Santa Reads Romance (11 page)

He turned back to the class. “Along with Ms. Masterson's definition, Chaos is also a behavior. This behavior has three properties: It is ergodic; it occurs in systems with a few degrees of freedom; and it displays sensitive dependence on initial conditions.”

“Excuse me.
“ Zanita spoke up. “But what does this have to do with healing?”

Tyber stared at her, speechless for a moment. He couldn't recall that ever happening to him before. “Nothing.”

He was giving her that look again. “Oh.” She thought about it a moment. “Are you talking about crystals?” Psychics seemed to be enamored of crystals.

The man suddenly became very interested. “In what manner?”

“Well … I hear the vibrations …”

He jumped on her words. “You mean the resonance? I hadn't thought about that before. Go on,” he urged her.

“I— I— “ She threw up her hands, at a loss. “They transmit energy?”

He looked at her, astonished. “That's brilliant!”

Zanita scrunched her shoulders and warily glanced around the room. She had no idea what he had been talking about, and now she had no idea what
she
had been talking about. But he thought he knew what she was talking about.

The man was a kook.

She peeked at him. A gorgeous kook, but a kook. Time to leave.

She started to stand, adjusting the shoulder strap on her bag. “Look, I— ”

He walked purposely towards her, his glance briefly flicking to her legs. At least
he
noticed; the thought danced at the back of her mind. At the forefront of her mind was getting away from this nutcake pronto.

“You realize that pendulum action is quite different, even when— why are you backing up the stairs?”

“I really,
really
have to go. You see, I didn't realize psychic healing was so intense, and I— ”

“Psychic healing?
“ There it was again. That speechless sensation. He focused on her with interest now. “This is a physics seminar.”

She looked totally confused, and, he had to admit, rather adorable.

“How did you— “ His eyes twinkled in sudden amusement as he correctly assessed the situation. “Ahh. Not much of a speller, are you?”

Zanita blanched. “Physics?” she mouthed.

“Physics,” he affirmed.

“Yuck!” She quickly looked at him. “I'm sorry, that just sort of— slipped out, Mr. Evans. I mean, Mr. Doctor— I mean, Dr. Evans.” God, she sounded like a total jerk! Now the man was laughing at her!

He grinned, flashing her a dimple. “Tyber will do.”

The whole class started laughing. Zanita wanted to crawl up the stairs and out the door. She started backing up the stairs again, feeling like a complete idiot. Tyber Evans just kept on advancing, totally enjoying the situation.

“You, Ms. Masterson, are unpredictable— what we physicists would call a random element. Very interesting …”

“Random element! Thanks a lot. You make me sound like some— some— ”

Tyber raised an eyebrow as if daring her to complete the sentence accurately.
Arrogant
kook. She raised her chin in the air. “If you'll excuse me?”

“Not so fast.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. “Not much on physics, are you?”

She stopped a moment to get her bearings. The sight of him leaning against the wall, smiling devilishly at her, had unnerved her.
Jeez, he was gorgeous.
She twisted a curl of her hair, a habit she had when nervous. “Well …”

“Hmm … as I suspected.” He tapped his chin with a forefinger. “You know, I could open up a whole new universe for you. Why don't you stay for the course? I realize much of this won't mean anything to you, but you might pick up some intriguing ideas along the way. Much better than psychic healing classes. Of course, I'm prejudiced.”

The man was asking her to stay in the class. Physics …
bor-r-ring.
How was she going to politely refuse this paragon in front of all these people? She decided to hedge and give him a way out. “I don't know. It's a little … dry.”

His eyes sparkled. She knew right then he was not going to take the bait.

“
Dry?
Now you've challenged me, Zanita. I'm going to show you how
exciting
it can be.”

He was talking about physics, wasn't he? By his expression, she wasn't so sure. Well, she had given him his out and he chose not to take it. “Thanks a lot, but— ”

“No thanks necessary. The joy is in the teaching.” His eyes danced as if they held secrets he would be more than willing to share with her. He came up on the same step and placed a warm hand at her back, gently but firmly urging her back to her seat.

