Revolution (Replica) (40 page)

In fact, the only concession she made to propriety was to keep her bedroom door open, and really that had nothing to do with Executive class values at all. It was simply the line past which her father refused to be pushed. Gerald Lake might be a shadow of his former self, but about one thing he was adamant.

“You’re only sixteen, Nadia,” he’d told her. “I don’t care what you may or may not have done with that boy when you were in hiding, but I will not have you alone with him behind closed doors. Not in my house!”

Nadia had given in because she knew it had nothing to do with Dante’s class status—there was
no
boy he’d allow her to be behind closed doors with, as long as he had any say in the matter. It was a parent thing, not a class thing. But the more time she spent with Dante, the more desperately she wanted to close that door.

What could her father possibly do to her if she defied him? After the hell she’d been through, she felt practically invincible.

She wrapped her arms around Dante’s neck, holding him close as she kissed his sun-chapped lips and felt the enticing play of muscles across his shoulders as he leaned over. His body was pressed against hers on the bed—on top of the covers, naturally—and the longing that thrummed through her veins was almost more than she could bear.

“Let’s close the door,” she whispered when Dante came up for air.

His dark eyes widened, and he pressed more tightly against her, letting her know how much he liked the suggestion. “But your father—”

“—doesn’t get to tell me what to do anymore,” Nadia finished firmly. “I’m taking charge of my own life, and I’m not letting him or anyone else get in my way.”

Dante kissed her again, long and deep. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he whispered against her lips.

“Yes,” she said, with absolute conviction. Over the last few days, she’d thought a lot about what she wanted. She had changed since the days of her engagement to Nate, but though she was no longer a slave to convention, she didn’t think she’d ever shake her conservative, cautious center. Taking her relationship with Dante to the next level would entail risks, no matter how careful and conscientious they were, and it was not a step to be taken lightly. She wanted to take it anyway. “I want you.”

She felt the tremor that rippled through him at those words and was glad to know this wasn’t just some casual thing for him. She’d never questioned him about any past girlfriends, but considering he’d been a resistance spy working as an infiltrator in the Paxco security department, she seriously doubted he’d had much of a social life. She might not be his first—she was too chicken to ask—but she would not be one of many, either.

Dante swallowed hard. “Then next time I come over,” he said breathlessly, “I’ll come prepared. Unless you’ve been taking some pills I don’t know about.”

Nadia let out a frustrated groan. Apparently, he hadn’t learned his lesson since the last time she’d tried to fling herself at him.

He smiled down at her. “It’s better this way,” he said, planting a light, teasing kiss on her lips. “Better to make a decision when we’re not in the heat of the moment.” His face sobered, and he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “If we do this, you can’t ever go back.”

“I don’t
want
to go back,” she assured him. “Besides, people already assumed I was sleeping with Nate. I don’t have much of a reputation left to protect.”

Dante rolled off her, but didn’t go far, cuddling her in his arms once more. “Executive society would eventually forgive you for sleeping with Nate. They won’t be as forgiving about me.”

“I don’t care,” Nadia said stubbornly. “I’m not going back to that life. Executive society can go to hell.”

Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside, and despite her declaration, Nadia hastily sat up and put some distance between herself and Dante. Just because she was no longer terrified of scandal didn’t mean she wanted to broadcast her private life to the world.

Crane appeared in the doorway and frowned mightily at what he saw. Nadia and Dante might have moved apart, but she suspected it wasn’t hard for the butler to guess what they’d been up to moments before he’d arrived.

“Pardon the interruption, Miss Lake,” he said, his voice dripping with disapproval, “but you have another visitor.”

“Who?” she asked. She wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Nathaniel. Excuse me, Chairman Hayes.”

“Wonder what he wants?” Nadia asked with a frisson of unease. She talked to Nate on the phone regularly, but their paths hadn’t crossed much in these early days of rebuilding Paxco.

“Shall I tell him you’re indisposed?”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “No, no. Tell him I’ll be right out.”

