"Joy, Dara - High 02 - High Intensity" - читать интересную книгу автора (Joy Dara)

"Especially this chilly little ..." He ran his palm over her backside. "Tyber!"

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Chapter Two

"Synthetic flesh! Synthetic flesh!"
Tyber and Zanita were sitting in the den, watching a really bad horror flick. They both sighed in bliss.
Each had assumed his or her usual favorite position. Zanita was stretched across the couch and Tyber was sitting on the floor in front of her, using the couch as a backrest. The position afforded the physicist the perfect vantage point to tickle Zanita whenever the mood struck him. Which was often. Yet in a random, unpredictable pattern.
Zanita would then retaliate by lifting the heavy fall of his gold-streaked chestnut hair to blow lightly on the back of his neck. Even though she was not a physicist, she knew the
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exact pressure and force to use to cause tingles to skitter down his back.
He was still shivering from the last "attack" and trying to hide it.
Each took great delight in torturing the other with this game of hit-and-run seduction. It was a subtle yet devastating way to drive each other crazy.
During the next commercial, Tyber reached back over his head and lightly brushed the side of her left breast, then pretended he was reaching for the TV Guide to see what else was on.
He grinned when he heard her low gasp.
"What have you uncovered so far about this 'ghost,' Curls? And I hope you realize how much I love you. Hunting ghosts is not exactly a proper pastime for a respected physicist."
Zanita looked down at the top of his head, incredulous. "Tyber, everyone knows you're a kook."
Tyber threw her a look over his shoulder. Which was wasted, because Zanita was thinking about their investigation and her agile mind was already working on possibilities.
"Perhaps, but I am a respected kook," he grumbled to the TV picture. "I mean, eccentric."
Zanita ignored that. "The problem is that the spirit seems to be munching on the guests foodЧtop gourmet kind only. He leaves the
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meat-and-potatoes fare behind for the plebeians. This spook is strictly after the gateaus and the ganaches."
For the second time that evening, Tyber almost choked. He turned and spaced his words with precision. "Tell me you are joking?"
He frowned at her when she smiled sweetly at him. "I don't suppose anyone has bothered to check for mice?" he added.
"Don't be silly, Tyber, of course they did, and everything else as well. You asked me what the spirit did, and that's what he does. Along with the usual spooky stuff... objects flying through the air, things going bump in the night, fog rolling in the living room ..."
"Fog rolling in the living room." He stared at her silently through spiky lashes. The picture of disbelief.
"I'm surprised you don't know more about the case, since you were the one who suggested it."
He had the grace to look away guiltily at the reminder. Yes, he had presented it to her in the hope that she would hang around long enough for him to snag her. It was a typical pirate ploy and had worked reasonably well.
Until it backfired.
Actually, he hadn't done any in-depth research on the case. One of his colleagues, who had just come back from the Vineyard, had mentioned it to him in passing. As he recalled, Stan Mazurski
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had been snickering in the superior way scientists often have when they know they have the inside handle on the workings of the universe, and all lesser beings who think they see things that go bump in the night are to be treated like naughty children.
Despite his own scientific background, the attitude annoyed Tyber.
Tyberius Augustus Evans was his own man, plain and simple. In short, Tyber would never join any club that would have him as a member. He was a rebel, an individualist, a no-holds-barred rogue, and the only person he answered to was himself.
And... a petite, five-foot-something woman who had managed to abscond with his heart.
He glanced again at Zanita, the expression on his enigmatic face a cross between wary resignation and disgruntled interest. He knew he was love's tramp.
Zanita was once more struck by the sheer handsomeness and strength of his masculine features. There were times when the light fell on him in a certain way... it always caused her heart to skip a beat. Oh, how she loved Tyberius Augustus Evans! She knew without a doubt that there was no one else in the universe like him.
"What?" she whispered softly to him.
His lids lowered and the icy hot eyes gazed up at her. It was an unconsciously sexy male stare
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that always made Zanita's toes zing. It had something to do with those eyes ... those pale blue eyes that had so much fire and intelligence.
Underneath her curiosity, he had felt her passion rising. Like a true brigand, he decided to let it smolder awhile. "Are you telling me that this supposed ghost haunts this inn by gobbling up the haute cuisine?" He burst out laughing. A deep, rich laugh of sheer disbelief.
"Tyber, this is very serious! The ghost is purported to continually mess up the innkeeper's best efforts. He nibbles on the salad nicoise, he polishes off the galantine, and he uncurls the spiral pears!"
"Spiral pears?"
"Not only that, he switches the place settings! Forcing boring people to sit next to each other. It's a dining disaster!"