Page 2 of Accepting His Name (The Sartoris 1)

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.

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