Resistance (Replica)

by Black, Jenna

  Nate had asked his father countless times over the years about the disintegration of the marriage. His father had never answered, and Nate didn’t expect things to be different even now. But for once, his father surprised him.

  “I was unfaithful to her, and she was incapable of forgiving me for it.”

  The very personal admission was so surprising, Nate didn’t know what to say. He certainly had no interest in even thinking about his parents having a sex life, with each other or with anyone else. Theirs had, of course, been a marriage of state, and any happiness they may have experienced in the union was purely coincidental. Nate had the vague sense that they had loved each other once, but his only concrete memories were from the time after the strain entered their marriage, when the most positive word he could use to describe their feelings toward one another was indifferent.

  If his mother really had fled to the retreat for the rest of her life over an infidelity, that spoke to a much deeper relationship between his parents than Nate had ever imagined.

  The Chairman cleared his throat. “Your mother made it clear in her will that she did not want a full state funeral. Even in death, she wished to remain out of the public eye. The funeral will be held on Monday, at the retreat. Her wishes were that only friends and family attend, but I cannot afford to offend my top Executives during these difficult times. I’ll keep the guest list as small as possible, and of course the press will not be allowed on the grounds of the retreat. That is the best I can do to honor her wishes.”

  Nate nodded, his feelings a jumbled mess. His father’s explanation that his mother had been “unbalanced” did nothing to lessen Nate’s hurt and anger over the fact that she hadn’t tried to see him, or even talk to him on the phone, before she died. He hadn’t realized until now that a part of him had always held out hope that she would eventually end her self-imposed exile. That she would leave the retreat and beg Nate’s forgiveness for having left him motherless for so long. That she would realize her love for her son was stronger than her hatred for her husband.

  But that pleasant fantasy had died with her.

  If ever he missed having Nadia in his life, it was now. She would understand his feelings in a way that no one else would, not even Kurt. She had been there for him when his mother had first left, and she had consoled him through the early years when he had stubbornly continued to hope his mother would come home, only to have those hopes dashed again and again.

  “Will you make sure Nadia’s parents let her come to the funeral?” he asked, knowing he was tempting fate. No matter what his father said, Nate was convinced there was a vendetta in play, and revealing his desire to have Nadia there might be the best way to guarantee she wouldn’t be allowed to come. “No one knows that she’s not my fiancée anymore, and the press won’t be there. There’s no reason—”

  “I’ll make sure she’s there.” If Nate didn’t know better, he would swear the look on his father’s face was one of concern, even care. “But try not to grow too dependent on her, son. We both know she will no longer be a part of your life once the engagement to Agnes is made official.”

  Nate swallowed several angry responses. His father might be able to control whom Nate married, but Nate was damned if he’d allow him to control who was a part of his life. If Nadia’s family sent her away, he would find a way to bring her back. Whatever it took. And if his father and Agnes didn’t like it, well … all the better.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Having spent all day alone with her gloomy thoughts, Nadia couldn’t wait to get out of her room and meet Dante on Friday night. Leaving well before their midnight rendezvous time, she was so impatient that her sense of caution failed her. The moment she stepped out of her room, she practically collided with Mari, who was patrolling the hallway. Not really patrolling, of course. Just making herself available for any guests who might need something.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Miss Lake?” Mari asked, glancing pointedly at her watch. Most retreat guests were in bed by now.

  Nadia smiled and hoped she didn’t look as anxious as she felt. The last thing she needed was to make Mari suspicious.

  “No, thank you,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d stop by the library and get a new book.”

  She couldn’t tell from Mari’s expression whether she was buying it or not.

  “Poor dear,” Mari said, still with the same expression of false cheer. Her face had probably frozen that way. “Would you like a cup of chamomile tea? Works great for me when I have trouble sleeping.”

  “No, thanks.” God, this woman was annoying. Nadia wasn’t sure if she was genuinely trying to be helpful or if she was just nosy. “Curling up with a good book is what does it for me.”

