“He hurt you yesterday, didn’t he?” Dante asked.
Nadia reflexively put her hand to her middle, where Mosely had hit her. The pain had been sudden and shocking, and the ugly threats that had come with it had haunted Nadia’s sleep. “I thought I hid it better than that,” she said, her knees suddenly feeling weak. She headed toward the conference table, grabbing a chair and turning it around to face Dante as she sat down.
Dispensing with the servant act completely, Dante pulled out another chair for himself and sat. “You’re much better at acting than I am,” he assured her. “It’s just that I know how he operates.”
“You were very nice to me afterward,” she said. She remembered the kindness in his eyes when he’d found her, still reeling from Mosely’s visit, and she remembered how he’d made her a cup of tea without being asked. “Was that all part of the act? Mosely being the bad cop and you being the good one?”
Dante raised an eyebrow. “Did I ask you any questions?”
No, he hadn’t. Hadn’t shown any sign that he was trying to take advantage of the weakened state Mosely had left her in. “Guess you’re as bad at being a spy as you are at being a servant.”
She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, but Dante didn’t take offense. Instead, he smiled, the first full, genuine smile she’d ever seen on him. The smile brought out dimples, which in combination with the freckles over the bridge of his nose might have made him look cute if he weren’t so physically imposing.
He really was nice to look at. Not as polished and traditionally handsome as Nate, of course, but he was more rough-hewn and rugged. Certainly not the kind of boy an Executive girl should be attracted to, but maybe that in and of itself was part of his appeal.
“I’m still a beginner,” he said, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Give me a couple years, and I’ll have earned my cloak and dagger.”
She shook her head at him, realizing that he’d been putting on more of an act than she’d originally thought. Now that he’d decided to stop pretending to be a servant, his whole demeanor had changed. Even his body language was different, loose and completely relaxed. She’d seen hints of this side of him before—most noticeably when she was verbally sparring with Jewel and he was trying not to laugh—but even if he hadn’t quite mastered the demeanor of a servant, he had certainly managed to make himself considerably more stiff and formal.
She couldn’t ever remember anyone but Nate being this relaxed around her. Certainly not any of the Executive boys she knew, who were all too afraid of offending Nate to let down their guard with her.
She felt a pang of loss as she remembered that Nate would never again be this easy with her, either. She’d have rather lost the engagement to him than to have lost his friendship, and the pain was stunning.
“What’s wrong?” Dante asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he leaned forward in his chair. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, stiffening her spine and telling herself to get over it.
“Spoken like a true Executive,” he muttered under his breath, though she was sure she was supposed to hear it. “Never admit weakness around the help.”
She’d have been annoyed at the jab, if she didn’t sense it was just a ploy to get her to admit what was bothering her. She didn’t think he was probing on Mosely’s behalf, but she couldn’t be sure. Still reeling from the fresh loss, she could easily find herself dropping her guard and revealing too much to someone who offered her so much as a modicum of kindness. She forced a brittle smile.
“Never admit anything in the presence of one of Dirk Mosely’s spies, you mean,” she corrected him, and was rewarded with a minute flinch.
“Good point,” he said, clasping his hands between his knees and looking away.
His obvious guilt made her like him better—again. “How did someone like you end up working for someone like Mosely?” she found herself asking, unable to reconcile the glimpses she’d gotten of the real him with the kind of sleazy individual who would voluntarily work for Mosely.
The open friendliness in Dante’s face suddenly shut down. “I’m afraid that’s a state secret,” he said. His smile said he was trying to make a joke of it, but it clearly wasn’t a joke. She might have pressed him on it, except he beat her to the punch. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something. I’m pretty sure my employment history isn’t it, so what is it?”
Nadia would have loved to delve more deeply into Dante’s secrets, intrigued by his contradictions, but she had far more important things to talk about, and her curiosity would have to take a backseat. As long as Dante was Mosely’s spy, he was the enemy, and she had to be careful not to reveal anything she shouldn’t.
“You slipped an envelope into the napkin on my breakfast tray this morning,” she said, watching his face closely for a reaction.
His brows drew together in a puzzled frown. “Excuse me?”
He almost managed to pull off the act. The facial expression was just right, as was the baffled-sounding tone of his voice. If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she’d have missed the way his eyes widened for a split second before he regained control of his expression.
“Do we have to go through this denial thing again?” she asked as her mind worried at the convoluted puzzle. Of all the people who worked in the Lake family household, Dante seemed like the
“Yeah, we do,” Dante said with a stubborn set to his chin. “I didn’t put anything on your tray.” He glanced over her shoulder at the refreshments table behind her. “I still have a lot of clean-up to do,” he said, starting to stand up, “so if you’ll excuse me—”
“Sit down!” she snapped, her tone so sharp it startled him into submission. She glared at him. “I don’t have the patience to play this game anymore. I know you put that message on my tray. You were
His surprise at her unladylike language would have been comical if circumstances hadn’t banished Nadia’s sense of humor into a cold and lonely exile.
“I didn’t think Executive girls knew words like dumbass existed, much less let them drop from their pure and virginal mouths.” He said it like it was a joke, but there was an edge in his voice that belied any humor.
“Is it just Executive girls you hold in such contempt, or is it all Executives? Or all girls?” She knew jealousy made a lot of people in the lower classes look down their noses at Executives, but she’d never been so blatantly slapped in the face with it before. It was worse than silly, but Nadia actually felt stung by it. It shouldn’t matter to her what Mosely’s spy thought of her, but she’d had more than her fill of contempt in the last few days.
Dante sighed and settled back down in his chair. “Sorry,” he said, looking like he meant it. “I have a problem with girls like your lovely classmates, but you’re not like them.”
Since Nadia felt much the same way about Jewel and Blair, she let the subject drop. “So are you ready to admit you put the envelope on my tray so we can move on?”
“Move on to what?”
Good question. She wanted to know how a message from Bishop had found its way into Dante’s hands, but there was a chance Dante didn’t know who it was from, and if he didn’t know, Nadia wanted to keep it that way. He didn’t exactly seem fond of his boss, but she doubted his low opinion of Mosely would keep him from revealing any important information he learned.
“Who gave you the envelope?” she asked, deciding that was the safest tack to take.
“I don’t know what envelope you’re talking about.” He looked her straight in the eye when he said it, but the lack of conviction in his voice told her it was a pro forma protest. He knew she wasn’t going to buy it, and yet he wasn’t willing to admit the truth.
For about a quarter of a second, Nadia considered the possibility of letting it drop, but the very fact that Dante was being so cagey about it meant there was more to learn and that it was important. The question was, how could she break down his reserve and get him to talk? If she were Mosely, she’d resort to threats, but she wasn’t …
She let the thought trail off in her mind. There was no way she could cajole Dante into talking. She could try bribery, but her every instinct screamed at her that the attempt would be not only futile, but counterproductive. She didn’t want to stoop to the level of those who’d used threats and blackmail to bend her to their will, but there was too much at stake for her to indulge her moral ideals.
