“Thank you,” she said, drinking in the warmth—and taking a moment to admire how Dante looked without the bulky jacket hiding his form. Even when she’d thought him an enemy spying on her for Dirk Mosely, she’d always been reluctantly aware of how nice he was to look at. He was unlike anyone Nadia knew, the complete opposite of the polished Executive teenager. His good looks had not sprung from a pampered life, an expert tailor, or a professional stylist. His skin was tanned, his nose freckled, his upper body solidly muscled, but with muscles that had been earned by hard work, not carved and cultivated in a gym. And yet the coarse appearance looked right on him, and Nadia suspected he’d lose a lot of his appeal if an Executive stylist tried to polish him.
Nadia realized she was staring and quickly looked away. She hoped Dante hadn’t noticed, but he was a spy. He didn’t miss much. Luckily, he didn’t have Nate’s ego, so he didn’t start preening—or tease her.
“They won’t let you wear your own clothes here?” Dante asked.
Nadia clutched his jacket more tightly over her shoulders. “No. The place is a living hell, where everyone smiles and tells you to relax and have fun.” She gave a dramatic shudder. “If I don’t get out of here soon, they’re going to have to lock me in the mental ward.”
Nadia had meant her words to be flippant, but the terror she was expressing was very real and must have shown in her voice. Dante reached through the bars and took one of her hands, giving it a warm squeeze.
A proper Executive would have jerked her hand away and reminded him of his place. Even here, in the middle of the night, with no one to see, she should have demanded he respect her status and not do something so familiar as holding her hand. But instead of doing what she should, she curled her fingers around his and hung on.
“I’m scared, Dante,” she admitted. “I’ve been here less than a week, and I’m miserable already, and I know they might never let me out.”
Dante squeezed her hand again. “They won’t keep you here forever,” he assured her, though he had no way of knowing that. “The media storm is already beginning to die down. They’re starting to sniff around someone else’s skirts, and you know how much they love to jump on whatever’s newest.”
Nadia felt sorry for whomever the press had descended upon now, but she was grateful nonetheless. If someone else would make a big enough splash, the press would forget about Nadia altogether and she’d be able to get out of this godforsaken place.
“Who are they picking on now?” she asked. She wasn’t as fond of gossip as other Executive girls her age, but she had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity, especially when she was so cut off from the news. And she couldn’t help hoping the media’s victim would be someone she despised, like the Terrible Trio of Jewel, Cherry, and Blair.
Dante grinned at her, his eyes glinting with mischief, and she figured he knew exactly what she was thinking. To her knowledge, he’d never met Cherry, but he’d had to wait on Jewel and Blair before, so he knew exactly how much they deserved to be knocked down a peg.
“No one you know, I’m afraid. There’s a delegation from Synchrony making a state visit this week. Chairman Belinski brought the whole family, including his daughter, Agnes. Either the press in Synchrony isn’t as aggressive as ours, or poor Agnes doesn’t get out much. Let’s just say her answers to some reporters’ questions haven’t been terribly articulate.”
Nadia cocked her head. It sounded to her like Dante felt genuine sympathy for Agnes Belinski. “Let me get this straight: you’re cutting an Executive girl some slack instead of chortling about her misfortunes?”
“I do not chortle,” he replied in tones of offended dignity, but he quickly lost any sign of humor. “Yes, I feel sorry for her, even though she’s an Executive. She doesn’t seem to have the … advantages the rest of you have.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s not as polished, or as self-assured.” He met her eyes, and his voice dropped lower. “And she’s not beautiful, either.”
The words traveled through her like an electric shock, raising goose bumps on her skin. For the first time, she realized that she was still holding Dante’s hand, and that his thumb was rubbing back and forth over her knuckles. Her breath froze in her lungs as she met his gaze. For a fraction of a second, she thought perhaps she was reading things into his words, misinterpreting the cues. But no. The look in his eyes told her quite plainly what he meant.
“You think I’m beautiful?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
One corner of his mouth tugged up in a small smile. “You know you are.”
Nadia shook her head. She couldn’t count how many times she’d been told she was beautiful or read a rhapsodic description of herself in the society columns, but those were just empty words, meant to flatter the daughter of a powerful Executive family. Nate had called her beautiful more than once, but it didn’t mean much coming from him, either, since he wasn’t that interested in female beauty. Hearing the words from Dante was something altogether different, and she didn’t know what to say. She did know she should let go of his hand and put a little distance between them, but she couldn’t seem to make herself do it.
Dante reached through the bars and took her other hand, and she let him. Her heart was beating double time, and she couldn’t seem to take in enough oxygen.
“When I heard you’d been arrested—” he started to say, then had to stop to clear his throat. “I’m sorry I had such a chip on my shoulder when we first met. It didn’t take me long to realize you weren’t like the rest of the Executive girls, but it wasn’t until you were arrested that I realized how much I’d come to … admire you. I told myself that if I ever saw you again, I’d let you know. So here I am. Letting you know.”
She couldn’t tell in the darkness, but Nadia suspected he was now blushing. He shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, and she worried that her silence was giving him the impression she was offended or uncomfortable. She was neither.
“Thank you,” she said, and it was her turn to squeeze his hands. “It means the world to me that you came all the way out here to see me, even if it was just to bring me the phone. I feel a lot less alone now than I did before I got your note.”
Dante smiled at her, but he let go of her hands. She tried not to let her disappointment show. It was certainly for the best. If someone were to catch her holding hands with a servant in the middle of the night, it would be just the kind of scandal that could land her in a retreat permanently.
“The phone is secure and untraceable,” he said, turning businesslike. “Nate has a secure phone, too, so he can call you if there’s trouble. You only want to use it in case of emergency, though. Don’t call him because you feel blue.”
She had no trouble reading between the lines, and she laughed a little. “I’ll assume your resistance leaders are listening to every word I say if I ever use the phone.”
This time, she was sure he was blushing, but he didn’t tell her she was wrong. “I’m sure you’ll be getting out soon, but just in case you need to see a friendly face, I’ll come hang out here at midnight every night. You don’t have to come meet me, but I’m here if you need me.”
Nadia’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to do that!”
“But I will anyway.”
Because his resistance bosses wanted him to? Or because he wanted to? Nadia didn’t have the guts to ask.
“You’ll waste almost three hours driving back and forth from Manhattan,” she protested. “And you still have a job to go to, don’t you?”