  “All right. You let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I’ll do that,” Nadia promised, then practically bolted from the hall.

  Shaken by what felt like a close call, Nadia dutifully stopped by the library and picked up a book. At least this way if she wound up bumping into Mari again on her way back in, she’d have evidence that she’d been to the library as she’d claimed. How she would explain being gone so long—especially if Mari asked the librarian how long Nadia had been there—she wasn’t yet sure.

  Book tucked under her arm, Nadia slipped out of the building and made her way across the grounds. Clouds had rolled in since last she was outdoors. The grass was damp, and the air smelled of wet earth. Nadia hadn’t noticed it raining, but she supposed that wasn’t surprising when she’d been lost in thought. A quick glance up at the sky revealed no hint of moon or stars, but she had no way of knowing if those clouds portended more rain.

  Dante was waiting for her when she arrived at their rendezvous, and once again, he was inside the fence. She would have scolded him for taking unnecessary risks, except she was so glad to see him she found herself greeting him with a hug instead. She accidentally thumped him on the back with the book, and he laughed as he obliged her by slipping his arms around her.

  “Is that a book in your hand, or are you just glad to see me?” he teased, and Nadia smiled against his chest, surprised at how natural it felt to hold him like that.

  “I didn’t realize the two were mutually exclusive.”

  Keeping an arm around her shoulders, Dante guided her into the cover of the woods. He impressed her with his sense of direction by heading straight to the fallen tree they’d sat on the previous night. Like everything else around them, it was damp from the rain, but Dante opened up his raincoat and invited her to sit intimately close beside him.

  “You’re early,” Dante commented.

  “So are you.” She’d expected to have to wait for him, but she certainly wasn’t unhappy that she didn’t have to. “How long have you been here?”

  She felt his shrug. “A while. I parked closer tonight than I have before. I don’t want to leave the car in the same place every night. Someone might notice.”

  His words reminded her once again how much of a risk Dante was taking by coming here every night. Maybe he was right, and his position as a security spy would allow him to talk himself out of trouble, but she didn’t imagine his superiors in the department would be too happy about his extracurricular activities. She wasn’t even sure his resistance superiors would be happy about them. What vital information could he possibly learn from a girl who was completely cut off from her Executive life?

  “You shouldn’t keep coming here,” she said, though even she could hear how halfhearted her protest was. She wanted to do the honorable thing and urge him to protect himself, but she wasn’t sure how she could face her current situation without his visits to look forward to.

  “I want to,” he said simply. “I always thought Executives lived the good life, but I can see with my own two eyes that they’re treating you like shit. Um, I mean dirt.”

  She glanced up at his face and saw his wince. It made her smile. “You think I’ve never heard the word ‘shit’ before?” she tease
d. “I’ve also heard ‘fuck,’ and—”

  Dante laughed and covered his ears. “Stop! You’re shattering my illusions!”

  She gave him an answering grin, even as she thought to herself sadly that with her fall from grace, she would never have to censor her language again. Her fellow inmates at the Executive retreat might look down their noses at her if she let something “unladylike” slip out of her mouth, but it would be nothing compared to the reaction she’d have gotten out in the public world. Executive girls did not swear. That didn’t mean she’d never been exposed to bad language, both on the net and from real people. Bishop, in particular, had gone out of his way to be offensive whenever he thought he could get away with it.

  She snuggled more closely against Dante’s side as the humor drained out of her. “You haven’t by any chance heard anything else about what my parents are going to do with me, have you?” Perhaps it was disloyal of her to encourage Dante to spy on her parents, but since she figured he’d be doing it anyway, it couldn’t hurt to try to find out what he’d learned.

  Dante rubbed up and down her arm in a comforting gesture. “I don’t think they’ve even spoken to each other since yesterday. They were both pretty angry. Your mother and your sister went a couple rounds this evening, I think, but by the time I got close enough to hear what they were saying, they’d stopped. Don’t give up hope. You’ve got people in your court.”