Crane left with a haughty sniff, and Dante climbed off the bed. “I’m going to duck out the servants’ entrance,” he said.

“That’s not necessary!” Nadia said. “It’s not like Nate doesn’t know about us.”

Dante grinned sardonically. “Yeah, but there’s knowing and there’s
knowing,
if you know what I mean. And call me crazy, but I don’t think dangling it in his face is a good idea.”

Nadia sighed quietly. Dante was probably right. He and Nate would never be friends, and Nate would probably never get over the little hint of irrational jealousy he’d always felt. His temper was considerably better controlled these days, but there was no reason to tempt fate.

“All right,” she said reluctantly.

Dante kissed her and smiled. “Just remember what we have planned for next time. Maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

He was right: it did.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

On
a Wednesday night, two weeks after Thea’s death and two days after Nate’s unexpected visit, Nadia allowed Crane to get the door while she waited in the small study where she had spent a lot of time doing schoolwork growing up. The living room just wouldn’t do for this particular conversation—she needed a room with a door she could close, but she didn’t want to send the wrong signal by using her bedroom. When she’d called to invite Dante over, he’d known immediately that something was wrong, though she’d refused to tell him about it on the phone. He probably wasn’t expecting tonight to be the “big night” despite their earlier decision, but why take chances? This was going to be difficult enough already.

Her stomach churned with anxiety, and there was a dull throbbing behind her eyes that might very well turn into one hell of a headache soon. Dante must have seen the turmoil in her face the moment he set eyes on her, but he waited until Crane retreated before enveloping her in a hug.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Let’s sit down for a bit,” she said. “My answer’s going to take a while.” Assuming she could get herself to spit it out at all.

They sat down together on an overstuffed love seat that ordinarily Nadia found very comfortable, a perfect spot to curl up and read. Tonight, though, she wanted to leap to her feet and pace the moment she sat down.

“You’re worrying me,” Dante said, his eyes full of gentle concern.

Nadia let out a grunt of frustration and ran her hand through her hair. It was an old habit that had worked fine with her long, silky hair, but not so much with her new heavily moussed ’do. She practically yanked her hair out by the roots when her fingers got stuck.

“Did you know that security has foiled two assassination plots against Nate already?” she asked, knowing that the question would seem to be coming out of left field.

Dante’s brow furrowed in an expression that combined puzzlement and concern. “I haven’t heard anything about it. Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Physically, at least. And they’ve managed to keep it out of the press so far.”

“You’re never going to convince me to
like
the bastard, but he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way people are treating him. I don’t get why they don’t see the difference between him and one of Thea’s puppets.”

Nadia suspected it was a hell of a lot easier for people who knew Nate to accept him than it was for total strangers. Strangers who knew that the original Nate—the
real
Nate, in their opinion—had died more than two months ago. As his father’s son and Thea’s creation, he stood for all the oppression of his father’s reign, and all the madness of Dorothy’s, and though Nadia had refused to admit it out loud, she suspected he was right and the people would never be able to see past it.

“It doesn’t matter why,” she said sadly. “It just matters that they don’t.”

Dante nodded. “I know. I’m sure it sucks to be him—and if you’d asked me a few months ago if I’d ever say something like that about an Executive, I’d have laughed you out of the room.”

Her lips twitched into a smile despite the heaviness in her heart. Dante had had one hell of a chip on his shoulder once upon a time. He still made disparaging comments about lazy, good-for-nothing Executives every once in a while, but at least he now acknowledged that there were exceptions to the rule.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Dante said. “If you have something you need to talk through, I’m always here for you. But why are we talking about Nate?”

Nadia rubbed her eyes, wishing she could rub away the headache that was forming between them. She didn’t want to get to the point, because the more she thought about it, the more she knew what Dante was going to say—and the less she liked it. But putting it off wasn’t going to make it any easier.

