by Kris Tualla
“It is quite a lot, indeed.” Sveyn seemed to relax a little.
Hollis scowled at him. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
Sveyn drew a deep breath. “I was so surprised to see that you were a woman, I did not think of anything else.”
“Yeah, but you got over that,” she pointed out. “Why didn’t you say anything then?”
“You were so certain of your ancestry I did not want to confuse you.” The Viking looked sincerely apologetic. “Until I came back to my body, I believed I would leave you some day and it would not matter.”
Hollis retrieved the cool towel and pressed it against her aching eyes again. “I don’t even…”
What?
Know what to do now.
“And when I came back to my body, I did decide to tell you.”
Hollis lowered the towel and glared at him.
He huffed a laugh. “It has only been eleven days. I was waiting for the right time.”
She made a wry face. “I’ll have to give you that one.”
Sveyn climbed to his feet and sat beside her on the couch. He looped one arm around her shoulders and gently pulled her close. Without thinking about it, Hollis curled on her side and rested her head on his lap.
“What will you say to your parents?” he asked as he rubbed her neck and shoulder. His hand was large and strong and warm.
That was today’s million dollar question. “I don’t know.”
“You are going to visit them after George and Stevie’s wedding, are you not?”
“Oh, crap!” She turned her head to look up at him. “I only have one plane ticket!”
Confusion followed quickly by realization played over Sveyn’s handsome face. “I did not require a ticket before.”
“But now you do.” Hollis sat up. “I better buy it right now, before I miss the twenty-one-day price!”
“Stay here,” Sveyn said. “I will bring you your laptop.”
Hollis handed him the wine glass. “Would you mind getting me another?”
He looked at her so tenderly that her tears returned. “It is my pleasure, my love.”
Hollis pressed the damp towel to her eyes and let the hot tears flow into it. As shocking as the discovery was, she could not deny its reality: the people she thought were her parents had lied to her.
For all of my life.
And now Sveyn claimed that she was actually a Hansen, descended from a dynasty in Arendal, Norway. Everything about her identity was shaken. She felt like the earth beneath her had crumbled and she didn’t know where to stand anymore.
“Here you are.”
Hollis lowered the towel and looked up at the big man who held her laptop in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
“Thank you.” She reached for the laptop and he set the wineglass on the coffee table.
Sveyn settled beside her and watched while she pulled up her plane reservation, then went to the airline’s website to book a second ticket. “I’m moving us to first class,” she said as she made the changes. “You need the legroom, and I’ll need the comfort.”
“I have one more thing to show you,” Sveyn said when she finished and closed her laptop.
Ugh.
Hollis winced. “What?”
Sveyn took her laptop and carried it to dining table. He returned to her side with a white paper in his hand.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Mine came today,” was all he said.
Hollis unfolded the letter—a twin of the one she received from the hospital, labeling her as the universal blood donor and asking for donations.
She turned to Sveyn, incredulous. “You are O-negative, too?”
“I looked it up on the Google,” he said. “Only eight percent of all people have that blood.”
Hollis snorted. “And all of them are Hansens, no doubt.”
*****
Sveyn was back in Arendal. And Hollis was with him.
They walked along the bluff where Hansen Hall stood, built of solid stone. He was holding her hand until they were out of sight of the house. Then he turned to face her.
His mouth covered hers and his kiss deepened. His hands reached under her cloak sliding effortlessly to the warmth between her thighs.
A jolt of pain in his groin jerked Sveyn awake.
He curled into a ball, agony radiating from his crotch, and wondering if he had been castrated in his sleep.
He must have groaned out loud because Hollis flipped on the light. “Sveyn? What’s wrong?”
“My… my cock…” he grunted.
“Let me see.” Hollis began digging through the sheets and blanket and throwing them aside. “Can you lie on your back?”
Sveyn rolled over, his eyes squeezed shut and his knees still at his chest. His breath came in short gasps. “It feels like I am on fire.”
Hollis put one hand on his chest and the other on his legs. “Can you unfold?”
Sveyn managed to straighten his legs, though the intensity of his pain made him want to yank them back. He groaned again, hating to look so weak in front of Hollis.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“What has happened?” he croaked.
“I’m not sure how to explain it.”
Sveyn opened one squinting eye. “Have I exploded?”
“No, of course not. But…” Her eyes moved from his groin to his face. “Have you had an erection since you got your body back?”
Sveyn’s breath left him in a whoosh. “I—I…” He shook his head, unable to speak.
“Well you have one now.” Hollis’s mouth twitched. “And it’s impressive.”
Sveyn opened both eyes and looked down, terrified of what he would see.
What he saw was a perfectly normal cockstand.
“Why…” he gasped.
“I can’t say why it hurts,” Hollis answered the assumed question. “But you said everything hurt at first.”
Sveyn laid his head back down, wondering if that was all that was happening to him. He was dreaming about making love to Hollis. A sexual dream usually left a man with an erection at the least, and often with actual ejaculation.