  Nadia made a vague sound of agreement, but she wasn’t what you’d call convinced. Gerri was a more formidable opponent than their father, but even she had trouble standing up to their mother. And, of course, she had her children to think about. If Nadia remained in the public eye, the taint of her scandal would trickle down to every member of her family. Right now, her niece and nephew were too young to understand and be hurt by it, but when they got older, they would be subject to the taunts of jealous peers.

  Nadia was already feeling gloomy enough that the first drop of rain spattering on the tip of her nose seemed only fitting. More drops quickly followed.

  “Damn it!” Dante cursed, then started wriggling around. Nadia had no idea what he was doing until he managed to work one of his arms out of the sleeve of his coat. “Put this on.”

  Nadia shook her head and put her hand on his arm to stop him before he could go any further. “I won’t melt,” she told him as it started raining harder.

  She read the stubborn jut of his chin before the next words left his mouth. “You can’t go back to the retreat all wet.”

  She didn’t let go of his arm, and with her sitting on part of his coat already, she had him fairly well hobbled. “It’s a lost cause. Even if I put your coat on and raise the hood, my feet and legs will still get wet. If someone sees me coming in, they’ll know I’ve been outside.” Not to mention that the book she’d taken from the library was already starting to feel soggy.

  Dante looked so stricken she couldn’t resist reaching up and running her fingers down his cheek. “There’s no rule that says I can’t go out wandering in the rain at midnight if I want to,” she assured him. “I’m not going to get into any trouble.”

  She would have to be extra careful about any future midnight forays, because the staff would probably be suspicious of her explanation. She’d definitely be worried that someone was watching her. But that wasn’t the same as getting in trouble, and she only had to worry about it if someone actually saw her.

  Dante went back to looking stubborn. “If you think I’m going to sit here in my coat while you get soaked, you’re nuts.”

  “Out here in the middle of the night with no one to see, you’re not a servant, and I’m not an Executive, and you have the right to wear your own coat.”

  The muscles in his jaw worked. “For your information, I’m not a real servant anywhere else, either. And I’d offer my coat to an Employee girl just as fast, so it’s not some stupid class thing.”

  He tried to slip his other arm out of his sleeve, but Nadia held on tight, wondering if she looked as stubborn as he did. “You mean it’s some stupid sex thing instead, right? As in the big, strapping man can’t let the helpless little girl get rained on?”

  “Are you always this difficult?” he asked in exasperation.

  “I try.” She wasn’t quite sure where she was finding the guts from, but she actually winked at him. Apparently, she was channeling her inner Nate, though she somehow doubted Dante saw it that way.

  The rain was steady now, and her hair was plastered to the top of her head. Her sweater was so far keeping the rain from soaking through, but the same could not be said of her spa pants, which were beginning to cling to her legs. Dante’s arm around her shoulders was keeping her partially dry there, despite the way the empty sleeve drooped, and her side where she was pressed up against him was still deliciously warm.

  Dante rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine. Put your arm in this sleeve.” He wriggled the empty sleeve, as if she might have some doubt about which one he meant. “We’ll share.”

  It seemed like a fair compromise, especially when she didn’t think she could possibly convince him to put his own arm back in the sleeve. She quickly discovered, however, that the coat wasn’t all that roomy, and to get her arm in the sleeve, she had to do some odd contortions.

  “Here,” Dante said, “this’ll make it easier.”

  Nadia let out an undignified little squeak as Dante hauled her onto his lap. Since his coat had been open, his pants were wet, but she didn’t mind a bit. Her cheeks burning, she got her arm into the sleeve. The coat strained across Dante’s broad back, but the strain lessened when she slipped her other arm around him under the coat. He held the coat as close around her as he could, but Nadia hardly felt the chill of the rain anymore.

