High Energy (19 page)

"We'll see," Tyber responded, placing his hands on her shoulders.

LaLeche walked them to the door, gushing fondly over them. "I'm so glad you both

came. We'll resume the sessions tomorrow around two in the afternoon. See you

then."

As soon as they were in the truck driving to the inn, Tyber issued a

proclamation straight from the quarter deck. "You're not going walking with him

through the woods tomorrow."

Zanita faced him, surprised by his attitude. He seemed so nonchalant in the

cabin when John had suggested it. "What if he has some information for the

article—"

"No."

Zanita sighed. There was that pirate streak again. "Tyber, you can be very

unreasonable when you want to be."

He did a double take. "What does that mean?"

"It means, sometimes you are unreasonably reasonable, and other times you are

reasonably unreasonable, but right now you're unreasonably unreasonable."

Tyber muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "doomed

to disorder" and that he was an "entropic victim."

Moonlight filtered across the bed through the open curtains.

Tyber leaned over Zanita, letting the tip of his finger trace the center line of

little ribbons and bows on her thin cotton nightgown.

He sighed. "What is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"As much as I think this nightgown is pretty and sexy and downright

irresistible, I have to ask myself why you're wearing it."

"Don't be ridiculous." She pushed his hand away.

Tyber raised his eyebrows.

"Something I said?" She remained silent. "Ahh. Something I did."

She turned her face to the window.

He turned it back.

"What did I do, baby?" His open mouth brushed tenderly along her jaw. She

stiffened under him.

"You know very well what you did!"

The corners of his mouth curved slightly. "Why don't you refresh my memory?"

She shoved at his chest, pushing him away from her. "Did you have to smile like

that?"

Tyber peered at her, cautiously bewildered. "I beg your pardon?"

"And well you should!"

"What are you talking about?"

"As if you didn't know!"

Tyber looked up at the ceiling and counted to ten. "Let's start over, okay?"

She stuck her chin in the air. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"No."

Zanita gasped in horror.

"Yes!"

This time she threw her pillow at him.

"I mean…" Tyber put his hands up beseechingly. "I don't know? Dammit, what

answer am I suppose to give here?"

"You're so smart, you figure it out." She gave him her shoulder, turning on the

bed.

He put his hand on her arm, turning her back. "What is the matter with you?"

She glared at him. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"Humor me."

"All right." She sat up, crossing her arms over her chest, unwittingly pushing

her breasts up against the scooped neckline of her nightgown.

Tyber's sights fell to those breasts and remained there a second too long. "I'm

listening."

"I am not talking to the top of your head. This is just what I'm talking about!"

Tyber locked eyes with her. "I'm glad one of us knows what it is."

"That look!"

"What look?"

"The one you just gave my… chest."

His brow furrowed. "You don't like me looking at you?"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

Tyber rubbed his ear. "Does that mean, don't be ridiculous you do like my

looking at you, or don't be ridiculous you don't like me looking at you?"

"Are you being obtuse on purpose?"

Tyber let out a bark of laughter.

Zanita continued unabated. "Because if you are, I don't appreciate it." She

lifted her nose in the air.

He clasped her shoulders. "Baby…" He took a deep breath and bravely forged

ahead. "Do you like me looking at you?"

"Of course I do!"

"Good." Tyber nodded. "Then there's no problem." He bent toward her, ready to

creatively press his mouth against those luscious full lips of hers.

"I—wasn't—talking—about—me." She spaced her words with deadly accuracy.

Tyber froze on the downshift. This had all the earmarks of trouble. He raised

his lashes slowly to look into her eyes. "Something bothering you, baby?"

She narrowed her eyes at him until all he could see was little violet slits. He

released her, flopping onto his back. He knew that look: he was in for it.

Although, he still had no clue—but then again, this was his Zanita.

Tyber decided in a lightning-quick calculation that his best chance of survival

lay in doing nothing. So he patiently waited for her to throw the next volley.

He didn't have to wait long. One small, deadly word rent the air.

"Kim."

His focus shifted from the intricate marble ceiling to Zanita lying beside him.

"What about her?"

"Don't be coy."

"Coy?" He choked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You looked at her." Her lower lip pouted.

Light was beginning to dawn. His blue eyes twinkled with understanding. Tyber

was careful to make his tone a combination of surprise mixed with a light dash

of horror. "I did?"

"Yes! And you smiled at her, as well."

"I didn't!" Tyber tried not to grin as he gasped.

She nodded emphatically. "Your come-hither smile, too."

"Aw, baby, I'm sorry." He put his arms around her. "I didn't realize I was doing

it." That was the truth. He couldn't even remember what Kim looked like.

"You… you didn't?" She gazed up at him earnestly, tugging at his heartstrings.

"Of course not." He brushed her lips with his several times. "Why would I give

anyone else my—what did you call it? My come-hither smile?—when you're the only

one I want to come hither? Or is it thither?"

Relieved, Zanita snuggled against him, putting her arms around his neck. "It

doesn't matter, Doc; it's really not important." Now that she was mollified,

Zanita saw the wisdom in dropping the subject immediately. If not sooner.

Tyber was not so easily sidetracked. His blue eyes glittered down on her,

amusement evident in their crystalline depths. "You know, Zanita, you almost

sound jealous." She stilled in his arms at once.

"Don't be silly."

"One could almost say that you sound like…"—he paused to shudder slightly—"…a

girlfriend." Then he laughed deeply, nibbing his nose teasingly against hers.

"I do not!"

"No?" His open mouth possessively slipped down the column of her throat,

stopping midway to lave a particularly enticing spot. "If it looks like a

girlfriend and acts like a girlfriend…" He sharply bit the rounded curve of her

breast.

"Tyber!" She walloped the back of his head with her pillow.

