High Intensity
by
Dara Joy
CONTENTS
· Chapter 1
· Chapter 2
· Chapter 3
· Chapter 4
· Chapter 5
· Chapter 6
· Chapter 7
· Chapter 8
· Chapter 9
· Chapter 10
· Chapter 11
· Chapter 12
· Chapter 13
· Chapter 14
· Chapter 15
Chapter One
"I'll have the steak bomb."
Tyberius Augustus Evans, renowned theoretical physicist, sat back in his seat with an expression that said his universe was about to display a fascinating exposition on the principle of Chaos.
This expression was directed at the love of his life, Zanita Masterson, with whom he associated the very foundation of modern physics. From his experience in the field of Mastersonmatics, he was positive he was about to witness a wondrous spectacle.
He leaned further back in his seat to patiently observe the "event."
Blithely unaware of her paramour's absorbed visage, Zanita gazed up at the waiter and asked sweetly, "It comes with cheese, onion, peppers, and mushrooms, doesn't it?"
The waiter smiled back, completely unaware of the fate that was about to befall him. The corners of Tyber's sensuous lips curved. We have ignition, Houston.
"Yes, ma'am," the young man chirped.
"I don't want any peppers." She smiled up at him.
"All right." The waiter smiled back as he wrote down "no peppers" on the order. Tyber snorted and waited tolerantly. He was not to be disappointed.
"And… instead of regular onions, can I have caramelized ones?"
"Sure." He scratched on his pad and started to turn to Tyber for his order. Tyber did not even glance at his menu. He knew they were not even close to entering a trajectory to planet Zanita. Touchdown was nowhere in sight.
As if on cue, Zanita said, "You know what—I think I'll have mashed potatoes instead of the fries!"
The waiter paused ever so slightly before he began to write. "Uh-huh."
Tyber began his countdown. Ten… nine… eight…
Zanita bit her lip as she scrutinized the menu. "Ummm… put some avocado on that, too."
"Avocado?" The waiter's eyes popped out.
Zanita nodded. He scribbled "avocado." Tyber snorted and continued counting. Three… two… one…
"Oh, and forget the roll."
The waiter stopped and stared at her, dumbstruck. "B-but it—it's a sandwich!"
Lift offffff! Tyber's ice blue eyes flashed in silent appreciation of the fabulous display of entropy. With Zanita, disorder had a certain order to it.
Zanita waved her hand to indicate that such details were unimportant in her scheme of reality. Tyber grinned, displaying two curved dimples, as he turned to the dazed waiter.
"I'll have the chicken salad sandwich."
The waiter swallowed, pen poised over the tablet, ready for the Euclidian translation. "And… ?"
"That's it."
The young man gratefully took their menus and beat a hasty retreat.
"I'm starving." Zanita smiled at Tyber as she ran the toe of her shoe over his jean-clad ankle.
Tyber cocked his eyebrow at her, then picked up a glass of water and slowly sipped it. "And here I thought this was just a ruse to make me leave the symposium."
"God, Tyber, that was so boring."
"Boring. Marcus Schlammerthimmer happens to be one of the foremost minds in nano-technology; he—"
Zanita slipped off her shoe and strummed her foot up the inside seam of his jean-clad leg. "—is boring."
Tyber sucked in his breath and gave her a firm look that said he was not going to be distracted. At least not until they finished lunch. "Okay, I admit he is a bit on the long-winded side but he—"
Zanita wiggled her toes against his muscular thigh. Tyber had spectacular thighs. And that was but one in a line of many spectacular attributes in the extraordinary Evans package.
Zanita's thoughts went to what the man had done to her that morning when she had awakened in his bed, completely tangled up with him. His long chestnut hair, tousled from sleep, had swung forward as he leaned over her. He had used the tips of his hair to torture her mercilessly as he brought her to peak several times.
As usual, he had taken her thoroughly, displaying that innate pirate streak in him. Mischievous devil.
