"I think I'm dead," she squeaked.

His low laugh carried up to her. Kissing her one last time, he raised himself above her, hugging her tight to him. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, then covered her mouth with his own. He tasted of her and maple syrup. And Tyber.

She felt the hard, pulsing length of him pressed to her thigh. Hot for her. He was always hot for her.

He buried his face in the curve of her neck, cuddling his cheek against her.

"Did you?" she mouthed against his ear.

Husky breath feathered the side of her face. "Did I what?"

"Tell the difference?"

"Yes. I like the honey better, baby." His teeth pulled on her earlobe as he thrust sharply into her.

Chapter Eleven.

On the drive back to My Father's Mansion, Zanita could not keep her sights from straying again and again in Tyber's direction.

She stared at his beautiful hands on the steering wheel, so competent and in control, and she couldn't help but recall how they had felt stroking her body just a few short hours ago.

She watched the quirk of his lips in a smile, the way he bit his bottom lip when she asked him a question he needed to think about, and she could not stop herself from remembering the way those velvet-soft lips had taken such firm control of her, had her begging for more. Another touch, another tender press, another sweet caress.

And it occurred to her how very dangerous this man was to her.

How important he could become.

Had already become.

She was afraid she was acquiring an insatiable desire for him. Shakily, she brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and stared worriedly out of her window.

Tyber's glance flicked her way. A slow smile curved his outlaw lips.

Blooey was ecstatic with the arrival of two jugs of maple syrup and a bushel of apples, immediately declaring his intention to bake a squash-apple cake with the new ingredients. Tyber gritted his teeth.

Even Hambone seemed happy to see them; the fat cat purred and twirled his bulk through Tyber's legs as he brought in their bags, almost tripping him several times. As soon as the front door closed behind them, Hambone sat down in front of Tyber to let loose a huge, screeching wail.

"I brought you something; just a minute, Hambone!"

Tyber quickly found the cheese, cutting off a good-sized chunk for the demanding tabby from hell. In the trusting way of cats, Hambone cautiously sniffed it first to make sure his beloved human wasn't trying to pull a fast one on him. Once properly assured that the offering was not laced with arsenic, Hambone let out a short purr before attacking the cheese.

Zanita watched this scene play out, amazed. Who had ever heard of a cat with a penchant for Vermont cheddar? She smiled to herself. Yes, she was back in the nut house again. But it felt good to be home.

Home.

Funny how she was starting to think of this place in that way. When Tyber drove through the gates after dark and Zanita caught her first view of the house lit up in welcome for them, all crazy turrets and impossible features, she had felt a rush of warmth inside her. Then Blooey and Hambone had come out onto the porch to greet them.

It was really a very nice feeling.

Much better than coming home to her empty, sterile apartment.

The enticing aromas of Blooey's cooking wafted from the kitchen. Zanita sighed; yes, this was a very nice feeling.

She smiled while observing Tyber. He had quickly shed his jacket and was now kicking off his boots. In stocking feet, well-worn jeans, and a soft, red flannel shirt, he looked very much at home.

"Mmm, something smells good; I wonder what Blooey cooked up for dinner?"

"Don't know-but whatever it is, I'm sure it's elaborate. Blooey always thinks my palate suffers when I walk out that door," Tyber answered her distractedly while riffling through the mail Blooey had piled onto a sideboard in the foyer.

He suddenly grinned at a postcard in his hand, eagerly flipping it over to read the back. "It's from my parents."

"Your parents?"

Somehow she had never pictured him as having a mother and a father. Parents. That made him sort of... normal. Zanita was not sure she was ready to embrace a normal Tyber. A Tyber who had regular family. A Tyber who was not so outside the realm of normal relationships.

Tyber leaned back against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared at her with an expression of combined disbelief and amusement. "Did you think I sprang from the forehead of Galileo fully grown?" he asked dryly.

"Well no, of course not. I just never pictured you with-" He quirked an eyebrow at her. "All right, so maybe I did think that! So, are they traveling?"

"Yes, my father is on sabbatical; they're in Greece."

"He's a teacher?"

"Professor of Antiquities at Harvard."

Zanita digested this piece of information, fidgeting slightly. Then she suddenly smiled as something dawned on her.

"Of course." She snapped her fingers. "That's how you ended up with Tyberius Augustus." The father must be just as much of a kook as the son. Who named their kid Tyberius Augustus?

"What are your brothers and sisters named-Claudius Aurelius and Hera Athena?" She giggled.

Tyber frowned at her. "I am an only child, and what's wrong with my name?"

"Nothing; its a beautiful name. Very unconventional-suits you to a tee."

"My mother thought so. She's always said that as soon as Dad suggested it, she knew it was perfect for me."

