"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 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 to "explain" all about the energy. She tried to stifle a giggle. Her original assessment of him had been correct-the man was a kook. But such an outrageously wonderful kook! She sighed, unconsciously leaning further back into him.

What time was it, anyway? It was impossible to tell here in Tyber's private grotto. The only lights in the darkened room came from the aquariums. She squinted her eyes, peering closely into the Atlantis aquarium in front of her. There was some kind of odd timepiece in there... 8:30 if she read the strange dial correctly.

Time to get up and maybe, just maybe, skulk away. It was not that she didn't want to see Tyber; it was just that she didn't want to face him. This had all the earmarks of being a very embarrassing morning-after scene. They both had been rash.

What if he regretted the evening? Wanted to forget it as soon as possible? What if he had already forgotten it? A man could have short-term memory loss when it suited him.

Besides, she was giving up men.

And mornings were the best time for that sort of thing.

Like starting a diet.

She took a deep breath and tentatively placed her hand on his to see if she could gently release his hold of her. His arms tightened around her stomach. Shoot!

She slowly tried to slide her leg out from under his. He wouldn't budge. Why did men feel they had the right to sprawl unchecked in a bed?