Unlike any other man she had ever met, Tyberius Augustus Evans, renowned eccentric, constantly made her crazy for him. More than once she wondered about the sensational level of excitement in their relationship. The passion didn't seem to be lessening at all. In fact, against all odds, it seemed to be increasing.
After many such incredible mornings with him—as well as afternoons, evenings, and middle of the nights—Zanita had come to the decision that she was not going to do anything to tamper with the status quo of their relationship. She wanted them to stay just as they were—wild for each other.
Why take a chance and mess with perfection? she reasoned.
And it was perfection…
Zanita took a dainty little breath in an attempt to disguise her rapidly escalating pulse.
She suspected her ruse didn't work when those bedroom blue eyes gleamed at her.
She knew positively that it hadn't worked when the "dimple of hidden knowledge" appeared next to the curve of his well-formed lips.
Zanita was very familiar with the dimple of hidden knowledge. After all, the man was not simply a genius. He was an aware genius.
Which made it very difficult for her to get away with anything.
She frowned in annoyance. The sexy scientist was too sharp for his own good! Or rather, her own good. "You should be thanking me for rescuing us."
Tyber's eyebrows arched in amusement. "Really."
She nodded. "Instead of hearing about poly-wogs and nurks, you get to enjoy a simple lunch and an afternoon of shopping."
"That's polygons and nurbs." His lips twitched.
"Whatever. This is so much more relaxing."
Behind Zanita's back, the door to the kitchen suddenly banged open. An irate chef stood in the doorway, hands on hips, white hat crushed in one fist. He glared at the waiter beside him, who sheepishly pointed in Zanita's direction.
Tyber had no trouble reading his lips. "I might have known it was her!" He rolled his eyes and stormed back into his culinary sanctuary.
Tyber noted the observation with his customary enjoyment. Simple lunch? With Zanita? Like a guided missile, his unforgettable "Curls" struck fast and without warning. Often the exact target was a total enigma to all except she who controlled the inertial guidance system.
Once, she had rewritten the recipe for chicken marsala and had ended up with a whole new color combination for food. The striped effect was still a mystery to him.
There were all kinds of things flying around Zanita's head. Sometimes they landed. Tyber adored her.
Oblivious to the scene that had just taken place behind her, Zanita continued on with what she considered to be excellent plans for their afternoon in the city. While Cambridge had its academic interests, it also had some very unique shops. "… so I thought we could check out that new boutique that specializes in porcelain…"
Boutique? Tyber sat still in his seat. Where had that topic come from? "Baby, there is a lecture on hybrid radiosity at three o'clock that I want to—"
"… dragons," she finished.
Tyber hesitated a beat. "Dragons?"
"Uh-huh." She took a sip of her coffee. "All the stuff you like, too, from what I hear. When I called for directions, they told me they just got a shipment in from England; you know, that artist you love?"
"Hmmm."
Zanita smiled prettily at him.
Tyber narrowed his eyes. "And just when did you call for directions?"
"About ten minutes after the lecture started. Remember when I went to the restroom?"
Tyber watched her with guarded fascination, saying nothing.
"Well, as soon as Schlimmerdimmer opened his mouth, I could tell this was going to be a real waste of time, so I decided to change our plans." She took another sip of coffee.
He couldn't suppress the smile that curved his mouth. "The man's name is Schlammerhimmer… I think."
Zanita waved her hand, erasing the man's name from their frame of reality, not to mention the rest of their afternoon. The memory of the lecture gave her a twinge of pain. The man barely spoke above a whisper, only used the obscure terms spoken behind locked labs, and, worse, had the annoying habit of making weird honking noises in his throat whenever he paused in his speech. Which was every three minutes.
"Tell the truth, Tyber, you'd much rather go to that shop than listen to him get lost in his own importance. Besides, who knew what he was talking about?"
Tyber gave her a look. "You know, I am a theoretical physicist, sweetheart. Occasionally we like to indulge our wild side and listen to such lectures."