  Nadia felt the beat of Dante’s heart where her body pressed against his, aware that his pulse had quickened—as had hers. Rain ran in rivulets down his face, trickling under the collar of his coat and dripping off the tip of his nose. His hair, darkened by rain and night, hung in damp tendrils against his skin, and his eyes looked huge and hungry. But most shocking—and thrilling—of all was that sitting on his lap, she couldn’t help but notice the way he stirred beneath her. It made her pulse trip and her breath hitch, this oh-so-tangible evidence that he wanted her in a way Nate never had, never could.

  Dante cleared his throat. “Maybe we shouldn’t—” he started in a still-hoarse voice, but Nadia was dead tired of doing what she should do. Just this once, she was going to do what she wanted to do. She raised her free arm to wrap her hand around the back of Dante’s neck, then pulled his head down toward hers. Meeting him halfway, she kissed him.

  She thought perhaps that he’d offer up at least a token resistance, that his sense of propriety might put up barriers she’d have to work harder to knock down, but the moment her lips touched his, it was like a circuit was completed. He made a soft, sexy groaning sound deep in his throat and immediately deepened the kiss, angling his head for the best fit. His lips were deliciously soft, and yet demanding at the same time. Nadia’s body thrilled in a way it never had before, showing her just how much she had been missing during the chaste kisses she and Nate had staged.

  Dante’s tongue brushed against the seam of her lips, and without thinking about it, Nadia opened her mouth and invited him in. The first touch of his tongue against hers was both incendiary and … strange. She’d never really thought about what another person’s tongue might feel like, so soft and hot and pliant. She wondered at the new sensation for about half a second before she lost herself again, feeling without thinking.

  Rain continued to patter, and if Dante’s kiss hadn’t been warming her from the inside out, Nadia would have shivered in the damp chill. Rainwater had soaked through her sweater wherever it wasn’t protected by Dante’s coat. Drops pattered against her exposed cheek. And she didn’t give a damn. Dante was kissing her, and he meant it, and that was all that mattered. It was the most glorious thing she’d ever felt, and she wanted it to go on forever.<
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  Dante pulled away long before she was ready. He was breathing hard, and she could feel the tension in his body, tension that spoke of a desire and longing that matched her own.

  “We have to stop,” he whispered, his lips still within kissing distance of hers.

  “Why?” Nadia asked, trying to close the distance, but Dante cupped his hand around her cheek and held her off.

  It was so dark, Nadia could see little more than shadows, and yet she was intensely aware of his gaze burning into her, and there was a slight tremor in the hand against her cheek. He took a deep breath, then swallowed hard before he answered.

  “Because if we don’t, this is going to go too far.” He shifted beneath her, making her even more aware of his obvious arousal.

  By the values of Executive society, they had already gone way too far, mostly because of the difference in their social status. But even if Dante were a respectable Executive, going any further than heated kisses would be unacceptable. An Executive girl was expected to maintain her virtue for the man she was destined to marry. Once she became a full adult in the eyes of society—which wouldn’t happen until she was in her twenties—the rules of conduct would relax slightly. But a girl of Nadia’s age would be ruined. Of course, Nadia already was ruined in the eyes of society, because everyone assumed she’d been sleeping with Nate. The fact that it wasn’t true was of no importance.

  “It seems to me that since I’m ruined anyway, I can decide for myself how far is too far,” she said, trying to convince herself that this, at least, was a good thing.

  “You’re not ruined yet,” he murmured as his thumb caressed her cheek, his hand still burning hot against her skin. “The new marriage arrangement hasn’t been made public, and it’s always possible it will fall through before anyone but your family knows.”

  Technically true, she supposed. But if the Chairman decided she wasn’t a fit bride for his son—or just that he wanted to punish her for having blackmailed him into destroying Thea—it seemed unlikely her arrangement with Nate would be allowed to stand even if Agnes were somehow removed from the picture.