Raising His Baby
The Sartoris Book Two
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
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
About the Author
Also by Tressie Lockwood
Raising His Baby
Copyright © September 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
Romy drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of his Porsche 911 Carrera as he waited at the light. Ever since he made the decision to propose to his latest lover, his stomach didn’t want to settle down. He couldn’t concentrate on work, which meant he made mistakes that led his brother Ezio lighting into him. Worst of all, he wasn’t even sure this was the right move.
Not that he loved her. Romy refused to fall for any woman after the one that broke his heart a few years ago. They were all deceivers, manipulative and out to satisfy only themselves. He knew some women weren’t nearly as bad as others. Yet, he couldn’t see where he should let himself love ever again. Heck, even Ezio’s wife married him for money.
Lately, it looked like his younger brother and his wife were in love, but Romy figured Shakarri just felt it more convenient for her own purposes to show affection for Ezio. He wasn’t worried about Ezio because if any of the Sartoris was immune to being bested by a woman it was Ezio.
Romy on the other hand had always been awkward around women. He could keep a cool head when it came to business, and he almost never lost his temper unlike Ezio. When the situation called for romance, a sense of shyness surfaced that he despised in himself. The only way he had learned to deal with it so far was when he was in Cason’s presence. His youngest brother was a born charmer, and a bit of Cason rubbed off on Romy when he got around Cason. He could tease and flirt with a woman and hide who he truly was.
Knowing he didn’t desire an endless life of seducing women just to satisfy his baser needs, Romy had come to the conclusion that the only way out of it was to propose to someone. He considered taking the exact route Ezio had done, by making the woman a proposition, but that seemed too cold for him. He didn’t think he could remain married to a woman who he didn’t at least like. That led him to his current situation.
Today, he planned to propose to his lover. He liked her. She was fun and open to having a family someday. She wasn’t too materialistic, although she enjoyed it when he gave her gifts. All women did. Romy had some reservations, but he put them down to distrust because of past experiences. Everything would be fine so long as he didn’t make her promises and spout off foolish declarations of love. Just the thought of it gave him a sour taste in his mouth.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he coached himself and drove on when the light changed. Just a few more minutes and he would arrive at his lover’s apartment. He grinned. “Maybe I could learn to have…affection…for her.”
He chuckled. Affection sounded ridiculous. Ah well, that was all he had to give, and it shouldn’t matter. She would enjoy the prospect of a secure future. Romy might not own the bulk of Ezio’s businesses, but he did hold a healthy share of stock in them, which put him into wealthy territory in his own right. Outside of working for his brother, he had other investments, and if he chose to pursue them more aggressively, he might meet or exceed Ezio’s status. Money had never meant much. Nor was he as driven as Ezio. He liked a peaceful life, and working as one of Ezio’s executives suited him fine.
Romy left his car in the lot and jogged up to the entrance. He paused before opening the door and looked to his left. Nervousness turned to dread in his stomach when he spotted the yellow McLaren P1 parked a few spots down from his vehicle. A blind man couldn’t miss the flashy ride that Cason loved to tool around Southern California.
Why would he be there? As far as Romy knew, Cason wasn’t seeing anyone that lived in this area. In fact, Romy told Cason just a couple days ago about his plan. Cason, who never took anything or anyone seriously had laughed and walked away. His attitude annoyed Romy at the time, but he was used to Cason’s ways. His youngest brother never disrespected him but always did exactly what he wanted, no matter what anyone else’s opinion was.
“Can’t be him,” Romy muttered as he entered the building. Yet, he couldn’t see many others, especially over this side of town, being able to afford a McLaren. A testament to Romy not being ready to face the truth, he avoided checking out the front plate, which should read Cason.
When he reached the second floor, his lover’s apartment door stood slightly ajar. Romy pushed it a tad bit wider and prepared to call out. The words stuck in his throat. Strewn across the floor were pieces of clothing—a pair of shorts, women’s panties, a man’s shirt, and others all leading toward the hallway.
Common sense told him to turn around and get out of there. He kept walking farther into the apartment, and when he stood outside the bedroom door, the high-pitched giggle and the teasing deep voiced response washed away the last of his denial. He was a fool.
He kicked the door, and it banged against the wall. The sound of plaster crumbling made no difference to him. All his attention laid on the couple tangled in the bedsheets.
“Cason,” he croaked.
The blond squeaked in alarm. “Romy, it’s not what you think.” She clutched the sheet to hide her nakedness.
He ground his teeth. “I don’t know how I could misunderstand my brother sleeping with my lover.”