This woman was either very much in love with her husband or Zanita was involved with the Addams Family. Probably both. She cleared her throat. "Is your mother a professor too?"

Tyber grinned. "Hell, no. She's an artist. She paints trash."

"That bad?"

He laughed. "No, I mean she actually paints trash. You know-flea market stuff; she uses it in her work. She's really quite good."

Another kook. Yep. The Addams Family.

As if to lend credence to her thoughts, at that moment Blooey bustled into the foyer, squawking, "Are ye gonna stand there all night diddlin' away with the lass while me supper goes to the squabs, Captain? "

Probably chastised, Tyber followed behind Zanita into the kitchen, bending down once to murmur in her ear, "Diddlin'?"

Zanita, who knew exactly what the word meant, just shrugged her shoulders, thankful that he was behind her and couldn't see her blush.

Catching her expression in the hall mirror they passed, Tyber grinned wickedly. Blooey was a crusty old tar. He liked that in a man.

The following days seemed to fall into the regular Evans pattern, if anything having to do with Tyber could be called either regular or a pattern.

Zanita worked on her usual array of articles; Tyber worked on... well, whatever it was Tyber worked on. One evening he uncharacteristically went back down to his lab, saying he had an idea he needed to "get down" right away. He was back upstairs in less than thirty minutes.

Zanita, who had been watching an old movie, looked up in alarm at the sharklike grin on his face as he began walking-no, stalking-toward her, proclaiming that he had a sudden uncontrollable urge to teach her quantum mechanics.

She shrieked and fell right in with his plans by bolting up the stairs and into their bedroom, a pursuing Tyber right on her heels.

It had been an in-depth lesson.

The next night, he corraled her in the parlor. His eyes had a wild gleam.

"You're in a dungeon."

"What?"

"Go with this for a minute, Zanita. You're in a dungeon-"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm working on a computer game and-"

"A computer game? Here, all this time, I thought you were this close to the cure for the common cold. I can't believe it!" One of the greatest minds of the day, and he was working on games!

Tyber seemed affronted. "Games are wonderful things, Zanita. They can teach all sorts of things if presented in an engaging format-reasoning ability, a sense of accomplishment, not to mention exercise for the imagination."

His eyes twinkled down at her, forcing her to recall the imaginative, engaging format he used last evening to teach her...

She felt the peaks of her breasts harden with the memory.

"Well, I suppose..."

He knelt before her chair, taking her hands in his. "You're in a dungeon. In order to escape, you have to negotiate a maze of logic-"

"I'm doomed."

"Hmm. I can see I'm going to have to wait until I can test the prototype on you."

Zanita waved her hand. "No way. I'm lousy at those kinds of things. I can't even shoot a straight line; one of those weird ninja things would have my head before the game even started."

A dimple curved into his cheek. "It's not that kind of game; it's an adventure game."

"I'd still be lousy."

He rubbed his chin back and forth against her knee, his clear, flashing eyes engaging hers. "No. You're very good at adventures, baby."

The man could stop a heart from beating.

She mentally shook herself. "Well, no adventures for me right now. I told Hank I'd get this extra article done for him in time for Halloween which, in case you don't realize it, is tomorrow. I haven't even started it yet."

"What's it about?" He leaned further over her lap, trying to read her hieroglyphics upside down.

"You know the old cemetery down by the mill?"

He furrowed his brow. "The one from the seventeen-hundreds with all the interesting sayings on the gravestones?"

"Yeah. Well, there's this legend that on midnight on All Hallow's Eve a ghostly carriage rides through the cemetery over the headstones."

"Ye Olde Federal Express?"

She laughed, then dropped her voice to an enticing whisper. "Supposedly it rides amongst the graves looking for someone or some thing. Rumor has it that two hundred years ago, on the eve of Halloween, at the stroke of midnight, a beautiful young woman-"

" Cherchez la femme."

Zanita whacked his shoulder before continuing with the lurid tale, "-goes to an assignation with her lover. Unfortunately, her husband has found out about the tryst, gets there before she does, and whacks off the head of her paramour."

"And rightly so, the poor cuckolded fellow." Zanita stuck her tongue out at him. "Go on, baby, I'm breathless with curiosity."

Zanita ignored his sarcasm, leaning closer to him. "When the lady arrives, who greets her but-"

"Let me take a wild guess: the headless man about town?"

She nodded. "The woman sees her hunk sans head and instantly dies of fright. The coachman runs off, and the coach with the dead woman is forever doomed to wander the graveyard looking for her love, who can't find her either because he has no head." Zanita made the appropriate scary sound, "Oooo..."

"That is lame."

"Easy for you to say. I don't see you running down to the cemetery to see if-" A light came into Tyber's eyes. An unholy light.

"All right."

"What do you mean, all right?"

"Let's go down there tonight-at midnight. Check it out."