn’t ugly. His thick wavy hair was coal black, and his enigmatic blue eyes captured her from the first time he approached her in her favorite coffee shop. He wasn’t handsome in the traditional sense, but he had incredible presence.
“You are off the pill,” he said, more of a statement than a question. This was another part of her responsibility as his wife—get pregnant as soon as possible. Ezio had even arranged for a doctor to give her a complete physical to be sure she could have babies. Talk about cold.
This is what you wanted, Sha. It was the solution to your problems, so suck it up.
“I’m not taking anything.” Her dress slid off her shoulders, but she caught it to keep from exposing her breasts and spun to face him. “What’s the rush? You have a little girl.”
Ezio apparently saw no reason to reply to her question. She resisted showing him what she thought of his lack of response.
He hooked a finger in the neckline of her dress, but he didn’t tug. Her heart skittered. “You’re not backing out now. I expect an heir to be on the way within the next three months.”
“Your order coming right up, sir!” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t command my body to get pregnant.”
“I’m not a fool. Of course I know that. I’m simply stating my intent and my expectations.” His hand slid down to her belly, and he splayed his fingers. “I look forward to your belly swelling with my child.”
A zing of interest rose in Shakarri from his touch. Ezio never spoke gently to her. He never tried to charm her, although she was sure he could. Someone had said Italian men were womanizers and that they could entice the staunchest woman into bed. She never got to see if that was true, because Ezio was busy slinging around orders from the beginning. No one could deny he lived a life of privilege. He probably thought her problems were so great he didn’t need sappy words to get her to comply. Since she wore his ring, he was right.
“You want an heir. So what, Catarina is chopped liver?”
He frowned at her use of the old expression. “She will always be cared for and live comfortably, but I want a son.”
Shakarri couldn’t believe his bias against women. She had seen it before they got married, and he’d even admitted to his personal views on the subject right from the start. At the time, she didn’t care as long as she got what she wanted, and that was an out. She was selfish, and she had to face the consequences. Even with him standing there giving her orders, she didn’t regret her decision. And who knew? Maybe she could find a little satisfaction in the bedroom.
Ezio’s hand went back to her chin, and he gripped it with a firm grasp. For a moment, Shakarri pressed her lips together. By nature she was stubborn. That’s why she refused to land on the street when her own dad had scammed her and left her deep in debt. She had her mother to take care of who was in a hospice. When Shakarri met Ezio, she was working two jobs and exhausted beyond measure. A
t first she didn’t believe him when he said he wanted to make her his.
“Stop that,” he said and ran a thumb over her lips. She unwound a bit, and he lowered his lips to hers. The light kiss swept her defenses, and she shook a little. He had kissed her before, and that was the deciding factor. If she was going to exchange her body for a debt paid, she wanted to enjoy it.
Ezio raised his head and looked into her eyes. His gaze dared her to deny she liked his kiss. She smirked and pressed in closer to get another. He held her off. She blinked at him. “I thought you said…”
He spun her away from him and kissed along the side of her neck. One arm wound around her waist while the other moved to the line of her dress again. She held onto it. He grunted in displeasure.
“You’re not planning to deny me?” He added a question mark to the sentence, but Shakarri heard a declaration. “Let it go.”
There was no turning back now. Tonight was their wedding night. She had to give in, to consummate the marriage, but she didn’t know him that well. Their courtship was three weeks long, and then they had gotten married. Just long enough for Ezio to determine she fit his parameters. When Ezio made a decision, he didn’t expect opposition. Everyone must fall in line with his dictates.
“M-maybe a drink?” she suggested, embarrassed. It wasn’t that she was a novice when it came to intimacy, but all the nerves she’d suffered before today came flooding back. Not to mention how heavy handed he was with the orders. In any other situation, his attitude would have pissed her off so much she would have told him about himself.
He hesitated. “I’d be within my rights to put you on the bed and demonstrate what I want from you.”
Her nails cut into her palms, and she bit her tongue. Shut up, Shakarri. He hasn’t paid off the debt yet. That was the crux of it. To be sure Shakarri cooperated, Ezio had taken over the monstrous monthly payments for her debt. He would take care of it every month so long as she kept her part of the bargain. He had insisted she leave her job, so even if she ran now, she would have no more than the clothes on her back. She could almost hear the black women of the world calling her ten kinds of a fool.
Ezio turned her head and covered her mouth again. His hold tightened as he devoured her mouth. Little by little, Shakarri’s defenses fell until she was putty in his hands. He dragged her around to face him and moved his hands to her hips. With a flick of his wrists, he tossed her onto the bed. She squealed in surprise, and her dress slid so low she was in danger of exposure.
“Ezio!”
He stood above her, looking for all the world like an Italian pirate. She waited for him to come after her and make good his threat. Instead, he spun toward the phone at the side of the bed.
“Clara, white wine for me and Mrs. Sartori.” He glanced at Shakarri. “And something to snack on.”
He disconnected the call, and seconds later someone knocked on the door. So little time had passed since Ezio made the request, she wondered if the staff anticipated the order.
“Come,” Ezio barked, and the door opened. Just as if they were in a fancy hotel, Clara rolled a cart into the room and handed each of them a glass.
“For you, signora.” Her heavy accent made it hard for Shakarri to know exactly what she said, but she assumed it wasn’t something she needed to respond to. She smiled and thanked the cook.