“It’s been so long…” he rasped.
“And it’s long now,” Hollis joked. Her voice turned wistful. “Really long.”
Sveyn closed his eyes again and risked touching himself. What his fingers felt seemed normal, though their tips left a searing trail on the engorged organ.
“It’s starting to go down,” Hollis said. “Is the pain less?”
He nodded and concentrated on releasing the tension in his body.
Hollis still sat on her knees beside him. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Do not touch me,” he growled.
“I won’t.” She sounded irritated.
“I was dreaming… about you…” he explained. “And then… this…”
“Ah. I understand.”
Sveyn gradually relaxed and the pain dissipated. He opened his eyes, staring only at the ceiling at first. Hollis gathered the covers back into some semblance of order then leaned over and turned off the light.
She curled up beside him, but said nothing.
“I am sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It took me by surprise, is all.” That—and it hurt like hell.
“I guess it’ll be like everything else and get better over time.”
“God in Heaven, I hope so.”
Hollis huffed a little laugh. After a pause, she said, “We haven’t talked about sex.”
She was right. As he adjusted to all the other issues involved with regaining his body, he had not thought about having physical relations with Hollis as yet. He assumed that when the time came, their situation would progress naturally.
He had not anticipated his body would react this way.
“Sveyn?”
“No, we have not,” he replied.
“I’m fine with waiting.”
/>
He turned his head toward hers. “It seems that we will have to wait a while longer at the least. Until I can adjust to the sensation.”
He felt Hollis nod against his shoulder. “It’s a pretty sensitive area. I can’t imagine what that rush of blood felt like.”
Sveyn snorted. “Be glad that you cannot.”
He reached for her hand under the covers and held it firmly.
“I will tell you this, Hollis. When the day comes that we join together in this world, as we did so many times in my other world, I will worship you with my entire body.”
She kissed his shoulder. “I love you, Sveyn Hansen.”
“And I love you, Hollis.” He sighed his contentment. “You are the fulfillment of my very odd life.”
Chapter Fifteen
Thursday
January 21
Hollis could not avoid tackling the backlog of requests to visit the museum any longer.
“That’s my goal today,” she told Stevie. “To answer every one of them.”
“Are you feeling better, then?” Stevie asked.
Hollis made the decision at about five-thirty that morning that she wouldn’t tell anyone about what she found out about her identity until after she returned from Wisconsin. By then, she would have a full explanation from the McKennas about how she came to live in their home.
“Yeah. It comes and goes.”
Stevie gave her a sympathetic look. “How’s Sveyn doing?”
Hollis felt a little thrill in her belly at the reminder of last night’s disruption and the beauty of Sveyn’s aroused form. That was a good sign—her affection for the man really was transitioning into reality.
“He’s actually doing great. And—he’s already a fiend on the internet so he’s catching up to this century amazingly fast.”
“Really?” Stevie grinned. “Who would have thought?”
Hollis rolled her eyes. “There is so much about Sveyn that I bet not one single person ever thought about.”
“Touché.” The petite registrar sipped her coffee. “Have you heard back from anybody about that painting?”
“Not yet. Hopefully I will soon. Mr. Kunst doesn’t strike me as an overly patient man.” Hollis looked at the calendar on her phone; Stevie and George’s wedding was approaching fast.
She faced her friend. “You’re getting married two weeks from Sunday. Do you need help with anything?”
Stevie’s expression turned thoughtful. “Since we’re getting married on stage at the Glendale Chocolate Affaire, we don’t have to worry about decorations or anything there. And Natalie at Virginia’s House has the reception all taken care of.” Her glance cut to Hollis. “Do you have your dress?”
Hollis saluted. “Yes, ma’am. I went back to the shop and bought the yellow gown I wore at the Jane Austin Regency tea.”
“You look so pretty in that. What about Sveyn?”
Hollis startled. “You want him in costume, too?”
Stevie nodded. “Sure. George will probably want him on stage with you.”
“I guess I’ll take him to the shop, then…” Hollis hadn’t considered that possibility any more than she remembered his airline ticket.
The fallout from Sveyn regaining his body just kept coming.
“Good. And you’ll be at the shower on Sunday?”
Another surprise.
Oh, goody.
“What shower?”
“The one Miranda’s throwing at her place.” Stevie suddenly looked horrified. “Did she forget to invite you?”
“I doubt that, Stevie,” Hollis assured her. “It’s more likely my invitation got lost in the ruckus of the last couple weeks.”
Stevie nodded. “Probably. Anyway, it’s tea at her house at three.”
Hollis considered not asking the next question and claiming ignorance on Sunday, but she knew how excited Stevie was about details.
“Are people wearing costumes?”
Stevie laughed. “No, silly. We’re saving that for the big day.”
Hollis blew a shallow sigh of relief. “I’ll talk to Miranda, then. See if she needs any help.”
“I’m so glad you said something,” Stevie said. “I would have hated for you to miss it!”
