“I-I thought you made this all happen.”
Her words jarred him from the intimate moment, but his cock remained tight against his pants. “I had too much faith in the magic and not enough common sense. I tend to be a little impulsive and jump into things.” Plus I’m pretty taken with a beautiful woman.
“Did you really think the magic of some furniture could make us happily married? You don’t know a thing about me.” Her voice rose a pitch, although the frantic flickering of her gaze had eased. Another soft hiccup broke free.
He brushed the strands from her face, aching to comfort her. “I’m sorry, Joanie. I didn’t mean to hurt you. We’ll take the bureau and the chest of drawers to the shop tomorrow, first thing. You can even have the refund from mine—”
“I don’t want your money. I want my freedom.”
She began to stand. Jumping to his feet, he held out his hand to help her up. She ignored it.
“How can you enjoy your singleness so much?”
She turned to him, hands on hips, fire in her eyes. “Don’t you start.”
He laughed. “I’m not trying to win you over to the idea. I just need a few tips on how to be content as a single man.”
“Everyone’s different, Theo. I don’t know what your history is. Mine is probably very different from yours. I haven’t had any time to myself the last eight years. I’m reveling in it.”
He nodded. This would most likely be his last chance to be so near to her. The soft-pink terrycloth robe brought out the clear blue of her eyes and complemented the equally soft shade of her hair.
He ached to kiss her, to feel her skin and hair. “Please. One thing in exchange for helping you with the bureau and fixing the bird.”
“What?” The defensive tone returned.
Bending toward her, he wrapped his arms around her small frame. She seemed too stunned to pull away, so he brushed his lips over hers. The branding of her mouth on his was torturously short. He felt her pull away and, when he opened his eyes, she had left the room.
He would never forget that peck for the rest of his life. He’d french-kissed many women, but that one simple touch against Joanie’s lips had stirred a ravenous, gaping hole in his heart that only she could fill. It had set his body alight with a fire she alone could quench.
I’m doomed. What do I do now?
His legs took him to the door, and he found his way out of her house. The dark walk to his home two streets down failed to take him out of his trance or cool the fire raging in his body.
Chapter Five
Early the next morning, Joanie emptied the bureau in preparation for its move. She went outside and stood near the car. Where is Theo? He’d promised first thing this morning they would take the furniture to Yesterday’s Magic.
A very sane, level-headed part of her began to think the whole nightmare of the night before was just that—a nightmare.
She could check the barn swallow for cracks because Theo hadn’t made a perfect repair. Almost perfect.
The marriage papers, if they did exist, were underneath her manuscripts. She could check for that…. No. She touched her fingers to her lips, the feel of his kiss still lingering. Last night was real. It all happened. The papers are real, too.
Not that she’d fully enjoyed the kiss. Yes, her body had, but her heart hadn’t. How could her heart enjoy “love” forced on her? Yet her body craved more. Her mind ran ahead of her—conjuring images of him naked on her bed and poised over her, ready to ravish her, free for the taking, free to taste and feel as much as she liked. Strange sensations—tense and tremulous in their powers—pooled in her pelvis. Trying to ignore them, she pushed them down.
She supposed her sexual needs had been ignored most of her life, except for a few innocent instances of holding hands in junior high, an awkward kiss in high school, and some clumsy lovemaking after a party. She’d never considered it anything important. Why complicate things? Life provided enough of a challenge. It was hard enough keeping in shape and eating right. She didn’t need to stir a new appetite that raged out of control. She’d seen what it did to her friends—how they got into dysfunctional relationships and didn’t see a way out because the sex was good. Nah, it became a drug. Sex fueled the world, and she would not succumb.
Not that she didn’t want to settle down one day. One day—when she’d had plenty of holidays and quiet times to write lots of books, not for many years. The man she chose would be tame and predictable—someone she could trust. The sex didn’t have to be magic. He only had to be a good man who cared for her enough and understood her.
She’d expected Theo to arrive in a car, but, instead, he came by foot. His shape, as he approached her, was unmistakable.
She’d created and imagined him, hadn’t she? That was what troubled her about the whole magic thing. How could he have so precisely matched what she’d thought up? Unless she’d never created him and her book was all a farce. Maybe, she still couldn’t write—as she’d suspected all along.
The nearer he came to her, the more her insides burned. Longing to kiss and grope him streaked through her. If she hadn’t needed him to help with the furniture, she would get into her car right away and disappear.
As he came closer, he gave her a shy smile. “Hi.”
He stood beside her in a second, a male essence pouring off him and entering her via osmosis. Her pussy turned into a tight ball of need, and moisture sank into her panties. Bother! Sweat beaded her brow despite the cool air outside that morning. No man had ever done such things to her.
“I thought you said first thing in the morning.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Good thing it’s a Saturday.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s eight thirty. The antique shop opens at nine.”
“Oh.” She no longer had a reason to be angry with him or keep him at arm’s length.
“Ready to haul?”
She nodded, her mood perking at his cut-to-the chase attitude. “Ready as can be.”
Within minutes, they’d loaded the bureau in her car and headed for his place while he directed her.