Zanita popped a piece of buttered roll into her mouth. "Speaking of wild side, Tyber, when are we going to investigate that ghost sighting you told me about at that tavern on Martha's Vineyard?"
The ghost sighting on Martha's Vineyard… he had told her about that when he had been trying to come up with something—anything—that would make her stay with him after they had finished their first investigation of the phony psychic healer, Xavier LaLeche. The two of them had joined forces and hearts on that case.
Initially, Tyber had simply agreed to help her investigation as a way of starting up a relationship with her—when she wasn't looking. Zanita had been opposed to any kind of relationship, so he had to tread very carefully, letting her think that he was not her boyfriend. While all the time, he was exactly that.
It had been a brilliant plan. If a bit bizarre.
But then he was known for his brilliance.
He was also known for his unique solutions. Pirate solutions.
This solution, however, was about to jump back and bite him on his parameter ram, so to speak. It appeared his Curls was not going to forget about the next investigation.
Not that he'd thought for one minute she would.
Zanita was a reporter with their small-town newspaper, The Patriot Sun. She was also a woman who liked to explore the unknown. Hell, she was with him, which was the "unknown" at its finest!
Tyber was very aware that he was considered an eccentric. He was also aware that his lady love was just enough of an oddball to make what they had together perfect. Or nearly perfect.
The waiter arrived with their plates, placing Tyber's in front of him. "A chicken salad sandwich," he announced loudly.
Then he turned to Zanita and gingerly placed her dish down, mumbling quietly, "And a… steak bomb."
Zanita looked down at the jumbled plate of food, and her eyes glittered like a predator's just before it strikes its prey.
"Anything else with that?" the waiter asked apprehensively.
"Worcestershire sauce."
Tyber choked on his water.
"Worcestershire… Right away, ma'am." The waiter sped off and immediately returned with a bottle of the sauce. He quickly placed it in front of her before another wacky request issued forth from those soft, full lips.
Zanita happily slathered sauce over the mess, slapping the back of the bottle with a prizefighter's determination.
"I think Blooey is spoiling you," Tyber murmured.
Blooey was Tyber's all-around man and cook. He was also an ex-mathematician named Arthur Bloomberg who had gone slightly over the edge during his research with imaginary numbers. In Arthur's case, the study of imaginary numbers had the unfortunate tendency to illuminate the existential spirit. He couldn't find the "point" anymore.
So he left the building.
Now, the man was convinced he was on a pirate ship and Tyber was his captain.
Which was surprisingly close to a certain reality.
Tyberius Augustus Evans often looked like one, spoke like one, acted like one, and made love like one. In other words, once the rogue boarded, he gave no quarter. The man was ruthlessly sensual.
Zanita finished dousing her concoction with the Worcestershire sauce. "Don't be silly, Doc, Blooey hates when I add anything to his 'grub,' and you didn't answer my question."
Tyber put down his sandwich and regarded her intently. "Then we're even."
Zanita paused, hand in the air, holding the upside-down bottle. "What do you mean?"
"Our wedding," was all he said.
"Wh-what about it?" Zanita had been dreading this topic.
Tyber exhaled noisily. He spaced each word with the pause of importance. "When—are— we—getting—married?"
She swallowed. "Ummm, this looks great, don't you think?"
"Stop trying to change the subject. May I remind you that you asked me? I am going to hold you to this, Zanita—when is it going to be?"
Zanita's shoulders sank.
"Why are you suddenly so skittish?" He had already figured out the answer to that but he was setting a nice Evans trap. His love was hedging a wee bit too much. He recognized the signs. Parabolic Maelstrom was approaching. He intended to do everything he could to subvert it.
Zanita reached across the table and placed her hand over his. "Tyber, everything is going so great between us."
"And…?" he prodded.
"Well, I'm afraid if we change anything, well lose what we have."
"You mean if we get married."
She bowed her head. "Yes."