Shakarri took a brief sip of her wine and sighed. She drank a little more, and then slid to the end of the bed to go after the bottle. Before she could reach it, Ezio laid a hand over the opening. The significant look he gave her spoke volumes. Too bad. She couldn’t drink herself into a stupor and tell him to bring it on.
Clara arranged a small plate with a healthy slice of cake on it and handed it to Shakarri. She didn’t repeat the process for Ezio because her husband didn’t like sweets. Shakarri thought that was unnatural. “Ci sarà qualcos'altro?, Signore Ezio?”
With a few swallows, Shakarri drained her glass and set it on the nightstand. She picked off a bite of the cake and suppressed a moan at its goodness. Before meeting Ezio, there were days she didn’t get enough to eat, and sweets had been off the menu for months. They were a luxury she couldn’t afford.
“That will be all.” Ezio dismissed Clara with a twitch of two fingers and turned to Shakarri. He finished his wine and set the glass down. Shakarri stood to her feet and sucked in a deep breath. She let her dress flutter to the floor.
Chapter 2
Shakarri checked the price tag on the blouse her friend thought was cute and cringed. “Good lord, I don’t know why you have me in here, Nay. These clothes are outrageous.”
Her friend laughed. “You can afford it now, remember? You’re rich.”
“Correction. Ezio is rich. I’m just his wife.”
Nay rolled her eyes. “As such you get to legally put your hands in his pockets. He won’t feel it.”
Shakarri pursed her lips and studied her friend. Nay had cut her hair again. She was always hacking it off, something like every other week. This time it was less than an inch long, and she had relaxed what little was left and dyed it a shocking red color. Shakarri never knew what to expect from Nay. That’s why she loved her.
“I thought you were against my marriage.”
Nay waved a hand and moved on to the next rack of blouses. “I am, but since you went and did it anyway, you might as well get some use out of him. By the way, how was the wedding night?”
Nay made the question casual, but Shakarri caught the eager glance she flicked at her before she turned away. The memory of the intimate night with her husband started odd feelings in the pit of Shakarri’s stomach. She wasn’t sure what to think of them, whether positive or negative.
“It was all right.”
Nay put a hand on her hip. “Don’t tell me he didn’t satisfy you. Those cut muscles are all you get?”
Shakarri laughed to cover a bit of irritation. She heard a tinge of hopefulness in Nay’s voice. Sometimes Nay seemed jealous of her meeting Ezio. Shakarri had seen it in her friend before, but she was human. Nay had always stuck by her and even offered help when Shakarri’s dad did his dirt. Pride had kept Shakarri struggling to handle things on her own until she met Ezio. “I didn’t say he didn’t satisfy me.”
“You said ‘all right’ which sounds like his—”
“Don’t go there. I’m not discussing that with you, girl.”
Nay sucked her teeth. “You’re cruel. Well since you haven’t filed for divorce, I guess it wasn’t all bad. Maybe with time it will get better.”
Shakarri decided not to correct her. The truth was her night with Ezio was incredible. He was an excellent lover, and he’d done things to her body she never knew was possible. For a few hours, she forgot why she married him and all the legalities and contracts that were between them and just felt like the most treasured woman.
Granted, he’d been authoritative even in bed, giving her orders to obey him and guiding her on how to please him and how to maximize her own pleasure. That part she didn’t mind a bit. A dominant man in the bedroom was hot. The experience was so unbelievable Shakarri wanted to keep it all to herself and think about it again and again. She’d done so every day since their wedding night because Ezio wasn’t around. He flew to New York for an emergency meeting and was gone that next morning before she woke up. This was how her married life had begun.
“Okay,” Nay said, holding a blouse against her slim figure, “I’ll get this or this. Which one do you like better?”
Shakarri raised an eyebrow at her. “That top is going to cost half your salary.”
“What are you talking about? I believe I said it’s my birthday next week, and you said you were going to treat me.”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
Nay pouted and blinked her eyes as if she tried not to cry. Shakarri laughed. Her friend wiggled around, whipping one blouse in front of her and then the other.
“See how good it will look on me?”
“You were
never one with a low self-esteem.”
Shakarri’s phone dinged, and she fished it out of her purse. A text flashed across the screen from Ezio. “My plane lands at four. I should be home by five-thirty. Wear the DG floral dress.”
She snorted. Ezio had filled up an entire walk-in closet with clothes for her. She had no idea which dress he was talking about, and he was not picking out her clothing. After shooting a text back to him, she dumped her phone inside her purse. Nay was still performing.
“Didn’t he give you a credit card or something, like with no limit?”
Shakarri shrugged. “He gave me a few, but I’m not sure what the limits are. I’m not spending his money all willy-nilly.”
“Then what’s the point of marrying him? Dang, Sha, he won’t let you work. At least take him for all he’s got.”
“He didn’t forbid me to work! I can get a job if I want to.” She lied in so many words. Another one of their agreements was that she’d never work full time. She thought it was so she could raise their baby when it came, but apparently Ezio had no problem with a nanny taking care of the baby. Shakarri wasn’t having it, so she hadn’t fought him on that subject. “Fine, you can buy one blouse.”
Nay squealed and jumped up and down. “What about you?”
“I won’t get through all those new clothes Ezio bought me this century.”
“That’s what you think. I heard rich people don’t sit home eating bon bons. In actuality, they’re always attending functions, and you wouldn’t be caught dead in the same outfit you wore three months ago.”
“You’re exaggerating, and where did you even hear that?”
Her friend widened her eyes, tilted her head, and shrugged in that expressive way she used without words. Shakarri always thought it was funny.