“I presume you don’t have a vehicle.” She slowed into his driveway.
“I have a Nissan Z. If I strapped it to the roof, the chest would scratch the paintwork.”
“I see.” The guy was either rich, which wasn’t likely by the external view of his home, or more impulsive than she’d imagined. What caused someone to buy a sleek, aerodynamic sports car when the speed limit around town stipulated sixty? One daren’t go over a hundred twenty kilometers per hour on the highways. The cops had become much more vigilant as the road death toll had increased. There weren’t any deserted spots to let rip in the outer Durban area anymore. The place had become a concrete jungle from Amanzimtoti to Ballito. She remembered the sugarcane fields on the way to Tongaat while growing up. At present, townhouses, shopping malls, and businesses sprinkled every spot of land.
“I know. I made a stupid financial decision, which I regret.”
“Why’s that?” She couldn’t hide the smirk.
“Car payments can go on forever, especially with a residual. As sexy as she is to drive, the bank balance is a tyrant when you don’t keep it happy.”
She couldn’t help laughing at his honest confession. “Well, at least you learned something from your mistake.”
“I hope so.”
He hopes so? Seems like he doesn’t have enough common sense.
Why did it bother her so much? Not like she intended to stay married to him.
She remained in the driver’s seat while he rushed in to bring out the chest of drawers. Taking a quick glance at the piece before he found space for it in the back of her four-wheel drive, she couldn’t believe the similarity between the two units. They should have been sold as a set. Probably would have prevented the whole nightmare.
“When did you buy your piece?” she asked once he’d settled back in the passenger seat.
“About five days ago.”
She coughed, her throat closing her airway. Five days ago was about when her new book idea had sprung inside her and Theo had first been created—well, the concept of him. She’d been unable to invent the perfect hero for days, though. When she had, phew, he’d been hot. “How did you work the magic?”
“Well, the gypsy lady at the antique shop said I needed to put my belongings inside the unit and make a wish in my mind. I didn’t make the wish until I’d had the chest of drawers for four days. I couldn’t get myself to do it. So unlike me. I usually jump at things.”
“What held you back?”
“She said once the magic got set in motion, I couldn’t stop it.”
A cold shiver shook her shoulders. “Sounds like what she said to me. The whole magic thing creeps me out. I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t believe her at first.” He glanced at her.
“Me, either.”
She smiled. He wasn’t so bad. He also called the woman a gypsy and proved skeptical at first.
“She seems like an eccentric old lady who’s spent too many hours alone in a dusty old shop without much foot traffic.” His voice came out easy and relaxed, as though their conflict from the night before hadn’t happened.
“True.”
“Yet she said something that made me unable to stop thinking about the magic.”
“What?”
“She said the thing I’ve been longing for is way bigger than I could ever imagine, and that it would impact many lives—not just my own.”
“Huh?” Joanie mock strangled herself with her left hand. “She’s way too creepy for her own good. She belongs in a caravan with a palm-reader sign strung over the windows. I don’t like anyone playing around with my future.”
“Why not? If it helps your future—”
“No, it’s wrong. We make our own futures.”
“Yes, we do, but we could sometimes do with some help along the way.”
She shook her head. He probably liked to take the easy way out. His Nissan Z proved that—how he didn’t plan things then ended up in a mess. Her life hadn’t offered any opportunities to take shortcuts. She’d had to lay down her own needs for years in order to care for her family.
She smiled to herself as they drove in silence the rest of the way. As difficult as her parents’ death and aunt’s sickness had been, she was grateful it had made her develop some backbone and maturity beyond her years. She hadn’t sewn her wild oats while young and hadn’t started off on a bad footing. If she could get her writing career into gear, then her whole life would be right on track.
Despite the month-end traffic, they were at the antique store in minutes. She parked and followed Theo inside as he carried her unit.
“I’m returning the bureau,” Joanie told the gypsy.
The woman scowled. “I don’t do refunds or exchanges.”
She searched for Theo, but he’d gone outside to fetch the chest of drawers. “Listen. You can keep twenty percent of the money. I’m sure you’ll sell it to someone else. It’s beautiful.”
“Why don’t you want it?”
Theo arrived with the chest of drawers.
“Ahh, I see.” The gypsy nodded. “I see why.”
Theo set his unit next to her bureau. “I’m returning the chest of drawers.”
“Young man, as I’ve told Miss Ayres here, I don’t do refunds or exchanges.”
Heck, the woman even remembered her name. Spider legs ran along her arms. She glanced around the shop, wondering what other objects for sale messed with people’s lives and emotions. In truth, she felt sorry for Theo. He’d been the victim of a cruel trick, too.
“You can have the chest of drawers. I don’t even want my money. Keep it.” He patted his hand on the top of the unit, almost as if it were a naughty kid.
“I can’t tell a lie.” The woman raised her eyebrows, her gaze piercing first Theo then Joanie. “You can return them. You can even burn them to ashes, but you can’t reverse the magic. Whatever the magic has brought to your lives, you must swim with the current until it’s done.”
Chapter Six
Wait. What? Joanie glanced at Theo to make sure she hadn’t imagined what gypsy woman had said. A frown marred his clear, firm forehead.
