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your class. You were right; I am a lousy

speller."

A trait I am very grateful for. "What type of a story are you doing?" He crossed

his hands behind his head, leaning back against the pillows.

"It's an investigative piece." She told him about Xavier LaLeche and poor Mrs.

Haverhill.

"The Patriot Sun sent you on a story like this?"

She squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, not exactly. I'm sort of doing this on my

own."

"Really. Are you an investigative reporter?"

"Um, sort of…"

"Sort of?"

"This is my first investigative piece, but I know—"

"I've heard that type of work can be dangerous."

"That's what Mills said, but I think she's overreacting."

"Who's Mills?"

"My best friend. The trouble is, my editor, Hank, only gives me fluff to cover.

I want, need to do something… more. I'm determined to do this story—not just for

the paper. I knew Mrs. Haverhill. She was a nice old woman who didn't deserve to

be conned like that."

"Why not complain to the head honcho about your assignments?"

"Hank is the head honcho. Believe me, he would never send me out on anything

that was even remotely hazardous."

Good for Hank, Tyber thought. Although he was curious why. "Why not?"

"Because he's my grandfather," she mumbled into her chest. Tyber grinned above

her bent head, quickly losing it when she looked up at him.

"Gee, that's a tough break, Zanita."

"Yeah. That's why I don't want him knowing anything about this."

Here was trouble waiting to happen, he thought. Xavier LaLeche—there was a phony

name if he'd ever heard one. Who knew what she'd uncover? Put money, greed, and

a shady con man together and the situation could get very dangerous. And with

her penchant for getting into situations…

He rubbed his chin. "You know, Zanita, I find this fascinating."

"You do?"

"Yes. There is a definite parallel here. I can understand your desire to do this

type of investigative writing. In a way it's similar to what I do."

"It is? How?"

"I consider my research to be a series of investigations." He snapped his

fingers as if something important had just occurred to him. "I bet I could help

you with this story."

She sat straight up, very interested. "Really?" She thought about it a minute.

"I bet you could! It wouldn't take you long to get the jump on him, you knowing

all that scientific stuff. Why, you'd be able to spot the fraud in a minute!"

"Well, maybe not that fast—but I probably could figure out his M.O. for you."

"This is great! I'm really excited! Will you help me, Tyber?"

There was no way in hell he was letting her go off by herself into what was sure

to be trouble. "Yes, I think I will."

"Terrific! The first thing we ought to do is—You have some fudge on the corner

of your mouth."

Tyber snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her to him. "Lick it off for me,

baby."

Zanita hesitated for a fraction of a second, still surprised by Tyber's

outrageously sensual nature. "Mmm, it tastes better on you."

"Did you know Newton said you cannot touch without being touched?" His quick

tongue flicked the little indentation above her upper lip.

"I know someone who's 'touched'."

"I'll ignore that because I understand your reluctance to learn physics. Newton

also said that if I do this…" He bent his head, capturing her nipple right

through the cotton material of her shirt…. "I should expect this." His fingers

brushed against her opposite nipple which was now equally hard.

She sucked in her breath. "Newton said that, did he?"

"Mmm-hmm. He's very popular with the students." Tyber gently laid her on the

bed, his hands going to the snaps on her shorts. "Want to know what else he

said?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

His lips brushed enticingly against her stomach as he pulled off her shorts.

Then he began dropping tiny kisses up her chest as he unbuttoned her shirt.

"In the absence of force, an object in motion will tend to stay in motion. What

do you think about that?" He tossed her shirt away and unzipped his pants.

"I can hardly wait," she said breathlessly.

Tyber cradled Zanita against his chest, thinking that if he truly were the

pirate Blooey thought him, he would lock her in his cabin and never let her go.

He nuzzled his chin against the springy curls on the top of her head.

Figuratively speaking, he had no intentions of letting her go. So, she thought

she was giving up men, did she? Well, one could always reacquire the taste. For

one man. The right man.

He would see to it personally.

Since he wasn't a pirate captain, his options weren't as clear cut. Although

tying her to his bed was appealing, he would just have to come up with a better

plan….

Chapter Five

« ^ »

Seven pairs of bulging fish eyes were staring at her.

Zanita blinked, then stared back, dumbfounded.

An aquarium. She was lying on her side facing a tank. Odd how the little guys

were lined up in a horizontal row, just watching her….

Who would put an aquarium of nosy fish next to a bed?

Tyber.

Zanita came fully awake. It all rushed back to her: the pool party that wasn't a

pool party, the elaborate dinner that ended up with take-out, the uninhibited

seduction followed by a night of monster movies, cookie-dough ice cream, and

wild, passionate lovemaking. All interspersed with physics lessons.

She knew of only one man who was capable of providing such an… unusual evening,

and he was currently tightly wrapped around her, sound asleep.

His face was burrowed into her nape.

Gentle, even breaths pulsed against the hairline at the side of her neck. His

arms clasped firmly around her middle; one long, muscular leg was thrown over

hers. If Zanita had been more fanciful in her thinking, by the way he was

holding her she would have suspected that the man was ensuring she would have to

be there to greet him in the morning.

Not that she would have skulked out in the middle of the night.

Well… perhaps she might have, if she had awoken.

As it was, she had slept soundly—and very comfortably with him cozily warm right

next to her—throughout the night. Not that she had a choice. Tyber had

deliciously worn her out.

Where did he get his energy?

She winced, making a mental note not to ask him that question. Zanita could just

imagine the show-and-tell he would require

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