She sobbed. “My husband will kill you.”
“He’s not here, is he?” A cold and lust-filled laugh.
She fainted.
“Move!” a man commanded.
The man’s voice crackled with barely-contained rage. Something or someone bumped the bed. Shakarri whimpered. Big hands cradled her and lifted her against a hard chest. His scent was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Her head still hurt, and she was so dizzy. What happened? Where was she? Most important, who held her?
She recalled the thief and cried out. Right away, a soothing voice spoke into her ear.
“Facile, il mio amore,” he whispered. “No one is going to hurt you.”
Ezio! He’d found her. He was probably so mad at her. What would he do? She tried to open her eyes and managed to slit them. The room was too bright, and it made her feel worse.
“She’s burning up,” Ezio said. “I have to get her to a hospital. Dean, get her things and her car. She’ll ride with me and Lucca.”
“Sir.” An authoritative man spoke. “We’ll need a statement from your wife.”
Ezio growled his response. “You don’t need anything right now except to put that piece of trash under the jail.”
“Sir, you assaulted him. It’s possible he’ll press charges. Now, an officer will follow—”
“You apparently don’t know who you’re speaking to,” Ezio interrupted. “Trust me when I tell you he will regret ever laying a hand on my wife. If one of your men hadn’t pulled me off him— Never mind that. I don’t want to hear about that low life’s rights. I’m taking my wife to the hospital. Get out of my way!”
Feet shuffled, and Shakarri found herself ensconced on Ezio’s lap, cradled in his arms as they rode to the hospital. She wanted so much to ask him about how he found her, what happened, and everything else, but she couldn’t get her thoughts together. Her mind kept focusing in on the way it felt to lay on his chest, to be held in his arms, to hear the anger directed at the thief and the police on her behalf.
The shaking started again, and she was sick all over Ezio’s suit. He didn’t even flinch. His hold never loosened. Someone handed him a towel, and he cleaned the two of them up the best he could. When they arrived at the hospital, Ezio carried her inside and with a few quick comments had her in a bed with a doctor looking her over. No one stood in the way of Ezio Sartori.
Something pricked her arm, and she cried out. Ezio barked, “Be careful with her!”
“Sir, if you could wait outside,” the nurse said. “We’re doing all we can. Your attitude—”
“Isn’t going to change until I know my wife is safe. Do your job!”
The woman huffed, but the doctor spoke up. “Leave him alone, Betty. I understand how he feels. Mr. Sartori, it looks like she’s just caught a chill, but I’ll run tests to make sure. We’re giving her something now to lower the fever and hopefully help with the shaking.”
“Good.”
She could almost make him out as he stood beside the bed, arms folded, staring at her.
“I’m here, amore. Rest.”
Shakarri drifted off.
The first thing Shakarri noticed when she opened her eyes was that her head had stopped hurting. Her ears were still a bit clogged, but her stomach had settled. She tested raising the bed with the remote at her side and discovered someone had cleaned her up and changed her into a hospital gown. So not cute, but at least she didn’t smell anymore.
She gazed around the empty room. A part of her was disappointed not to find Ezio asleep in a chair with his head lying on the bed and his hand clutching hers. That was sheer fantasy and not her husband. She wondered if the gentleness she remembered him displaying toward her was a figment of a fevered mind.
The door opened, and Ezio strode in. He’d changed too. He wore a T-shirt and jeans, and even from the distance between them, she could pick up the scent of a fresh shower. Ezio had probably snapped his fingers and demanded someone supply hot water stat.
“You’re awake,” he said.
Nope. No warmth there.
She looked away. “Yes. I’m feeling better. I got a little wet from the storm. I can’t even imagine how I could have caught a cold so fast.”
“Your resistance was low.” He approached the bed, but he didn’t touch her. “We’ll be heading home in an hour or so, but first you’ll need to give the police your statement.”
That wasn’t her imagination either—that man. She didn’t realize her hands shook until Ezio laid one of his big ones over hers.
“I…” she began and didn’t know what to say.
“How much do you remember, Shakarri?”
She shook her head. Her throat closed.
“We were onto him pretty quickly. I knew your location and was on the way. I called the local police to look in on you, and they found him—” Ezio choked, and his eyes turned stormy with anger. “I made him sorry for touching your hair. That’s all he did from what they could tell because you were wrapped so tight in the sheets. But that was far more than enough!”
Shakarri sighed in relief. “Did you track him from my phone? I had it turned off, but he turned it on probably to gauge how much money he would make when he sold it.”
Ezio didn’t answer.
She looked at him. “Ezio?”
He sat down in the chair beside the bed. “You have a recovery system on your car.”
“Crap. I never thought of that.” She felt stupid. All the time she thought she was escaping without a trace, her husband knew exactly where she was. One phone call, and he would have an address. Well, it turned out to be a good thing because he sent the police to the motel room and followed soon after. “I might not have been in trouble. You had the police burst into the room, invading my privacy.”
He didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “Would you have preferred to be assaulted?”
“You know what I mean.”
He stood and moved away from the bed. “Why did you leave, Shakarri?”
She said nothing.
“This conversation won’t end until you talk to me. We can have it here or after we get back to the mansion.”
She glared at him. “You’re telling me you’re going to force me back to the mansion? I don’t have a choice?”
“You have plenty of choices, but right now you’re my wife. And you will live at the mansion where I can protect you.”
“That doesn’t sound like a choice to me!”
“You’re seeing it wrong.”
She curled her fingers into her palms because they itched to smack his face.
“While we’re on the subject you can also tell me why you pretended you were open to having my baby and then took birth control pills.”
Shakarri stared out the window. “You weren’t all that interested in the whys at home when you threw a tantrum and stormed out. All you cared about was that you weren’t getting your way.”
He marched back to the side of the bed and leaned over it, bringing his face close to hers. She shrank against the pillows, trying to keep enough space between them. His jaw worked, and a vein in his forehead popped out. One thing she’d noticed about Italians was that they were a fiery bunch. People said black women were angry. They must have missed the hot blood of Italian men.
“Let’s get something straight,” he growled. “I married you for your body.” His hand raked her form and rested on her hip. When his thumb pressed lightly into her pelvis, a shock of desire flowed straight to her core. “This—all of this—is mine, and I intend to get what I paid for.”
She gasped, and her hand shot out before she could think about the consequences. The crack echoed around the room, and red stained his cheek. His eyes slitted.
“That’s the second time you’ve hit me.”
Her throat dried. She shrank further into the pillows, and then he stilled. He studied her face for a few silent moments and straightened.
“Is that why you ran, Shakarri?” He cast his voice l
ow and deep. She almost missed the words. “Did you think I would hit you?”
Don’t admit anything.
“You were pretty ticked off.”
“Have I ever raised my hand to you?” He still spoke quietly, and she began to think she’d insulted him by not denying the thought had run through her mind.
“No, but—”
“You don’t have a history of abuse,” he said, “so there’s no excuse to jump to that conclusion.”
“You would know.”
“So you’re protesting against the thorough research I did before we married?”
She didn’t answer.
“Shakarri.”
“Okay, look, I assumed you’d want a divorce, and I was getting out before you could throw me out without a nickel to my name. I’ve always taken care of myself, and I’m haven’t forgotten how to do it since I took on your name.”
“We won’t be getting a divorce. Period.”
“Not until you’ve gotten what you want. Is that it? I get pregnant and give you an heir. Then I’m out?”
“Tell me why you think that’s the case.”
She wouldn’t betray Paxe. “I…heard you forced Cat’s—Catarina’s—mom to give her to you.”
“Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
He seemed to think about it, and frowned. “Cason talks too much. My arrangements with my ex have nothing to do with you and I, Shakarri.”
“It does when it comes to our baby, and you haven’t denied what I’ve said once.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have a reason to deny it. I’ve been honest with you from the beginning.” That was a dig against her. “It’s true. I pushed for full custody of Catarina.”
Shakarri’s jaw dropped. There was nothing she could say. She’d heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.”
“Get out.” She covered her eyes so he couldn’t see the tears. “Get out of here! I’m getting a headache.”
He strode toward the door. “I’m arranging for you to be released. I’ll get a nurse to care for you until you’re on your feet again.”
“It’s a cold. I don’t need a nurse!”
“You’ll stay in the house at all times unless Dean escorts you.”
“You think I will!” She scrambled to the end of the bed and stood, wrapping the gown about her. “I’m getting dressed, and I’ll do whatever I choose to do. You’re not going to dictate my life.”
She took a few steps toward the closet where she assumed someone had stored a change of clothing for her. Ezio blocked her path.
“Get out of the way, Ezio.”
He crowded her, and she stumbled backward. Her head spun, and she grabbed hold of his shirt to hang on. His arm came around her, and he supported her weight for a few moments.
Rather than argue with her, he released her and walked to the closet and brought out the clothes. Shakarri smacked his hands when he tried to dress her. She did it on her own, burning with annoyance that he watched her every movement.
“I’m going on my own,” she announced.
“You’re not.”
She put a hand on her hip. “I’m not some bony behind white woman you can bully.”
“No one knows that better than I do. However, you will not go off alone anymore. I told you. As long as you’re my wife, I will protect you! You can fight me all you want, but you will lose.”
“You’re so infuriating!”
He snatched her chin up and took her by surprise when he kissed her. “And you’re bellissimo.”
She blushed.
They had been shouting at each other up until then, but now he lowered his voice. Shakarri imagined someone was on the way to tell them to cut the noise or leave.
“You’re determined to think the worst of me.”
She pulled her chin away from his grasp but didn’t try to get out of his embrace. Her balance was still off. “And you’ve done nothing but confirm it.”
He sighed. “I told you I pressed to get full custody of Catarina, but you didn’t ask why.”