Tyber looked down at the top of the short, black, curly mop and shook his head. She was nonlinear thinking at its finest.
"Baby, it will only get better once we are married."
She shook her head in tiny negation.
Tyber leaned forward. This was the one part he hadn't been able to figure out—exactly what was motivating her. "Why do you think that?"
"Because once we are married the romance will die," she said in a knowledgeable voice.
Tyber's lips parted in astonishment. "Where did you ever get that idea?"
She raised her enormous violet eyes to his. "I just read it somewhere—maybe in TV Guide."
"That's your source for marriage counseling? TV Guide?"
"Of course! I've been thinking about this. No one's ever allowed to be married in romantic movies and books; it's a rule of some kind. It has to do with the excitement factor."
"The excitement factor."
"Yes, because they're, well, married."
Now there was a premise he could fight with logic.
Not.
Even though he hadn't known her exact reason, he had expected something along these lines. Not only expected it—he was prepared for it. He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and slapped several folded papers onto the table.
"What are those?"
"Take a look at them."
Gingerly, Zanita picked them up. Her mouth fell open when she saw what they were. A marriage license and several computer readouts which clearly stated that they were married on today's date at five p.m.!
There was a computer copy of the same license, which stated that their marriage had been witnessed by Judge Jockey and his assistant, Ms. Skootch. There were other sheets which confirmed their marital status; even a change of her name to Evans on her Social Security records.
"The program engages tonight," he said softly.
Another woman would have had a conniption fit. Zanita, being Zanita, reacted true to her Zanita way. In other words, she failed to see the forest because she was fascinated by the patterns of the leaves.
A tingle washed over her. She shivered with a reporter's delight at having made a discovery. She gazed up at him, eyes gleaming with awe, and reverently said the very last thing he expected. "You're a hacker!"
He rubbed his ear in embarrassment. "Ahhh… no, no, I'm not."
Zanita raised a skeptical brow, not even deigning to give the denial a whiff of belief. "This is incredible! You know, I suspected when you got those LaLeche files from the FBI, but this! How did you get the marriage license and the other documents? It all looks genuine."
"It is."
Now she frowned at him.
"Well… in one sense. I did this as an experiment, baby."
"What kind of experiment?" she asked warily. Zanita was very familiar with the Doc's experiments.
He held up his hand to forestall her objection.
"Don't worry, I put in an executable code which will go into effect in five days. It undoes all this."
"What?"
"I have five days to prove to you that you are wrong."
"What if I'm not?"
"We go back to the way we are now, and only you and I will know about our marriage. All proof will be wiped clean. But I am positive I can convince you to stay married."
As ideas went, this was a lulu. Zanita was not amused. "So if I win, there is no proof that we are married and we go on as we are?"
"Exactly." He grinned outrageously at her. "Fits your requirements to a tee, baby. Don't you love it?"
Her nostrils flared in rising temper. "Brilliant as usual." She stirred her coffee briskly. "Now tell me why you did such an outrageous thing before I bash your skewed head in!"
His square jaw dropped. "I told you, I can make it all disappear with a few keystrokes. I simply want to prove to you that nothing will change between us. I want to give you a test opportunity to show you that your theory of romance is wrong. That was all I wanted to do."
"But don't you see, Tyber, if I know that we are not really married, it won't work. The excitement will still be there."
He tried not to cross his eyes. He knew from experience how to deal with his love. "But we will be married, baby. For the next five days, actually four and a half, you will be Mrs. Evans."
"What happens after the five days go by?"
"I put a delete code into the executable…" He stopped suddenly before he revealed too much. He wasn't called a pirate for nothing. "Let's just say it all goes to the way it should be."
Zanita thought about the strange plan, wondering if it could work. It sounded interesting… maybe it would work.
Pressing his advantage, Tyber lowered his voice to a sexy purr. "Ill be sure to live up to my part." He smiled lazily at her. "Every chance I get."
...
Januszek66