“Me, too.’ Hollis refilled her coffee. “I guess I better get on with my scheduling the crazies.” Hollis lifted her cup and turned toward the door. “Wish me luck.”
*****
Sveyn looked at the map on his laptop. The open call for the modeling agency—Robert Ford Unlimited—was at a hotel just four-and-a-half miles away.
Dare he try to walk that far? He felt stronger every day, but his surgery was less than two weeks past. In spite of what he jokingly thought of as his ‘regency’ blood, he was not feeling entirely back to his former self.
“I must learn to drive,” he said out loud. He found the sound of his own voice comforting in the silent apartment and was beginning to understand Hollis’s quirky habit. “For today, I must find another way.”
Unafraid of breaking either his phone or the internet, Sveyn was accustomed to clicking on pictures or words that seemed as if they might answer any question which came to his mind.
When that failed, YouTube was his tutor.
On the map’s display he clicked the figure of a person in the square called directions. An alternate route appeared, and the blue line showed a diagonal path along what looked like a canal.
Now the distance was listed as three and a quarter miles.
Sveyn nodded, satisfied. “I can do that.”
*****
Hollis’s office phone rang. “Hello?”
“Hollis McKenna—is that you?”
Well, no, as it turns out.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Mary Oberman. From Chicago.”
“Mary! Oh my gosh!” Hollis greeted her former colleague warmly. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. And I’m in Milwaukee now.”
“There’s got to be a story there,” Hollis said.
“There is. But that’s not why I’m calling.” Mary’s voice held an amused and mysterious tone. “You filed an enquiry regarding a missing painting by Benjamin Meyer.”
“I did. But why are you calling?”
“Because the family who listed the painting as ‘lost’ lives in Tomah, and my current employer, the Milwaukee Museum of History, is their agent for its recovery.”
“How fun is that?” Hollis grinned. “And weird.”
Mary hesitated. “Why weird?”
“Not weird, exactly. But my grandmother lives in Sparta, the next town over.”
At least, the woman I thought was my grandmother does.
More damned fallout in her life, but for an entirely different reason. Hollis shrugged though Mary couldn’t see it. “So close to home, you know?”
“Yeah. Because you’re in Arizona now?”
Hollis chuckled. “There’s a story there as well.”
“Maybe we can get together sometime and catch up.”
“Actually, I’m coming to Milwaukee on February ninth. Staying a week.” The next logical thought occurred. “I can bring the painting with me.”
“Hollis, that would be fantastic!”
She could hear the smile in Mary’s voice and hated to dampen the moment, but dampen it she must. “I have to tell you, though, there’s another claim of ownership.”
“Really?” Mary’s tone darkened. “From whom?”
Hollis gave her colleague a brief outline of Gerhardt’s story.
She ended her account with, “But I don’t know if your people know about the inscription on the back, so—”
“So don’t tell them,” Mary finished the sentence. “I totally get it. This is going to be a bit sticky.”
“Yep.” What will I tell Gerhardt? “We’ll hear them out first, and then decide what to do next.”
“Good call. Oh, Hollis—I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Me, too. It’ll be fun
catching up.” And a nice distraction from the catching up she’d be doing with the McKennas. She gave Mary her email address. “Email me and I’ll keep you in the loop.”
*****
In spite of the cool day, Sveyn was a little sweaty when he reached the hotel. He ducked into the men’s room to wash his face and comb his hands through his hair.
He considered his reflection in the mirror. A day’s worth of beard sprouted on his jaw, but Hollis said that was preferred at times.
“Take me as I am,” he murmured. “Or do not take me at all.”
He left the restroom and followed signs to the room where the open call was being held. Inside the door was a long table with sheets of lined paper clipped to boards.
“Fill this out and go sit over there until you’re called,” a woman said without looking up. She pointed at rows of sparsely occupied chairs.
Sveyn gripped the pen and forced his hands to draw out the letters in his name. They were uneven and odd, but they were readable. He walked toward the chairs before she noticed his scrawl and asked him any questions.
Sveyn sat in the back row and mentally evaluated the two-dozen other people already in the room. The variety in their looks surprised him, though when he considered the advertisements he saw on the television, a variety of looks was clearly required.
At the front of the room was another long table with a man and a woman, both very well-dressed, sitting behind it. They spoke earnestly to a young woman who sat facing them. Sveyn thought she was attractive enough, but she was crying.
“I’m sorry,” the man said kindly. “Not at this time.”
The woman gathered her purse, phone, sunglasses, and papers before she stood and hurried out of the room.
The woman by the door called out a name. A young man in the front row rose to his feet and approached the table.
Sveyn stretched out his legs and leaned his head against the wall behind him. This was going to be a long afternoon.
*****
There was no point in delaying the call and every reason to catch the German man off-guard. “Hello, may I speak to Gerhardt Kunst, please.”
“This is Gerhardt,” he replied, his words softly accented.