Cason watched him in silence for a minute as if judging Romy’s reaction. Of course, he wouldn’t cower or make excuses. His younger brother leaned back against the headboard, chest bare and one arm tucked behind his head.
“Nothing happened yet,” Cason said.
“I told you—” Romy began.
“This is awkward. Never thought you’d catch us, fratello.”
Romy cringed at Cason’s flippant use of “brother” in their native tongue. The storm of anger rising in him must have been apparent because his former lover scooted closer to Cason’s side, looking nervous.
Cason’s gaze flitted from Romy to her and back again. “No worries. She’s not any more important than the next one, right? Easily replaced.”
She whimpered and pouted, slapping Cason’s chest. “How could you say that, Cason? I thought I was special.”
Romy blinked at her. He’d never seen her this way. She seemed to think
since Romy didn’t respond to her she might have a better chance with his brother. He was dead wrong in thinking she wasn’t as bad as some women. It proved they were either all corrupt, or he had zero sense for choosing a good one.
“Lei non merita il nostro nome,” Cason said in a deadpan tone.
Romy clenched his right hand into a fist, but he kept it at his side. Although he hated admitting it, Cason was right. She didn’t deserve their name.
“What did you just say to him, Cason?”
His brother ignored her, keeping his focus on Romy.
Romy sighed and unclenched his fist. He spun on his heel and marched for the door. The creak of springs behind him and his ex-lover’s whine of protest told him Cason followed. At the door, Cason grabbed his arm, standing there with a sheet around his waist.
“Fratello, we’re okay?”
Romy shook his hand off. “Ma’ va te ne a fanculo.”
Cason whistled. “Ouch. I’ve never heard you talk like that. I really screwed up.”
“You could have said you didn’t think she was right to be my wife. You didn’t have to prove it.”
Cason pounded his shoulder. Romy had the feeling he was getting a little payback for Romy cursing at him. “I’ll always have your back, fratello. I have to do things my way, or it wouldn’t be me.”
Romy wrenched the door open and stormed out. If he stayed another minute he would get into a fistfight, and that wasn’t his way. He dropped behind the wheel of his car, turned the engine over, and sped out of the parking lot. All he could think to do now was to throw himself into work and forget this humiliation—and the fact that he was foolish enough to think he could take a wife without being burned.
Chapter 2
Sonya hopped on one foot a couple times and tried to fix the strap on her shoe before she lost balance. Her ankle turned and banged on the ground. Sharp pain shot up her leg, and she groaned. When she righted herself and checked the damage, she found a hole in her pantyhose and blood staining the material.
“Ugh, that’s what I get for trying to wear heels!”
She had wanted to look good for her first day of temping, hoping to secure the position with a permanent job as soon as possible. Every chance she got she had gone into the agency and practiced on the computer. She had upped her skill level and increased her typing speed by leaps and bounds. Harassing the staff every day with phone calls had borne fruit at last, and this was her opportunity. In fact, it was her who had found out about the position at Sartori Incorporated and connected her agency with the company. They couldn’t help but let her go for the temporary secretary position when they won the bid. She had no intention of blowing this chance.
She would kill two birds with one stone. First, she would impress the heck out of the Sartori management and get a permanent job. That way she could afford to take care of herself and Arron. More importantly though she could see what kind of man Romy Sartori was and insinuate herself into his good graces so she could decide whether to spring her news onto him. Nothing could have worked out better if she had waved a magic wand.
“Actually it could if he turns out to be a nice guy and believes my story.”
She hobbled to the counter, got her security badge, and continued up to the floor where she was to meet the HR woman who would introduce her to Romy.
“Sonya Davis?” the slender blonde asked, extending her hand.
“Yes, I’m Sonya. Thanks so much for the opportunity. I—”
“Never mind the gushing,” the woman interrupted. “You have one shot. We’ve gone through a handful of assistants already. Mr. Sartori isn’t in the best of moods this week, so you have to be extra patient. More importantly you need to know what you’re doing. You have plenty of experience working in a fast-paced corporate environment, correct?”
Sonya started to tell the truth, but the woman cut her off.
“Of course you do. That’s what we asked for. Now listen, Mr. Sartori will be in here shortly. He likes his coffee as hot as possible, but he wants it with extra cream and sugar. Your office is right down here and…”
She went on and on with so many details Sonya’s head spun. She had thought she would be able to wing it, but it seemed like looking after an executive of his level meant babysitting the man and anticipating his every possible need. Were the Sartoris that anal? Her stomach knotted with thoughts of the many ways she might screw up. Then she recalled Arron and decided she had to give it her all.
