High Intensity (6 page)

Everyone except Hambone, who issued one of his yawns.

Hambone's yawns could be interpreted in a wealth of ways. There was the "hmm?" yawn. The "so what?" yawn. The "get lost" yawn. The "this is actually interesting sort of yawn. And the ever popular "I'm yawning" yawn. Zanita wasn't exactly sure which yawn this was but opted for the "this is actually interesting, sort of" yawn.

When they arrived at the inn, Todd Sparkling, the chef/owner of the Florencia Inn, met them at the door. He was one of the younger breed of chefs who enjoyed mixing regions and styles in his cooking; he was very much into "concept cuisine." Everything he produced looked like a miniature work of art—with a fig attached to it.

Chefs had a strange obsession with figs.

"Come in! Come in! Did you have a good trip over?" The dark-haired chef escorted them into the parlor, helping them with their bags and equipment.

Built over 150 years ago, the Florencia Inn was surrounded on all sides by a lovely wraparound porch. The place was an odd combination of beckoning warmth and pockets of eeriness. Set apart from the seasonally busy Edgartown, the inn was located in Menemsha, a quiet section with gently rolling scrub land.

Of course, all of the Vineyard was quiet at this time of year… if one didn't count the stray ghost or two kicking it up on the rustic side of the island. Zanita had noted in her research that many ghost sightings seemed to occur around bodies of water, or in places surrounded by water—such as islands.

So this seemed the perfect location for an investigation. Even the name of the place conjured up images of supernatural goings-on.

As they entered the house, she whispered to Tyber, "You know, Menemsha sounds like the ideal location for all kinds of spooky, unearthly things."

He stared at her as if he were checking her sanity.

"Menemmmmmsha… ooooo…" she moaned.

Tyber placed his hand on the back of her neck and shoved her through the door.

She was undaunted. To add to her theory about the sea and spirits, Zanita had discovered that the water at Menemsha beach was colder than at any other location on the island.

Besides, it was one of the few places in all
New England
where one could watch the sun set over the water. There was a connection there… somewhere. In her mind, this was a perfect place for bananafish and things that go bump in the night.

When she mentioned her findings, Tyber immediately countered her hypothesis.

"You do realize that many of these sightings could simply be electrical disturbances caused by the surrounding water—much like what occurs on the moors in England?" he gave her a Tyberific grin.

She snorted. "Will you give this a chance!"

"And which chance would that be," he murmured before bending down to brush his warm lips across her earlobe. "I am here to investigate"—his hot tongue flicked quickly at the small lobe—"everything that goes bump in the night. And I know just where I'm going to start."

Zanita shivered at the spine-tingling touch. "Tyber! Stop that!"

He chuckled low in his throat as he carried the rest of the bags through the door and dropped them in the parlor.

Blooey, still wheezy from the trip, reeled in behind them. Hambone, on a leash, trotted with a lively step beside the little pirate. Zanita had been frankly stunned when Blooey put the leash on the despotic feline and he didn't squawk. Tyber had quickly explained to her the Law of Hambone Motion: Appear to go along with anything that seemed in a cat's best interest, no matter how bizarre.

Feline philosophy—gotta love it!

"Would you like a mini-tour before I show you to your rooms?" Todd asked.

"We'd love it!" Zanita answered for everyone. "It's so lovely here."

"A quick tour would be great. The more we're familiar with the layout, the easier it will be for us to delve into this problem you're having." Zanita noted that Tyber had said "problem," not "ghost." There were some notions that were beyond the scope of even a free-thinking physicist—and it appeared that this was one of them.

The chef beamed with pride at their enthusiasm. From what they had seen of the inn so far, he had every right to be proud. The parlor was a cozy room dominated by a large stone fireplace, flanked on both sides with wooden built-in bookshelves. The decor and style of the house seemed to be reflective of the owner's eclectic taste in cooking. Many different periods were melded together, but rather than being discordant, the decor was homey… with a splash of weirdness. Tyber and Zanita loved it.

