But whatever he had been about to say was lost when she began moving on him.

He closed his eyes, letting the sensations flood him. And when he thought he would drown in it, he clutched her buttocks, rocking her back and forth on him, augmenting her oh-so-sweet movements with his own. He took her with him, reveling in the exquisite feel of her, the spicy taste of her, the passionate scent of her. He was lost in his Curls.

The only sounds in the room were the gentle bubbling of the aquariums and their ragged, strained breathing. Then her catchy, mewling sounds, begging him for... something, anything...

Followed by her whimpering sob. His throaty growl. Their sighs.

They collapsed together back on the bed, Tyber still holding her close to him, his open mouth clinging to the damp skin of her neck. Leisurely, he swept the vulnerable spot with a slow lick of his hot tongue. Zanita still shivered beneath his touch.

"So, you see"-he nuzzled her just below her ear-"what I mean by High Energy."

"Mmm." She curled up around him. "Not a relationship; an experiment." Her face was smiling as she drifted off into a sated slumber.

The corner of Tyber's mouth twitched in a roguish grin as he gazed down at her sleeping in his arms. The battle was won. His satiated purr, the victor against her dreaming lips. "A rose by any other name, my Zanita."

He lowered the Jolly Roger.

Chapter Fourteen.

"People of Earth, do not be frightened-we are your friends."

Uh-huh. Whenever an alien said that in a nineteen-fifties sci-fi movie, all the armed forces on the planet were immediately mobilized in a rapid montage of black-and-white stock-footage clips. Yep. There go the Brits, the Russians, the Chinese, what looked suspiciously like a German U-boat, and for some inexplicable reason, the U.S. Navy-just in case the aliens were sub-mariners.

Then came the spinning newspaper headlines: Aliens among us!; U.N. Meets to Discuss Alien Menace!; Who Goes There?; and the ever-popular call to salvation, There's Still Time, Brother!

Zanita lay back down on the couch in the den, shoveling popcorn into her mouth. Half her attention was on the TV screen in front of her; the other half was mulling over recent events.

Almost a week had passed since LaLeche's visit-or extortion attempt-and they still were not any closer to exposing him. Tyber didn't seem particularly concerned with their lack of progress, but it was starting to worry her. How long should she give it?

It wasn't that she was in any hurry to leave Tyber's home- just the opposite if the truth be told.

And therein lay the problem.

She loved living here: Blooey's fussing over them, the scent of his wonderful cooking filling the house; Hambone's cozy company; Tyber's sweet albeit commanding nature; the house itself-an enchanting haven so utterly a home.

She had adored the fall season in this house-the change of leaves, Blooey's late harvest and squash everywhere, after-work hot drinks on the porch or sun room with Tyber wrapped warmly around her, fireplaces lit in the evening to ward off the brisk chill, the cat curled up on the rug.

It was easy to look forward to the winter at My Father's Mansion.

Zanita imagined Tyber's private, walled world blanketed in white-evenings by the fire, wrapped in her Victorian shawl, reading, cold nights cuddling together under the soft quilts in his shell bed, cozy as clams....

It wasn't good.

In fact, it was going to be incredibly hard to leave here. And the longer she stayed, the harder it was going to get. There was only one thing she could do; she was going to have to set a deadline and stick by it. Story accomplished or not, when the deadline came, she was going to have to leave.

The thought was depressing.

So how long did she wait? At least until after Thanksgiving. Before Auntie had left, she had given Zanita her customary Thanksgiving dinner invitation to her home in Wellesley. Of course, Hank and her grandmother would be there; it was a family tradition, and there was no way she could get out of it. Auntie had extended the invitation to Tyber and Blooey as well. Which meant they would all be going as a unit. Zanita thought it would just be too awkward if she moved out around that time.

Before Christmas?

Hmm. Blooey had seemed depressed that he wasn't going to be making Thanksgiving dinner, so Tyber had cheered him up by promising him he could make a big Christmas feast. He had already mentioned to her inviting her grandparents and Mills, since Mills didn't have any close family and she usually spent the holidays with Zanita's family. Tyber had even graciously included Auntie.

How could she mess up everyone's holiday?

This was getting increasingly tangled. She sighed. Here was prime reinforcement of her new tenet: Nothing was ever simple when a man was involved.

"Colonel, the aliens are demanding a meeting with the King of Rock and Roll."