She blinked. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to speak. She pressed her lips together and refused to ask. Amusement brightened his beautiful eyes. She focused away from them to keep her head on straight.
“Catarina’s mom has been drinking too much. There have been several violent incidents.”
“Oh no, not with Catarina?”
“No.” His jaw tensed. “But the situation was escalating to that point. I took her and gave her mother a choice.”
“You and your choices. Something tells me it wasn’t much of a choice for her.”
He shrugged. “She could check herself into a program and see Catarina regularly when she gets out.”
“Or not at all?”
“I won’t apologize for using my resources to get what I want when I feel it’s right. I’m a harsh man, Shakarri. I told you that before we were married. I laid it all out before you. However, I’m fair. Tell me, do you think it’s fine to leave my daughter in a dangerous situation?”
“Of course not.”
He put her away from him and spread his hand over her belly. “And did you deny me the chance to get you pregnant because of what you heard?”
She bit her lip. “Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
She couldn’t tell him she feared him leaving her. It was ridiculous. She’d gone into this to get her debt paid, and now she loved him. There was no way she would tell him that. Not in this lifetime. He had enough power over her in the form of finances. He didn’t need emotional influence as well.
“Does it matter? I’ve broken our agreement, so if you’re going to file for divorce—”
“You’re not getting away from me that easily.”
She looked up at him, and he drew her closer. His lips skimmed hers, teasing her and igniting her senses. When he moved to her cheek and then down to her throat, she trembled.
“I’m not going to make it so simple for you divorce me. Notice I said you. I will fight you if you try, and bring you home if you leave.
“But…”
He found her lips again with one hand gently guiding her chin up so she couldn’t escape his kiss. Shakarri tried so hard not to like it, but she was swept away with the sheer magnitude of the man.
Leaving them both panting, he raised his head. “I’ll seduce you and convince you to have my baby.”
“That’s not fair.”
“In this instance, I refuse to be fair.”
“You’ll do whatever it takes to get your way?”
“I will.”
And what if I’m not happy?
She couldn’t say it out loud. Truthfully, she wasn’t unhappy with him. There were misunderstandings and fears and a host of other emotions, but disappointment in Ezio wasn’t among them. She still felt like he was far out of her league. With a few moves, Ezio overthrew her plans. Even when she thought she was being clever, he knew better. She wondered if she should regroup and try again later, or give in to her fate.
“I will get you released from here so you can come home and rest.”
“I take it you’re not angry about me trying to leave or about me taking birth control?” She kept her gaze on his shirtfront as she questioned him.
“I am, but what you suffered last night takes precedence. We’ll talk after you’re well.”
What in the world did that mean? “Sounds like a promise,” she muttered.
“It is.”
Chapter 11
Another party. Shakarri held a glass of wine, but she didn’t drink from it. She held it to keep up appearances and because occasionally, when someone didn’t distract him, Ezio watched her. Every time she caught him, she noticed this look in his eyes. He’d come to himself and look away, but she knew him now. It was too late.
In the four months since he had brought her back home after her attempt to run away, she hadn’t tried again, but neither had Ezio kept his threat to talk to
her about what she’d done. He maintained his distance unless they were making love. He worked and went out of town often. She basically spent his money and looked for activities to occupy herself. Yet, something had changed between them.
She held up the glass, and a server appeared at her side with an empty tray. Once she’d placed her glass there, she wandered toward a position that would put her directly in her husband’s line of sight.
For a minute, Shakarri hesitated. This wasn’t their personal party, so she couldn’t influence the guest list. Someone had invited Ms. Thing, and she had showed up in style—“style” being a loosely used term. Madison’s dress might as well be a piece of plastic wrap. It was that shiny and almost as transparent. Anyone could see she wasn’t wearing a bra. Not that she needed one.
Madison explained something to Ezio with excited gestures that made her boobs bounce, and the deep cut in the front of her dress almost revealed all. Every man standing in her group seemed to be mesmerized. To Ezio’s credit, he never appeared to look. Yet, with her in his face, he couldn’t possibly miss the performance.
She’s a business-owner? Looks more like a slut. Probably born into it.
Shakarri thought of her own figure. She wasn’t small, but she tried to keep the weight gain under control. Lately, she had gained about seven pounds, but she didn’t worry about it. Moving into position, she knew she looked good tonight. As tiny as Ms. Thing was, she didn’t have much of a butt. Shakarri’s was big and round, and she already knew Ezio liked it.
She stopped moving and clasped her purse in front of her with both hands. A peek around the room brought three different men into focus. She’d spotted them earlier, checking her out when she walked in on Ezio’s arm. When her husband introduced them, they were all over her until Ezio cut them all to ribbons with just a look. Shakarri didn’t remember their names. They weren’t important in themselves.
“Do you know why he married her?” someone nearby said, a little too loudly.
“Can’t imagine. She didn’t have anything to offer from what I heard.”
“You’re not saying it’s love?”
“Don’t be stupid! She’s black.”
Accepting His Name Page 9
