“Almost thirty years.”
Good Lord. When the man set his mind to holding a grudge, he did it with everything he had. She glared across the theatre to the Mallen box. What a despicable woman. Regardless of the sins of the son-in-law, she should have cared for her daughter’s children.
John chuckled. “You look angry enough on my behalf to confront her and cause a scene.”
“I have half a mind to do so!”
“Entertaining as that would be,” he said, “I do believe you owe me several favors for my dramatic soliloquy. I intend to collect.”
She gave one last pointed glare at the marchioness then erased her from her thoughts. John was at her side and in need of some diversion.
“And I intend to deliver. Has your mysterious companion put on enough of a show for the night?”
Taking her hands, he stood, pulling her up behind him. “More than enough. For the rest of the evening, I only want you to put on a show for me.”
***
“This wasn’t what I had in mind for my reward.” John tugged at the curtain cords binding his wrists to the headboard of his bed. The blindfold around his eyes itched like the dickens and the fire beside his bed wasn’t enough to keep his naked body warm.
That was where Netta was supposed to come in, but she was doing a damned fine job of rousing his interest then leaving him wanting. She’d undressed him, trussed him to the bed, then disappeared for a solid ten minutes for “supplies” before returning in a breathless rush.
And still cool air pressed upon him instead of her lush body.
He twisted his wrist. “I do think I should have been the one to choose the form of my reward after baring my soul to you.” Something he might yet regret. He’d never told anyone that story. Marcus knew some of it, and Wil probably suspected. But the rest of his friends he’d met after he’d restocked the Summerset coffers.
Which probably explained why Sutton expressed such concern over his plan. He wanted John to consult Liverpool since the security of the state might be at risk. And he damn sure didn’t want John stealing from the Dutch embassy without preauthorization from the government.
Sutton couldn’t understand how important the ore mines were to John, how the thought of losing them, losing everything he’d worked for, twisted his gut and stole his breath. Once the problem was in Liverpool’s hands, recovering the deed to Robert’s property would become of secondary importance.
“Stop your whining.” The mattress shifted beside him. “And stop turning your hand about. You’ll chafe the skin right off your wrist.”
He snorted. All sweetness and concern his Netta was not. When she had children and one of them fell, she would be the mother telling her child to get back on his feet rather than coo and kiss the sting away.
Something pinched behind his breastbone. Did she want to be a mother? After she left him, would she find some poor sot to marry and start a family? Or would she focus on her career? He wanted her to be happy, of course, but the idea of some other man on the receiving end of her rebukes, saucy remarks, and eyerolls made him want to punch right through his wall.
A trickle of oil drizzled onto his chest, followed by her hands smoothing the substance down his abdomen.
He relaxed into the bed. This was more like it. “If you could go a bit lower, I’d be most grateful.”
“Patience.” She changed directions, gliding her hands up his arms and earning her an exasperated sigh.
“You know I’ll make you feel good.” She brushed her lips over his.
He raised his head to increase the pressure and she pulled back. The teasing minx.
“Besides. We have all night.” She traced a circle around each of his nipples and followed the caress with her tongue.
John’s cock went full hard. A pulse throbbed in it, and he shifted his hips, needing it to touch any part of her.
She took pity and cupped him, squeezing lightly. “I do quite enjoy having you at my mercy. Defenseless.” She swiped her tongue over his crown, and he groaned. “In fact— eep!” Her hand disappeared and the bed bounced.
John pulled at his wrists, but she’d done too good a job with the knots. “What? What’s wrong?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Netta.” He injected as much iron into his voice as he was able. Blindfolded and tied to a bed didn’t put him in a position of authority.
“Truly, it is nothing dangerous. Merely…something you would find distasteful.” The bed shifted, raised as she clambered off of it. “I’ll just go get a broom to get rid of it. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
