Her Real-Life Hero

by Vicki Ballante

  He batted his eyelids at her. “To gaze into my gorgeous green eyes?”

  Joanie laughed. She pushed him on the arm. “Stop being so silly. I want to hear what you’ve found out. I’m itching to know why Mr. Schroeder, the man of love, never ended up with the love of his life.”

  He pulled out a wad of papers from his pocket. How he’d fitted them in, she had no idea. Seemed like Theo loved keeping things in his pockets.

  Unfolding the sheets, he laid them flat on the table. They were photocopied from a book. “I found these in the Musgrave library. My boss sent me there this morning for a work assignment, and I asked the librarian to search for Martinus Schroeder. Since the main library in the central Durban area didn’t have any info, I didn’t expect so much to be found in a small suburb library.”

  They’d been at it for almost a week. Phew, how the time had flown by.

  An ache formed in her throat, and she squeezed her neck with her hand. Did this mean their assignment had drawn to a close? Maggie had left to go back to school for the beginning of the term prep. Somehow being alone didn’t have the same appeal it did before.

  Not that Theo had lived with her, but they’d spent every evening together until late. She’d resisted making love to him several times. If they hadn’t found more and more interesting information about Schroeder to distract her, she would have seduced him already.

  “What is it?” She studied the paper. It appeared to be an essay written in old English. “Who wrote it?”

  “Henry, Mr. Schroeder’s faithful employee of twenty years.”

  “Didn’t even know he had an employee.”

  “Henry did most of the carpentry and metalwork in his furniture business while Mr. Schroeder performed the finishing touches then sold and delivered to customers. Henry often accompanied him when he delivered furniture. The man was well aware of Mr. Schroeder’s obsession with matchmaking.”

  “Where did you find this out about Henry?”

  Theo pointed at the paper as a waiter arrived to take their orders. Joanie read the essay, each word a tasty morsel. She couldn’t believe what he’d found. Theo ordered something for her, and she didn’t bother to check what. He knew what drinks she liked, and she trusted him. Besides, the paper kept her riveted.

  “Please, may I take the essay to work? I’m not going to finish before my lunchtime’s over.”

  “Sure. I’ve read it about five times already.”

  “Will you fetch it later tonight from my place?”

  Theo nodded, his gaze serious. “Are you sure?”

  “I…. We have to write the article, don’t we?”

  “Oh right. I forgot.” He looked as relieved as she felt.

  They downed their coffee, and Joanie rushed off to work, the paper tucked into her handbag. Once at her desk, she hurried through her tasks until the end of the day, unable to find a single free time to read the paper. Pleased her boss stayed to work late, she sat down for a few quiet minutes once the others had left.

  Henry had insight into his employer—information they had longed to get their hands on. Joanie read through the three pages like a hungry person. Tears flooded her eyes at the end until the last sentence which stopped her cold. Tingles crept from her fingers and toes to her limbs, sending a shiver right through her.

  I have to tell Theo Martinus wasn’t the ghost in the furniture but Henry.

  As she travelled home, her mind spun with what she’d read about Henry and more specifically Jane. Henry’s love for his master had been as a son to his father. He’d adored the man and had often taken part in the matchmaking games his master played. In fact, Martinus had been the planner and Henry the one who’d implemented the plans. Using the knowledge gained from working with his master many years, he had set out to bring Jane and Martinus together. His strategy had failed. Henry had shackled his heart forever to the furniture. He’d made a vow his spirit would never rest until he brought them together.

  Wasn’t that what his last words in the writing meant? I shall forever be bonded to your quest to bring Jane and you together, dear master. Somehow, he’d projected that on anyone who bought the furniture. He’d failed his master, so he couldn’t fail anyone else. That’s what made him so pushy.

  Why had Jane refused Martinus’s proposal?

  An image of the setting Henry had prepared for the proposal remained imprinted on her mind’s eye. Even though their experiences occurred in the nineteenth century, she could see herself right there. She could feel herself as Jane.