Unfazed, he nuzzled between her breasts, chuckling low against her heart. "Then

it must be a…"

"Don't you dare even think it."

He raised himself to look down at her. A laugh line curved the side of his cheek

as he lifted one imperious eyebrow. "Have I taught you about resonance yet?"

Zanita groaned. Tyber looked intent on delivering one of his "special" lessons.

As he lowered himself onto her, his seductive whisper echoed provocatively

against the marble walls. "Let me tell you all about pairs and harmony and

synchronous vibration…."

Chapter Nine

« ^ »

"Throw your leg over and climb on. It's not going to bite you, baby."

Zanita eyed the motorcycle warily. "I don't know, Tyber, it doesn't look all

that friendly to me."

"It's not supposed to look friendly—it's a Harley. Now, c'mon—hop on."

"I—I'm not sure. Why don't we take the truck instead of— eee!" Patience at an

end, Tyber had simply reached around with one arm and hauled her up behind him

on the motorcycle. With a brief "hold on tight" thrown over his shoulder, he

gunned the bike and took off down the drive of the mansion to the main road

heading toward the small village the innkeeper had told them about that morning.

"I don't think I like this, Tyber." Zanita buried her head in the broad plane of

his back, her arms clasping his waist in a death grip.

"If you opened your eyes, you might like it better, Curls." Tyber threw her an

amused glance over his shoulder. "C'mon now, you're missing some beautiful

scenery. Look; we're coming up on a pond."

Zanita wasn't sure she actually wanted to see scenery whizzing by her without

the protection of at least a half a ton of metal between her and it, but she

stalwartly opened her eyes to check it out.

They were approaching a small pond on the right side of the road. The glass

surface of the pond reflected the autumn leaves on the surrounding trees. A few

geese drifted by, honking sporadically. It was a picture-perfect New England

fall scene. Zanita marginally relaxed her grip on Tyber.

"It's different on the back of a bike, isn't it?" Tyber yelled back to her.

Zanita eyed his shoulder blades, wondering if he was starting up again.

"Is it?" She tickled his hard stomach with two fingers, feeling his muscles

tense. He didn't respond, but she caught his slow smile in the side mirror. A

flash of white teeth and a dimple.

The scenery proved magnificent as they sped along the winding road under a

canopy of red and gold leaves, the crisp fall air invigorating in the late

morning. Zanita was just beginning to think she might be able to endure riding a

motorcycle every now and then when Tyber began weaving the bike in and out just

to tease her. She walloped him on the head to let him know how much she

appreciated it. His low chuckle reached her on the wind, but he smoothed the

ride out.

The village was a quintessential small New England town. Most of the houses were

white clapboard with black shutters. The center of the village sported a single

street of interesting little shops that probably depended on the ski crowd for

most of their trade. At this time of year, they were blessedly empty of

tourists. Tyber swung the bike into the curb.

"Brunch or browsing?" he asked as he helped her remove her helmet. They had

elected not to eat breakfast that morning in lieu of trying out one of the local

restaurants.

"Browsing sounds good; I can wait until lunch. How about you?" Zanita was

already eagerly eying the shops.

"That's fine—the innkeeper recommended the Hungry Kitten for lunch. That must be

it." He pointed to a small wooden sign shaped like a cat swinging from the

portico of a large-columned house on the corner of the street.

Zanita's voice trailed after her as she headed into the first shop. "Looks

good—hey, look at these!"

Tyber smiled indulgently as he strolled into the shop after her. "Remember, we

have to be back at LaLeche's by two and—those are great!" They both were

entranced by delicate crystal figurines of winged dragons hanging in front of a

display window.

"He's cute." Zanita fingered a little tubby one with a goofy look on its face.

Tyber eyed a swooping dragon that had a very cunning expression. "I rather like

this one."

Zanita viewed his choice, thinking it somehow appropriate for him. All the

dragon was missing was an eye patch and a little sword. "Where would you hang

it?"

"Over the bed." He winked at her.

She wagged her finger at him.

"I know I'm going to regret this, but—" She reached up, unhooking the swooping

dragon from its display.

"For me? Baby, that's awful sweet of you." His arm curled around her shoulders,

giving her a small squeeze. He bent down to kiss the tip of her nose. "Let me

respond in kind." His free arm reached up to retrieve the chubby dragon.

"No, Tyber, please don't," she protested, placing her hand on his arm. "You've

already spent so much money on this weekend—"

He held Tubby up in front of her. "Look at this face; you wouldn't leave him

here all by himself, would you?"

Zanita frowned; Tyber knew exactly which button to push. "Well…"

He turned the dragon to face him. "I told you not to worry, Tubbs," he said,

sotto voce. "Piece of cake."

After they had made their purchases and left the store, Tyber asked her where

she was going to hang her dragon. "In the kitchen window, I think."

"Perfect place—Blooey will love him."

Zanita glanced over at him. She had meant her kitchen window at her apartment,

not his. Perhaps he hadn't realized what he'd just said. After all, she was only

in his home temporarily, until they finished this LaLeche business.

She shrugged her shoulders, deciding to let the remark pass. But later she

thought about it again when he insisted on buying her an antique shawl. It was

an old-fashioned violet crochet with tiny pink rosettes.

"The parlor can get drafty in the winter," he said by way of an explanation,

"even with the fireplace going. For all I've renovated it, the house is still

over a hundred years old. And much as I'd like to, I can't cuddle you all the

time, Curls."

She was not going to let that comment go.

"Tyber." She gritted her teeth. "Let's get one thing straight—you are not my

boy—"

"You don't like it?" He seemed vaguely hurt.

"It's beautiful, but I am not—"

"It's perfect for you; I can picture you wearing it, curled up in the big Queen