Todd began showing them around the first level, taking them through the dining room, then the attached greenhouse—fragrant with the many fresh herbs he used in his cooking—and then to the large, professionally equipped kitchen.

Blooey stopped along the way to pick a few lids off the steaming pots. He inhaled appreciatively. " 'Tis a fine concoction yer brewing here, mate."

"Thanks, Blooey. Somehow, after we spoke on the phone, I had feeling you'd be a kindred spirit." Tyber and Zanita covertly glanced at each other. Kindred spirit? They doubted Todd had ever put one toe on a pirate ship, especially while solving a set sequence. As far as they knew, neither involved figs.

"I'll show you to your room" Todd went on. "We'll all be gathering in the parlor at seven for drinks. That way everyone can get acquainted before dinner."

"All?" Tyber asked as he glanced out the window facing the back of the inn. Rolling land, lightly dusted with snow, led to a pine forest in the distance. A hundred-year-old stone wall separated the meadow from the woods and seemed to delineate the far perimeter of the land. It was already becoming dark outside. He noted a taller hill some distance from the house, partially hidden by a copse of trees.

"Nice, isn't it?" Todd came up behind him. "It's not an ocean view but I love it."

"I was thinking it's very similar to the property around my house."

"Good old
New England
vistas. By the way, Gramercy Hubble arrived earlier this afternoon, and Calendula Brite came in just before you. They're freshening up now."

Todd opened a narrow door in the kitchen which led to a well-stocked pantry. Another door at the other end of the pantry led to a fruit cellar.

"So is your mother down there?" Tyber had the nerve to grin.

Todd chuckled. "No, but something else is. On occasion all of the fruits are scattered about. And some of them have gone from pre-peak to rot in just a few hours, for no reason I can tell. The air turns foul, too."

"No other entrances down there, I presume?"

Todd shook his head. "None. And I lock the door when I go up at night. Can't figure it out."

"That's why we're here." Tyber spoke softly.

"Yeah, and I appreciate it, believe me. My business is starting to suffer, and I've worked very hard to make this place a success."

Zanita put her hand on his arm. "We'll straighten it out; don't worry."

Todd patted her hand. "C'mon, let me show you to your rooms. I heard you were newlyweds so I saved the best suite for you. Its got a sunken whirlpool tub and a private veranda overlooking the backyard." He winked at them.

"You're my new best friend, buddy." Zanita punched Tyber's arm.

The room was a testament to sybaritic pleasure.

A mahogany canopy tester bed—not too large, Zanita noticed—faced a free-standing stone fireplace. It was a bed made for close cuddling on cool winter nights.

"Now, don't you go hogging the bed tonight, baby," Tyber drawled.

Zanita smiled. They both knew who it was that sprawled unchecked across a bed. Like a pirate captain.

They walked around the fireplace, noticing that the other side of the grate faced the sunken tub. The outside wall facing the whirlpool was almost all glass and overlooked the back end of the veranda—complete with ornate hammock. It was already dark outside; pale moonlight glanced off the thin blanket of snow on the meadows.

As they both watched, several new flakes began to fall. Along with the temperature.

Zanita knew what that meant. "Oh-oh."

Tyber ran his hand down the back of her neck to massage the tender skin there. "Uh-huh. The channel might ice up. We might have to fly back, but don't tell Hambone."

"He hates flying, huh?"

"Hell, no. The rogue loves it. Last time, he snuck into the cockpit when the stewardess opened the door and jumped right onto the pilots lap."

"My God. What happened?"

"Well, Hambone, being Hambone, thought it would be immensely amusing to sharpen his nails on the pilot's… landing gear."

Zanita started laughing. "You're making this up!"

He grinned, shaking his head. "Wish I were. When we finally landed, and it was not a smooth landing, believe me, we were told in no uncertain terms that we were no longer welcome to fly the friendly skies."