  Her body trembled from head to toe by the time she arrived home. Once inside, she ran to the bureau and set out the copies from the library on it. She brought out her quill and some recycled paper then penned a letter to Jane.

  Dearest Jane,

  I believe you and I share many similarities. Yes, I know you live in an era very different from mine where the modern woman doesn’t exist—an age when women weren’t allowed to express their views openly or even fend for themselves in many ways. Yet, you loved your independence like me. You craved those times to yourself, moments to think and ponder life. Because you grew up in a large family and your parents died young, you were left with the task of tending to your family’s needs for many years.

  Jane, you rejected the man who loved you. Did you love him, too? If so, why did you choose to spend the last of your years alone? Maybe you didn’t love him enough to sacrifice your peace for him.

  I wonder because I’m at the same crossroads you stood at. I think I do love the man who I believe, or rather hope loves me. I’m still young. I have many years to find the right man. But what if I never find someone like Theo? Someone who fills me with happiness every day I spend with him, someone whose vision before me is better than the most beautiful sunset, and the sound of his voice more soul stirring than the melody of the sweetest music?

  But I have no guarantee of forever. No promise our love will last or even if the love is shared. I know he wants to be with me, yet I’m not sure of the depth of his love. I don’t think I’m willing to sacrifice my last few years of peace for an “I don’t know.”

  Sincerely,

  Joanie

  At the very second she set her quill back into the hole on its stand, Theo knocked on the door. She ran to him, holding the papers, warring with the excitement to see him and the need to finish pondering everything in her mind.

  “I’ve come to the strangest conclusion,” she said before even greeting him.

  He smiled. “What’s that?”

  “The ghost in the furniture…it’s not Martinus. It’s Henry.”

  Theo’s eyes widened. “How did you come to that?” He sat down on the three seater in the living room, and Joanie sat at the end, next to his feet. She unlaced his work shoes and, placing them on the floor, pulled off his socks one at a time. This had become their ritual when he came to her home straight from work. Then she proceeded to massage his toes and under his feet. The smell of sweaty feet somehow didn’t repulse her. Even the small contact they enjoyed each night sent crazy thrills through her and drove her mind to places she didn’t want it to go.

  “I’ve read a bit on ghosts. I never used to believe in them, but, well, the magic has convinced me. They say a ghost often ‘haunts’ if it didn’t achieve something very important in its life and feels a need to find answers or to redeem something. Henry was deeply disappointed he couldn’t bring his master and Jane together. In fact, it troubled him so much he has remained ever searching for that elusive match.”

  Theo frowned. “You have the imagination of a true writer, sweetie, but really, we have no proof—”

  “It could be Martinus, but I don’t think so. Martinus matched people until he died. He never lost his passion for life, or so it seems. Remember the couple we read about a year before he passed away? He’d matched them with such enthusiasm. He was never pushy and never manipulated people like moving their belongings around. Not like Henry.”

  Theo nodded and touched her arm wi
th his toes. “You have a point there. So, you think Henry was more troubled about his master’s fate than him?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It’s just a hunch. The whole ghost thing probably doesn’t even exist.”

  “Shall we write our article, then?”

  Joanie shrugged. If they started the article, he would leave soon after, and she didn’t want that anymore. She still hadn’t arranged for a court date to set the date for their divorce—she’d been too busy solving the mystery.

  “I feel like there are still some puzzle pieces missing.” She twiddled with his big toe between her fingers, and he jerked away, a twinkle in his eyes. Today, the superficial contact didn’t cut it. He oozed sexuality through his simple work shirt and chinos. I want his body. Starting with a good juicy kiss…. She leaned forward, climbed up his legs toward him, and grabbed his collar.

  “Well, let’s stop for supper. I don’t know what else to find out.” Theo moved her off him, setting her onto a couch cushion.

  Emptiness hit her hard like a frigid breeze on her face, and she attempted to keep him there by continuing the conversation. “What about Jane? Why did she reject Martinus’s proposal? Henry didn’t say.”