Zanita gaped at the set, a popcorn kernel balanced on her lips.

Tyber stood in the doorway, chuckling. "What are you watching?" He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Aliens Uber Alles."

Another man would have scoffed at her choice of entertainment. But then, other men weren't Doc Evans. "And you didn't call me?" He seemed miffed that he had missed the beginning of the movie.

"I thought you were helping Blooey give Hambone a bath."

Tyber didn't respond verbally, just held up both forearms, which now sported two long scratches.

"That's terrible! Shame on Hambone."

"He gets me every time, the scalawag." He sauntered into the room, sprawling down on the carpet in front of the couch. Zanita held out the bowl of popcorn.

They watched the movie in companionable silence, occasionally making their usual comments. Tyber rested back against the couch, the top of his head brushing against her thigh. Every now and then his hand came up over his shoulder in a blind search for the popcorn bowl. A couple of times he playfully missed, tweaking her leg instead.

From her vantage point draped across the sofa, Zanita had an excellent view of his long, muscular, jean-clad legs. Personal experience told her his thighs really were as powerful as they appeared encased in those hugging pants. He looked as sexy to her now as he had the first moment she had seen him.

The effect he had on her would never change.

Tyber was that rare type of man whose masculinity was always apparent, no matter what he was doing. He was the only man she had ever known who could turn her on simply by being there. Zanita was constantly crazy for the feel of him.

She exhaled, briefly debating whether or not to lean over, lift his thick fall of hair, and nibble-kiss the back of his neck. Reluctantly, she decided against it; such an action would undoubtedly lead to them missing the rest of the movie.

The other-worldly music suddenly increased in volume, letting the audience know that either the aliens, or something to do with the aliens, or something the aliens had done, was about to be seen. Zanita turned her focus from Tyber's silky hair back to the screen.

The camera panned a stock shot of Carlsbad Caverns.

Something was moving inside the cavern, coming out. Several stalklike tentacles were waving in the opening to the cave now. The music reached a deafening crescendo.

A large carrot with giant eyeballs showed itself to the Earthlings, who ran screaming for cover.

Zanita and Tyber burst out laughing.

Of course, the military was there to open up machine guns, cannons, and dynamite onto the terrifying nemesis from outer space. Predictably, none of our superior weapons worked.

"There's got to be some high-tension wires around there somewhere," Tyber quipped, naming his favorite choice of monster death.

Zanita crunched on her popcorn. "Nope, I say it's the ever popular Torch Method of Alien Decimation." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, a flame thrower appeared stage left, turning the unfortunate invader into a fireball. "Alien succotash. Now they'll be a two-minute voice-over rife with dire warnings and schlock philosophy."

"... And so, they came from out there, eager for new worlds to conquer..."

"What did I tell you?" Zanita grinned.

Tyber chuckled. "Whoever said nature abhors a vacuum has never seen one of these movies." The grin suddenly died on his face.

Zanita sat up, concerned. "Tyber, what is it?"

Nature abhors a vacuum. He had been thinking that very thing when he had his private little chat with LaLeche last week. There was something here which connected the two....

"I've been an idiot!" He stood up.

Zanita, kneeling on the couch, gazed up at him with a dimpled grin. "Yes, but what specifically are you referring to?"

"What time is it?"

"About a quarter to eight-why?"

He was already headed to the phone. "If we're lucky, we can still catch them on the West Coast."

"Catch who?" She went to stand beside him.

Tyber called Los Angeles information, asking for the number of Space Age Systems, Inc. He met Zanita's eyes over the handset. "Bear with me." He dialed the number, handing her the phone. "Ask them if they do anything else besides manufacturing shuttle components."

She gave him a strange look over her shoulder, but did as he asked. Her eyes widened as the woman on the other end responded. "Special effects in cinema." She hung up the phone.

Tyber immediately picked it up again, redialing the number. "Not just shuttle components as we thought." Someone answered the phone on the other end, presumably the same woman. Tyber asked to speak to an engineer.

When he got through to the engineer, Tyber told the man who he was, launching into a hokey explanation of some information he needed for a VR project he was working on.

Zanita knew VR stood for virtual reality. She wondered if Tyber really was working on such a project. At any rate, the man on the other end didn't seem to hesitate, giving him all the information he needed. She guessed Tyber's name had been enough of an introduction, especially since nothing he asked in any way connected to virtual reality.

