“Netta?” John cupped her shoulders and squeezed. “Netta?”
A cold wave of despair slid through her body, and she shook. “Yes?”
He studied her face. “You’re ill. We do need to get you home.”
“I’m fine.” But she let him bustle her into the carriage. She snuggled into his side as he draped a blanket around her body. Gave him her hands to warm between his own.
Another tremor shook her body. She was cold, ice-deep in her center, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel warm again.
Sudworth was their target.
And there was no way she could assist John in his scheme.
No way for her to earn that four thousand pounds. It would take years at the theatre before she would have the funds to take her and her sister out of England. Years her sister might not have.
She could ask John for financial help. To provide her a small nest egg for her future. He would most likely agree. But what nobleman would assist in the kidnapping of a child? And that’s what it would be under the eyes of the law. Her father wouldn’t hesitate to prosecute Netta, his own daughter, if he caught her spiriting Eleanor away.
What would he do to John?
He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer.
She rested her cheek on his chest and inhaled deeply.
Her plans were destroyed. And she didn’t have a clue what to do next.
Images of her past life, of that night, flashed through her mind, too fast to pin down, making her head ache. She needed to concentrate, find a solution, but her brain did nothing but spin in place.
She wasn’t going to get what she needed, not until she’d calmed her senses enough to think straight.
So she might as well have what she wanted.
And she wanted to forget.
They pulled up to John’s townhouse, and he handed her down. He drew off her mask and passed it with his to a footman. “Shall I have Mags bring you a tisane? Some willow bark tea?”
“No.” She preceded him into the house and headed for the stairs, knowing he would follow. “There is nothing Margaret could bring me that I need.”
“Then what—”
She took his hand and walked backwards down the hall to his bedroom. “I only need you. Tonight I don’t want games or tricks.” She felt bone tired, and even though she loved playing with John, the games took more energy than she had. Were a merriment she didn’t feel. She opened his door and pulled him through. “I only need you between my thighs, kissing my lips, to make me feel better. Is that agreeable to you?”
He pulled her to a standstill in the middle of the chamber. He threaded his fingers under her wig and slid it off, kneading her skull as he went. “Any time spent between your thighs is more than agreeable. But are you certain you wouldn’t be better with a back rub and a full-night’s sleep?”
“Positive.” She ran her hands over his costume, looking for the ties.
He assisted and drew the draped shirt over his head in one fluid motion.
Netta bit her lip and pressed her fingers to his hot skin. The more she knew him, the more beautiful he became. She traced the raised ridge of muscles on his chest, his light dusting of hair soft under her fingers. She drew a circle around his nipple and smiled when he sucked in a sharp breath.
Yes, a night losing herself in John’s arms was just what she needed. She lowered her head and followed the path of her finger with her tongue. Tasting him, feeling him, finding oblivion in his bed.
Her problems didn’t exist when she and John were together. Their heat formed a bubble, isolating them from the outside world.
John raised her hand to his mouth, nipping the end of one of her fingers before turning her around and undoing the buttons of her gown. He pushed it over her hips and down her legs. His breath tickled the inside of her thighs, and she inched her feet apart.
John chuckled. He dipped his hand under the edge of her chemise, skimming his fingers along the crease of her thigh, dancing over her outer lips, but withholding the pressure she needed. “How badly do you want me, poppet? If I press my finger in your body”—he paused, a gossamer’s touch over her opening—“will I find you wet for me?”
“Getting there.” She waggled her bum. “If you’d stop teasing I’d become so faster.”