  “I’m hungry. Coffee for lunch didn’t do much after a busy afternoon.”

  Sighing, she rose. Cooking wasn’t her favorite pastime, but if they needed strength to continue their search, she would have to comply. At least Theo sat with her in the kitchen while she worked. She had to admit, she ate better with him around. Living alone, she’d survived on frozen dinners most nights. Home-cooked food always tasted better.

  Once immersed in her task, Joanie’s longing for Theo’s touch eased while they chatted about their days. She relished the fact he seemed to take an interest in her boring details. Since Aunt Edna died, she’d missed the joy of an attentive listener. Living alone didn’t seem as glamorous anymore.

  With the mince bubbling away in the pot and the potatoes boiling into mush, she sat opposite him with a smile, resisting the temptation to grasp his hand. He’d made them rooibos tea, which she sipped while he spoke. She resisted touching his foot under the table. He didn’t seem to want her tonight, and her inner tiger hadn’t come out to play yet. Somehow, she hadn’t gotten over his quick move out a few weeks ago. She still treaded carefully on the physical contact side of their relationship. Did he think she used him sexually and discarded him afterward? What hope did they have, then?

  “Do you feel an affinity to Jane?”

  Her mouth dropped open at his change of subject from work to their research. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Um…a bit, I have to admit.”

  “Henry said she cared for her younger siblings for years, and Martinus waited until she lived on her own to propose to her.”

  “Maybe he should have waited a little longer. Given her a taste of being alone first.”

  He shook his head. “Once a spinster, always a spinster—a common attitude in those days.”

  “True love is stronger.”

  “Is it?” He quirked an eyebrow—the first confrontation they’d had the whole week. Couldn’t they go back to the fun, teamwork, and easy camaraderie?

  “I believe it can be. I don’t want to be a spinster, if that’s what you think.” Her voice rose to a high pitch. “I only wanted five years.”

  Theo drank his tea. “I’m not judging you. I’m investigating Jane.”

  But he’s comparing me to Jane. “I wish I knew what made her say no. How old was she when Martinus proposed to her?”

  “She died three years after he proposed to her.”

  Joanie’s tea stuck in her throat, and she coughed to loosen it. Did she die of a broken heart?

  Theo stood. “You okay?”

  “Just…choking on some tea.” Her coughs subsided. “What did she die of? You researched her yesterday. You never told me the results.”

  “I’ll e-mail you the link. It’s vague, but maybe you can figure out what they’re saying.”

  “Okay.” She went to the stove to mash the potatoes. She poured the mince into an oven dish and layered the potato on top, wishing to process the idea of Jane’s early death away from his scrutiny. “Shepherd’s pie. My sisters loved it when I made it.”

  She ran a fork to form rows in the potato. His hands on her shoulders made her almost drop the fork. Tears came to her eyes. At long last—some contact. Some reassurance he still had feelings for her.

  She rubbed her head like a cat against his hands and turned to him. “I missed that.”

  “Missed what?” His eyes were haunted with…. Betrayal? Lust?

  “Your touch.”

  He moved toward her, so she closed her eyes, sighing with delight. He didn’t just kiss her, he wrapped his strong arms around her. Heat and comfort rippled through her in one go—a potent combination. The attraction between them had charged up several notches for some reason. Not like there hadn’t been sizzle before. Her pussy tightened, and she plunged her tongue into his mouth, tasting the glorious, sweet, spicy flavor of Theo. The kiss deepened, took her to feverish heights. She thought she might orgasm from their contact.

  He pulled away. “You’d better tend to the food.” His gruff voice washed over her like a bucket of ice water.

  He stepped back with what seemed like great effort. Did he not feel free to give himself fully to her? That thought only served to heighten her desire to ravish him.

  “The food can wait. Come.” She pulled on his arm, not even checking whether he agreed or not. He allowed her to lead him…to her bedroom.

  “Joanie, no.” He withdrew.