He hung up the phone, a huge smile breaking across his face. "We got him, baby."

"Tell me! Tell me!" She clutched his hands, just as excited as he was.

"That little healing demonstration he put on for us in Vermont-I know just how he did it."

"How?" Her violet eyes got huge with anticipation. Tyber thought she looked totally delectable. Without thinking, he lowered his head to give her a heated kiss. She pushed against his shoulders.

"Not now, Doc! Tell me how he did it!"

"That's just it; he didn't. It was all a fake; he's a fake. Have you ever seen those nylon filament lamps-they look like multicolored hedgehogs or sea anemones? They were very popular back in the early eighties."

"You mean the stuff that sprouted on people's coffee tables in black box bases and lit up at the tips in different colors?"

"That's the stuff. Our friend LaLeche was wearing them or something like them. You see, light travels through those clear filaments from an end source. In this case, LaLeche probably used a small circuit board with some light bulbs, like the little ones they use in Christmas tree lights, connected to the filaments."

Her eyebrows rose. "That would explain the light-show we witnessed, but how could he conceal the filament wires? You saw yourself-his sleeves were rolled up way past his elbows. There was nothing there but bare arms."

"Not quite; there was nothing there to see but bare arms. That's the beauty of it-he was wearing prosthetic skin."

"Prosthetic skin? Are you sure? It looked so real; his arms even had hair on them."

"According to this engineer I spoke to, they use this stuff all the time in motion pictures. It does look real-human hairs are individually inserted into the skin to augment the effect."

"You don't think we would have seen something odd about it?"

"No. Don't forget, it wasn't all that bright in the cabin; LaLeche only brought those kerosene lanterns for lighting. And he made sure he did the trick at night."

Zanita thought about it a minute. "You shook hands with him when we left. Wouldn't you have felt anything strange?"

"Not necessarily. Remember, it was late; it was cold as hell; the handshake was brief; and, most importantly, I wasn't expecting to feel anything unusual. Besides, the engineer told me the stuff feels very close to human skin in texture."

"If memory serves me," Zanita said, "LaLeche worked at Space Age Systems for two years, the longest he had ever stayed in one place. We even remarked on it, remember?"

Tyber shook his head. "I bet he was learning all kinds of new tricks there. He probably doctored up a fake resume to go along with his fake name. It also explains why he only did the trick once. I imagine it's not a simple thing to set up."

"So, the filaments were under the prosthetic skin?"

"Exactly. He must have had the on-off switch within easy reach. The circuit board would have been concealed somewhere on him. My guess is inside his pants. One flick and viola! You light up my life."

Zanita blew the curls off her forehead. "Tyber, how did you ever figure this out? Where was the connection?"

"When I saw the veggie alien and I commented on nature abhorring a vacuum, it reminded me that I was thinking the very same thought when I was talking to LaLeche. I knew there had to be some intuitive connection between the two, which my subconscious brain had already figured out. I got to thinking about the hokey alien make-up in the movie, and that thought led to special effects, which led to Hollywood, which is in L.A. I remembered Xavier spent two years in L.A. at Space Age Systems. Alien-Space Age-LaLeche. It hit me; Space Age Systems might not have been just a shuttle component manufacturer as we had originally thought, but an F/X studio. Simple linear reasoning." He looked at her expectantly.

Zanita rolled her eyes exactly as she had done the first time he met her and he was explaining Chaos at the seminar.

Simple reasoning? Only Tyber and, perhaps, Sherlock Holmes, could've made those brilliant deductive leaps. "Whew! Doc, you are amazing."

Tyber grinned, winking at her. "It's all part of the service. Go write your article, baby."

Zanita frowned. "But we don't have anything to put him in jail with."

He put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her to him. "All we have to do is expose him. You write your piece; they'll come out of the woodwork to nail him."

The article was published in the Sunday edition of the Patriot Sun.

Hank wasn't in when Zanita dropped off the piece, but she didn't have to wait too long to find out his reaction.

He called her at Tyber's house after dinner and chewed her out for putting herself at potential risk. Then he demanded to speak to Tyber. Tyber gingerly took the phone from her, not getting much in by way of conversation except a lot of "yes, sirs" and "I know, sirs" and "I will, sirs." Then he handed the phone back to her with an apologetic shrug.