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In triplicate.

She glared up at him. "Excuse me, I must have missed something. When did we leap

back two centuries?" Tyber looked up at the ceiling as if he were seriously

thinking about her question.

"Can't do that. At least according to Einstein. However, a wormhole—"

"Stop that doublespeak right now! You didn't even give me a chance to answer

you!"

Tyber shrugged. "It was not a question."

"Tyber!"

He grinned down at her. "Technically speaking," he amended to sooth her ruffled

feathers.

She threw him a pointed look and sat up. It appeared that she was in the middle

of another one of Tyber's flights of fancy. Three walls were floor-to-ceiling

aquariums. The fourth wall contained two doors which presumably led to a

bathroom and dressing room.

"I'll admit the aquariums are relaxing, but an oyster shell bed?" Her eyes

traveled above her, where the top half of the open shell loomed over her head.

There were recessed colored lights embedded in it.

Tyber picked up a control box on a driftwood table beside the bed. He pressed a

button and the lights dimmed romantically.

"What if you want to read in bed?" she asked sarcastically, still miffed at his

overbearing behavior. Men! Boil them in oil! He pressed another button, and two

bright reading lights came on, spotlighting her. "Now I feel like the Little

Mermaid."

He snapped the reading lights off, leaving the soft pastel lights on. "You do

look like a little pearl in there." She stuck her tongue out at him. He wagged

his finger at her. "Obviously not a cultured pearl."

"People who live in glass aquariums shouldn't throw insults. You have a

television in your bedroom. Talk about cultured…"

"Which reminds me, we missed The Curse Of The Mummy's Finger. I wonder how we

could have forgotten?" He gave her a very male look.

"I wonder." She couldn't help it; her mouth curved in response. He was such an

incredibly sexy man. And very sweet.

Despite his godawful arrogance.

To be fair, she supposed that just being Tyberius Augustus Evans came with an

arrogance factor. There was no one quite like him. The world knew it. And he

probably knew it. She really did want to stay with him a little longer. So what

could one night hurt?

Tyber sat on the edge of the bed. "Does that alluring little smile mean you are

going to spend the night with me?"

"Is that a question?" He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Yes, Zanita mine, that is a question. Please stay; I want you to. How's that

for humility?"

"I don't know. Somehow the Uriah Heap routine doesn't suit you. And, yes; I'll

stay, but just for this one night. I've given up men."

Tyber raised an eyebrow. "You mean as in, I've given up red meat?"

"Something like that."

"Dare I enquire why?" She tugged her hand away.

"No, you may not."

"I see. So tonight you're going off the wagon, so to speak? I don't know that I

like being compared to a behavioral slump." He walked his fingers up her arm.

"Be serious, Tyber. There's no insult intended. Consider it more like an…

aberration."

"An aberration." He stared at her stonily.

"You're not upset, are you?"

"Of course not. I've always aspired to be someone's aberration. Now I'm yours.

My life is complete." He flopped down sideways across the bed.

"Don't take it personally."

"So now I'm not even an individual aberration? I'm not even special, am I? I'm

just an average run-of-the-mill aberration." He rolled toward her, grabbing both

her hands in one of his. Her eyes widened.

"What are you going to do?" He loomed over her.

"I'm going to demonstrate something to you. This"—pushing up her shirt, he ran

his fingers lightly across her belly— "is an ordinary aberration. While this"—he

suddenly began ticking her midriff mercilessly—"is a special aberration." She

began giggling mindlessly. "Now, would you care to rephrase your assessment of

me?"

"Stop, Tyber, please!" He lifted his hand to let it hover menacingly a few

inches above her belly button.

"I'm waiting." He flexed his fingers threateningly.

"Okay, you are a special aberration. There, satisfied?"

His lips brushed her stomach. "Not yet," he said against her skin. "But it's a

start." Her hands were released as he sat back up on the bed.

"Do you know what's on TV even as we speak?" He had the expression of a man who

had a bag full of diamonds behind him.

"No, what?" She asked eagerly, sitting up also.

"Invasion of the Prehistoric Space Vampires." He raised and lowered his brows

several times.

"No!" Zanita gasped. Tyber nodded with a glint in his eye. "My favorite movie!"

He retrieved the remote on the nightstand, snapping on the tube. A vampire in a

silver spacesuit was chasing a caveman across the San Fernando Valley. "It just

started. Stay right where you are; I'll be right back with something decadently

rich. Let me know what I missed."

Zanita leaned back against the pillows, already absorbed in the movie, while

Tyber headed off to ransack the kitchen.

He returned a few minutes later, holding a large serving tray. His bare foot

pushed the door open, then closed it behind him. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing too much—the head vampire spaceman just spotted the cavegirl taking a

bath by the stream and saved her from getting eaten by the sabre-toothed poodle.

What is all that?" Tyber placed the tray on the nightstand and hopped on the bed

beside her.

"This is Blooey's famous Toll House Pie." He handed her an enormous piece

smothered in ice cream with a glass of milk.

"Is this cookie-dough ice cream?" He nodded. "This is sinful." She tasted a

piece of the pie. "Oh, God, Tyber, this is better than sex."

The fork stopped halfway to his mouth. "Watch it. You've already given me one

complex tonight."

She licked some fudge off the corner of her fork. "I didn't mean sex with you,

of course."

"I hope that's not the chocolate speaking."

"No, really, sex with you is much more delicious," she said impishly.

He turned to look at her, suddenly gone serious. "Zanita, do you—"

"Shh! The movie's coming back on."

They watched the movie companionably, making humorous comments about the

implausible script and horrid acting. When the psychic shaman of the cavemen

came on, they both started laughing.

During the commercial, Tyber turned to her. "That shaman reminds me—didn't you

say you were doing a story about psychic healers?"

"Uh-huh. That's how I ended up in

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