“Are there any tips or tricks you might suggest?” Sonya asked.
The woman paused and stared. Her expression said she didn’t believe Sonya would last a day let alone the week. “What you need to know about Romy Sartori is he doesn’t like deception. Don’t try to lie your way out of not giving him one hundred percent. It will go worse for you. If his secretary didn’t suddenly take maternity leave a month early, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
Sonya winced. In other words, her sorry behind wouldn’t have been anyone’s choice. His usual secretary would still be kid gloving him, and Sonya would be at home wondering how much farther she could stretch a dollar.
“Good to know,” she muttered and swallowed her irritation. This wasn’t the time to think about her pride.
Sonya sat at the desk assigned to her with the packet of information regarding her new job. Coffee for Romy started the checklist.
Jeez, how serious is he about coffee?
She checked the time and noted he should be there in twenty minutes. After she read through all the notes his secretary left, she checked the door to his office thinking she could glean something about the man maybe from personal pictures and art choices. Her plan was foiled by the fact that the door was locked. How could she check for faxes sent straight to him if the machine was in his office? Maybe the secretary had keys.
Searching the desk, she found a ring with a million keys on it. As soon as she brought them out, they slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. When she bent to grab them, her injured ankle wobbled and by some miraculous clumsy move, she kicked the keys under the desk.
“For real?” She grumbled and dropped to her knees. The run in her pantyhose snaked up her calf, creeping her out.
Keep it together, Sonya. You’re fine. If you stay behind this desk, no one will notice anyway.
“Where’s the girl that’s supposed to be here today?” a man barked.
Sonya jumped and hit her head on the desk. She winced and poked her head out. “Oh, good morning. Sorry, that’s me. I was picking something…”
Her voice wandered off when she looked into the Adonis’ eyes. Mamma Mia! No one told her Romy would be so hot. She had seen several pictures of him, but none did him justice. Romy Sartori, Italian businessman, had to be a little over six feet tall. His big shoulders and chest filled out the suit he wore to a T, and Sonya imagined he had muscles to make a woman reach out to touch even without permission.
Dark hair and blue eyes that were stormy with anger right about then made her want to pant, but she resisted. Instead, she climbed to her feet and offered him a bright smile. “I’m Sonya Davis. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Sartori. Is there anything—”
He snapped his fingers and held out his hand in a position as if to receive a cup. “Coffee.”
Rude much?
“Um, I have to make it really quick. My information says you don’t usually come in until—”
“I’m not in the mood for excuses! Get me my coffee now!” He stormed over to his office, unlocked the door, and slammed it behind him as he entered the room.
Her teeth clicked together, and irritation rolled up her spine. “Of course. Right away.”
He was already gone. She wouldn’t let his attitude get to her. Apparently, he’d been having a bad week. Her research indicated that of the three Sartori brothers, Romy was the nicest. This callousness coming from him might mean he was under a lot of stress, and it would soon end. On the other hand, the way he acted might be relative. Maybe they were all ev
il incarnate and Romy was a little less so. She had to make sure before she came clean with him.
She threw together a cup of coffee as quickly as she could and loaded the tray she carried it on with little buckets of creamer and packets of sugar. Just in case, she added a few sugar substitute choices and ran on her toes as fast as she dared back to Romy’s office.
“Come,” he growled at her knock.
“Your coffee, sir.”
He didn’t look up but reached for the cup. Sonya bit back a sigh and guided the cup into his hand. A slight grimace touched the handsome face, but he continued to focus on the sheets of paper before him.
“Wait,” she began.
He choked and slammed the coffee on the desk. Coffee spilled all over his hand, and a few drops splattered the sheets of paper.
“Oh my goodness, are you okay?” She ran to his side and whipped a napkin off the tray to mop his reddening skin. “That must hurt. I know just the thing that will—”
He smacked her hand away. “It’s fine. In fact it would have hurt had it been hot enough! Weren’t you told I like my coffee hot?”
She blinked at him. The stuff was as hot as the coffee maker created it to be.
“And there’s no creamer or sugar in it!”
She pointed to the selection on the tray. “It’s right here. I was about to give it to you, but you sipped the coffee before I could tell you.”
“You’re supposed to add it before you bring the cup.”
She rubbed a moist palm down her thigh, blowing out a cool breath. “I’m sorry. That information isn’t in my notes. I understand your secretary left on short notice, so she might have overlooked a few details.”
Romy’s cold stare cut through her. She flew into action to clean up the mess and set the cup on the tray. She dabbed at the spots on the paper, but they were beyond repair.
Raising His Baby (The Sartoris Book 2) Page 1