“I don’t understand.” Joanie’s voice came out like a raspy whisper.
“You don’t need to understand. What’s to be understood? The bureau magic seeks to give you your deepest longings.”
“That did happen for an instant. Then it did more than that.” She dared not glance at Theo again.
“How can a piece of furniture bring magic into our lives?” He seemed way too relaxed for her liking. Why didn’t he fight the lady harder?
Joanie moved closer. “Listen, lady—”
“It’s Petronella, dear.”
“Um, Petronella,” she said with as much politeness as she could muster. “I don’t have any need for the magic anymore. Is there nothing you can do to reverse it?”
She shook her head and bent to write something on a paper on the counter.
“Don’t you have any magical abilities? You seem like a palm reader or something mystical.” Joanie bit her lip, hoping Petronella would find a measure of compassion deep in her heart.
“I wish I did have some powers. My profits would be much higher. Enough for me to retire once and for all.”
Theo crossed his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you use the magic, then?”
Yeah, why didn’t she? Does Petronella know something she’s not sharing?
The woman continued scribbling. “I wish I could have used it. The circumstances have to be right for it to work.”
Sweat crawled down her back. Every extremity itched—her symptoms of extreme irritation, and if the woman wasn’t straight with her soon, her temper would flare and something rude would spout out. Joanie gritted her teeth. “Explain.”
The shopkeeper shrugged. “There’s nothing to explain. I can only give you the papers from the previous owners. You choose what to think about them. I don’t often source magical furniture. You are very privileged buyers and shouldn’t take the units for granted. I could have raised the price because of the magic, yet I chose not to.”
“Can’t you sell them to someone else?” Joanie placed her hand on Petronella’s paper to stop her from writing any more. Her pen nib nicked Joanie’s finger. What was the woman writing down so furiously, anyway?
Sighing, Petronella straightened and faced them. “If I must, but the magic has already been used. There is no way to reverse it. The units belong to those who will truly appreciate their value in the end.”
“Appreciate them?” Joanie rose on her tiptoes and pushed her nose close to Petronolla’s. “No one appreciates something playing with your life and your future.”
The shop lady smiled for the first time that day. “Your future is in your hands as much as you wish.”
Joanie swung onto her heels and almost toppled, but Theo placed a hand on the small of her back to steady her. She ignored the warm sensation flooding her.
“So, the magic doesn’t have to destroy my life? I can control my future?”
Petronella opened a drawer below the counter, which also appeared to be an antique in desperate need of restoration.
“Here’s the paper from the previous owner. I refuse to interpret it from my own perspective. I’m sorry I forgot to give it to you when you bought the bureau. You, too.” She pointed at Theo. “I only have one copy, so take care of it.”
“I’ll make a copy for you.” Snatching the yellowed paper, Joanie tucked it into her handbag, glancing at Theo who had an odd, almost triumphant expression on his face. Could he be in on Petronella’s game? Is he really some weird stalker who arranged the whole thing to get me into bed? She narrowed her eyes. And why does he have an amused smile on his face?
“I think we should keep the furniture.” He glanced at her, his grin broadening. “What do you say, Joanie?”
“Well, I’m not
in severe debt from my fancy sports car, so I have no issue parting with my money and can hand them over. Filing for a divorce will cost about the same, anyway.”
“The car’s paid off, by the way.” Theo smirked. “I told you I regretted buying it. I didn’t say I still owed money on it.”
“Well, it’s none of my business.” She swallowed a lump of embarrassment.
“If returning the chest of drawers does nothing to the magic, then I’m keeping it.” At that, he lifted it with ease and took it to her car, having kept the keys in his hand.
Petronella returned to scribbling on the paper. Joanie peered over the counter at her scrawl. Some poem. Ugh! What type of poems does this weird lady write? About black cats and spells?
She shook her head, deciding a different approach might fare better. She touched her free hand to draw her attention. “I’m sorry if I was rude. This whole thing has knocked me. I awoke this morning married to that man who I know nothing about. Wouldn’t you feel rather put out by that?”
Petronella glanced up, her expression softening. “Sounds hectic. I’m glad I didn’t use the magic myself. Never know what might have happened. Sometimes we have longings inside of us that are hidden so far down we’re not even aware of them.” She patted Joanie’s arm. “If you can’t find a way through your predicament, you could visit the previous owners. They each have their own story to tell and seem very happy with what the magic did for them. I’ll give you their number.”
She took out a tablet and tapped the screen. Joanie gaped at how adept the woman seemed with the technology. She had misjudged her—seen her as someone old-fashioned, living in another era.
Working in an antique store doesn’t make you outdated, it seems. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. Yes, Aunt Edna, I know. I do tend to misjudge people by first impressions. I’m trying to change.
The woman copied a number from the screen onto a paper and handed it to Joanie. She tucked the number in her handbag.
Theo came into the shop and waved at the bureau. “Are you keeping it?”
“I suppose so. I can put my computer on it and use it for my writing. It is rather quaint. Helps me think I’m Jane Austen or Emily Brontë, writing away at classics.”
Her Real-Life Hero Page 4