Nadia licked her lips, then recognized that she was still stalling and forced herself to talk. “Nate’s thinking of stepping down,” she said, though Nate had done more than just think about it. He’d made it clear when he’d come to see her that he was going to step down one way or another.

Dante looked momentarily surprised, then asked, “Who would be Chairman if he did?”

“Therein lies the rub,” she muttered.

“Huh?”

“He doesn’t have a clear heir. There are three cousins who might legitimately have a claim, but they’re all pretty distant relations, and Nate doesn’t think any of them would be a big improvement over his father.”

“Nadia, where are you going with this?”

“Nate consulted with some lawyers and the board of directors. It seems that in the absence of an undisputed heir, if Nate wants to step down, he can name his successor, as long as he picks someone the board approves of. Nate thinks they’d approve of just about
any
high-ranking Executive if it would mean getting rid of him.”

“Ungrateful assholes,” Dante contributed, and Nadia agreed with him. “So who is it he would name?” he asked, but she could see from the look in his eyes that he’d figured that out on his own. Not that she supposed it was that hard. Who else would Nate pick?

“Me,” she said. A chill of panic ran down her spine, and the pain of her headache redoubled. Her skin felt clammy and cold, her ribs tight.

It wasn’t the enormity of the job that scared her—she wouldn’t have all the powers of the Chairmanship until she was twenty-one and would have to have one or more trustees vetting her decisions until then. She hadn’t been her father’s heir until Gerri had died, but she had received the same education in economics and political science. Being a more conscientious student than Nate, she probably knew more about running a government than he did, even though he was two years older.

Dante shook his head, looking disgusted. And hurt. “So much for giving Executive society the finger,” he said with undisguised bitterness. “Guess you won’t be needing
me
around anymore.”

He tried to jump to his feet, but Nadia grabbed his arm and held on for dear life.

“I don’t want to do it, Dante. I don’t want to be Chairman.” It was the exact opposite of everything she wanted for her life. “I told him no.”

Dante stopped trying to get up, but his body was still alive with tension, his face still closed off. “But he talked you into it.”

“No. I told him I wouldn’t do it. I
can’t.
” In the past couple of weeks, when she’d stopped living her life based on what she was
supposed
to do and started basing it on what she
wanted
to do, she’d had her first real taste of freedom. How could she possibly give all of that up and go back to her old life in the fishbowl?

Dante frowned at her, cocking his head. “What do you mean you
can’t?
I think you’d make a
great
Chairman.”

Nadia blinked. “Wait. Now you want me to say yes?”

“No!” He rubbed his face, and when he met her gaze again, there was confusion in his eyes. “It’s just…” He huffed out a frustrated sigh. “It’s just that I’m being a selfish bastard. If you become Chairman, then you won’t be able to afford being seen with me.” His voice went hoarse. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Nadia’s heart felt like a lump of lead in her chest. Dante was going through the same mental process she had herself: the quick, knee-jerk refusal, followed by the realization of how selfish that refusal was.

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” she said. “That’s one of the many reasons I said no.”

Dante groaned and rubbed his face again. “But one way or another, Nate’s never going to be able to hold on to the Chairmanship, or he wouldn’t be thinking of stepping down. And if you don’t take his place, then one of the cousins will, and everyone will do their best to make sure Paxco goes back to being just the way it was.”

Nadia nodded. She already had a lot of burdens to live with thanks to all of the fateful decisions she’d been forced to make. How would she live with it if someone cut from the same cloth as the late Chairman Hayes came into power because she wasn’t willing to sacrifice the little fantasy life she’d built for herself?

“So what it comes down to,” Dante whispered, “is that we both know you have to say yes. No matter how much we both hate it.”

Nadia fought off a shiver. “If I’m named Chairman, then I become property of Paxco for the rest of my life. Do you have any idea what that means?”

“It means you have to go back to caring what society thinks of you.” He started, then looked a little queasy. “And it means you’ll have to start working out a new marriage arrangement.”