He adjusted his grip, bundling her closer. “This is exactly what I meant.” And it was. His heart tripped beneath her palm. He wanted her next to him any way he could have her. And the knowledge of that was thrilling. Comforting.
Terrifying.
He wanted Netta. He wanted her for the long term.
He wanted her forever.
He waited for something to happen. A lightning bolt to hit the hackney. For God to strike him down senseless. After all the times he’d sworn to never want anything long-lasting with a woman, he was sure a chastisement was in order for his change of heart.
This feeling of longing wasn’t natural, not for him. But he was never one to deny himself what he wanted. And he wanted Netta.
Perhaps it only made sense to make their relationship more permanent.
He tucked his chin on top of her head.
After all, with the trouble she got into, he’d need to be around to keep her safe.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Netta hobbled to John’s study door and raised her hand to knock. She paused, willed her hand to strike the wood, then lowered it. Her shoulders rounded. Good Gad, when did she become a coward?
The back of her throat burned. He was going to be disappointed. Angry, perhaps. His plan relied on her enticing Sudworth into a bet. He wanted that deed back so badly, and she’d wanted to help him, but it couldn’t be. She’d taken the days of recuperation, telling herself it was best to wait until she was fully healed before telling John the truth.
In case he decided to throw her out, she needed to be able to walk.
That had been her excuse in any case. John wouldn’t toss her into the streets. He wasn’t that type of man. She just didn’t want to see the reproach in his eyes. The betrayal that she’d lied to him about who she was, yet again.
She dropped her forehead to the cool wood. She couldn’t lose him. It would hurt too much.
The door swung inward, and she stumbled into John’s waiting arms.
“What are you doing out here, poppet? Trying to eavesdrop again?” He brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “I told you I’d take care of it.”
Itbeing the man who’d seized control of their carriage. She frowned. That first night of the accident the doctor had given her laudanum as he’d cleaned and bandaged her ankle. It wasn’t broken, but had swollen to a grotesque size. She hadn’t known when John had left or what he’d learned, and hadn’t cared.
The next day, however, he had thwarted every attempt on her part to learn what his interview of the blackguard had revealed. And the blasted man had remained steadfastly silent. It was enough to make a woman scream with frustration.
“I shouldn’t have to eavesdrop.” She planted her hands on her hips. “I was kidnapped, too. You should tell me what you learned from the man you caught.”
He stepped close and placed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Your priority is to heal. I’ll take care of everything else.”
The words should have annoyed her. And made her suspicious. It was unlike John to keep information from her in a perverse attempt to protect her sensibilities. In that respect, he was very unlike the typical male. But as his soft lips nibbled at her own, as his tongue slowly pressed into her mouth, any annoyance dried up.
But she still had her pride. She pulled back. “I am almost fully healed. Stop with this nonsense and tell me.”
John twisted his lips in a wry smile. “You won’t let me coddle you like a normal woman, will you?”
“There are other ways I like to be coddled.” His eyes lit with interest, and she held up her hand. “First, tell me what you know.”
“Bloody little.” He ran his hand up the back of his head. “One of the reasons I didn’t want to talk is because I don’t like admitting to complete and utter failure. By the time I returned to the scene, Wil was there waiting but our quarry had disappeared.” He pinched his lips tight. “Apparently he had quite the sum of money on him and paid off our very bribeable sailor to release him.”
“How much money?”
“Enough to make me wary,” John said. “If a low-level criminal is carrying such a sum on his person, his boss must be wealthy indeed. And I let the one man who could lead me to him slip right through my fingers.”
Netta cupped his cheek and kissed the corner of his frown. “From my perspective, you performed magnificently that night.” He’d saved her life. Kept her calm when she’d felt the panic clawing at her insides.
She idly scratched the back of his neck. “This man who took your carriage. Is he related to your work for the Crown?” She had her suspicions about that. How many earls would climb from a moving carriage to dispatch a ruffian?