  Something in her screamed he didn’t want her, but her body didn’t care. Her heart broke, yet her rebel pussy hummed. The sexy haze in his eyes told her he wanted her physically, that was all. Well, she may not have done casual in the past, but, at present, with Theo, it was what she needed.

  Leaving the door open, she took off her blouse and skirt and lay in her lingerie on the bed, summoning him with a hand gesture. Amazing how her confidence had grown with Theo. Being naked in front of him didn’t send showers of heat and fear through her. Calling the shots happened naturally between them. They both liked to do it.

  He undressed and came to the bed, his gaze averted from her face to her barely clad body, saying nothing. She wished to hear words of awe from him, words to say he found her beautiful. He seemed almost unfeeling, like a robot, until he touched the sensitive skin around her bellybutton with trembling hands. There was passion in his touch. Theo’s heat came through in gentleness which shot need straight to her core. The simple touch aroused him, too, evidenced by the sudden growth of his cock which rose high toward his tummy, swollen and rock hard. She reached for it and tugged. The skin around his shaft was soft, hot, and throbbing. She swallowed. Touching him no longer shocked her, it warmed her. More than that—it combusted her. Theo oozed male—he drew every bit of sexual need out of her.

  Ducking his head, he sank his tongue into her navel, making her squeal.

  “Ticklish!” I should reciprocate somehow, but how? She sat and put her mouth on the tip of his cock.

  He pushed her away. “Let me pleasure you first.”

  “Okay.” The man was the epitome of unselfish.

  He pressed against her panties, on her clit, and she lay back, allowing him to play, relieved to see a satisfied smile on his face. He unclipped her bra and stroked her breasts then dipped his head and sucked. She kissed his head, taking in a whiff of his shampoo. Maybe tonight would be her last chance to smell him, feel him on her. They’d almost solved the mystery. Well, they’d come a long way. What if the answer lay around the corner? Then there would be no reason to meet again.

  He didn’t seem to notice her sudden distress and the tension blocking her mind from the experience. He continued to tease her nipples with his tongue and plunged his finger into pussy. She shivered with the sharpness of it. His hands on her seemed mechanical, meaningless, and the desire
to have sex vanished. Whoa! What’s going on?

  She fumbled to get up. “Maybe I should….”

  He pushed her down and engulfed her mouth with a kiss. Something flooded her from the kiss—a passion, whether lust or love, held her there and sent delight through her core again, making sweet liquid gush out of her pussy. After fitting a condom, he climbed on top of her and eased into her. He played ever so gently as if it were still her first time. Kissing his neck, she drank in his familiar musky scent.

  The tension syphoned out of her. Instead, she groaned, kissing him furiously, a ravenous need to become one with him taking over. Tongue against tongue, slippery like sweet oil, he was her Theo, the man she loved who made passionate love to her. Every touch, every taste, every movement felt like love, not just sex. Fire raged through her, wild and encompassing. Heat flushed her body, which changed from cold as ice to volcanic.

  Too fast, she reached the brink and lost it. Waves of spasms shuddered through her, grasping her, taking possession of her. He pumped into her, and she took the friction of his cock with equal thrusts of her pelvis, his strong and fervent strokes causing her to enter another realm, a realm of Theo, their bodies in a galaxy far away.

  “Oh, Theo.” I love you. She gazed at him. His eyes reflected her image.

  He must have come because he moved off her too fast, cleaned, and dressed. He doesn’t love me. Her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. If he did, he’d stay with me, lie next to me, and talk a bit. We’d cuddle, sink into one another, and soak in each other’s essence. Like the night we slept in Maggie’s room.

  She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he left the room because she’d closed her eyes. Is this how Martinus Schroeder felt? She was supposed to be like Jane, yes, she was, but at present identified with Martinus.

  She opened her eyes. Since when had she been a needy woman, dependent on a man for her happiness? No, the mystery still needed to be solved. Publishing the article would help with her writing, too. Her breakthrough had come.

  She rose to clean herself in her bathroom and spritzed herself with perfume to freshen. When she went to the kitchen, Theo had served their supper and begun to eat.