Zanita giggled.

Tyber bent down and nuzzled the back of her neck. "Would it surprise you if I told you I want to make love to you before we go down to dinner?"

"No."

"Oh."

"I know you too well, Tyberius Augustus Evans. Remember the Marble Manor Inn? We no sooner got into the room and saw that golden marble floor in the bathroom…"

"True." His breath feathered down the side of her neck, sending tingles along the sensitive skin.

His hand brushed down the front of her body, just grazing the tips of her breasts as he leaned into her with his hips and rocked. There was no mistaking the swelling in the front of his jeans—nor the pressure of it—as he rubbed against her, all the while nibbling tiny kisses on her throat.

Zanita was wearing one of the long Indian dresses she preferred lately. The soft, gauzy material traveled well.

Apparently it crushed well, too, as Tyber gathered a handful of the material in his fist and easily lifted the back of her loose dress. His other hand skillfully slipped her panties down her legs. After that she heard the distinct rasp of his zipper.

"What do you think you are doing?" she asked dryly.

"Tai chi," was the flippant response. He bit the back of her neck.

"You can't! We're facing the window! Someone will see us!"

"Maybe. Maybe not." A very hot tongue licked the side of her throat in a slow tasting. "It is dark out there and we are facing the back, but I suppose if someone was walking out there…"

His tongue dipped under the back neckline of her dress as his hands came around to her front. Under cover of the fabric, he cupped her breasts. The pads of his thumbs scraped across her nipples, flicking them instantly into two swollen nubs.

Zanita swallowed. The Captain was taking the helm. Part one of the attack. But what if someone saw them? "Tyber, are you crazy? We—" The hard length of him slid coaxingly over her bottom like a brush of satin-coated steel. "Ohhhh…"

Instinctively she stood on tiptoe.

Then blushed when she realized what she was doing.

The man was turning her into a textbook case of Pavlovian response! A brush of his lips and she opened her mouth. A low growl from him and she was purring. This was not good. Pirates never have inhibitions. She started to squirm.

"Shhh… just keep the front of your dress down and no one will be the wiser." He smiled wickedly against the skin of her throat. "Lean forward for me, baby."

"Wh-what?" He positioned her forward himself. She sucked in her breath as she felt him slide between the backs of her thighs.

He captured her small hand in his and brought it down to the front of her dress where he let it skim across the juncture of her thighs. The supple material rustled over her and him. The velvet tip of him was between her legs. Zanita sucked in her breath.

"Did you say you wanted spontaneity, baby?" His white teeth nipped her shoulder. Then the rogue teased her by flexing snugly against her curls. Spontaneously.

"I'm sure no one will be expecting us to do this."

It took a moment for Zanita to digest what he was saying. "Doc, you can't be serious—"

"Mmmm-hmmm. Think of it as cause and affect."

"Isn't that cause and effect?"

"Nope. I cause…" He sank solidly into her from behind. Zanita cried out. Something between surprise and ecstasy. "… You affect."

"I can't believe you're doing this!" She wiggled on him.

"Why not?" He flexed firmly inside her.

"Because…" She stopped for a moment. Was that a light flickering in the distance? Her nose pressed against the glass pane. "Is someone out there?" What if it was one of the guests or Todd? "Oh, god, Tyber, you have to stop!"

"Uh-uh." His hand dropped between her legs. Soon he was teasing her nether lips with feather-light strokes of his fingers. Meanwhile, the tip of his manhood withdrew to pulse lightly against her feminine core, just barely teasing at the portal. He was so hot.

Hot and ready.

Her dewy moisture immediately covered him, and he used the liquid silk to lubricate his entire shaft by continuing to slide forward against her but not in her. Zanita could feel the cold rasp of his metal zipper as it scraped against her buttocks. The combination of his burning heat and those cold metal teeth, his stroking fingers and biting lips, was enough to send her right into a sharp, swift release.