“It's like this: you blundered in here, now we're going to keep you. Right, lads?” He addressed the class at large.

The class heartily concurred. Not that Zanita expected them to do anything else. It was obvious that the sun rose and set on this man as far as they were concerned.

Stan turned in his seat, grinning up at her. “You're stuck with us, Zanita.”

She turned to look up at Tyber, who stood over her shoulder. He knew very well he had cornered her.

He winked! Who was he to …

She suddenly remembered where she had heard his name before.

Tyberius Augustus Evans was a brilliant, renowned eccentric, who held thousands of patents on various devices and was sought out by heads of state, scientists, business corporations, research facilities— in short, by anyone who thought they could get something from him. His explorations, which he conducted in the privacy of his walled estate, took him down various paths of endeavor. From what she remembered, some were sublime; some seemed to her sort of silly. But who was she to judge? The general consensus was that everything he produced displayed the rare genius he was known for.

What else could she recall? Ah, yes. He worked strictly by himself; in other words, he did not owe his soul to the company store. He guarded his privacy, and he never,
never
, gave an interview.

She smiled slowly at him.
Random element, indeed.

The information she needed on psychic healing she could pick up elsewhere. She still fully intended to investigate Xavier LaLeche, but a class on psychic healing wasn't anywhere near as important as the possibility of gaining an interview with this man.

In a lightning display of deductive reasoning that would have fascinated Tyber had he been aware of it, Zanita calculated her chances. There was no real decision to make.

“I'll stay.” The class applauded, but she barely noticed. Her sights were on Tyberius Augustus Evans.

Tyber narrowed his eyes slightly as he studied the woman in front of him. She had the look of his cat. Yes, when the cat was about to do something very cunning.

Tyber smiled to himself. He always loved a mystery.

He knew exactly what to do next.

The first step was to test the water. As she was taking her seat, he decided to shake her up a bit. Just to get it rolling.

“I'm going to follow up on that idea of yours.”

She looked up at him in horror. Had he seen through her already? “What idea?” Her voice wavered.

“Vibration.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Energy.” His warm breath tickled the side of her neck.
“Resonance …”

She swallowed nervously, refusing to look at him. It was uncomfortably obvious to Zanita that for whatever reason, the man had taken up the challenge.

It was also obvious that he intended to enjoy it.

She sighed as her earlier conversation with Mills passed through her mind. Here was the perfect justification for her convictions. Damn, but he had a mischievous look on his handsome face.

Nothing was ever simple when a man was involved.

Boil them in oil.

“That is why, in later years, Newton was responsible for send-ing several men to their death on the gallows. We physicists don't get mad; we get even.”

The class laughed appreciatively at what Zanita suspected was in-house humor.

“Those of you who know me,” Tyber went on, “know that I'm not much for a structured academic environment. What say we meet tomorrow night at Mickey D's on Route Nine?”

“The playground?” someone yelled out from the back of the room, making everyone laugh.

Tyber grinned. “Not a bad idea, but I'd hate to have to defend my place in line at the slide— some of those kids are meaner than I am. I think inside should be acceptable. How many of you can make it?” Almost the whole class raised their hands. Zanita was a noticeable exception.

“That many. I don't think we should have too much of a problem, as it's after the dinner hour. Okay, so tomorrow night— same time, different location.” The class applauded the lecture as they vacated their seats.

Tyber's icy eyes lit on Zanita. “Ms. Masterson. I wonder if I might have a few words with you before you leave?”

Zanita, who had been slinging her bag over her shoulder, looked up in surprise and nodded.

Tyber, having got her consent, turned to a colleague who was asking him a question.

By the time Zanita made her way to the front, Dr. Evans was already surrounded by a group of sycophants who were panting around him like starving academic dogs— not that she wouldn't have liked to pant around him as well, but for entirely different reasons.

She waited patiently toward the back of the small crowd for the intellectual fallout to clear. After about fifteen minutes, Zanita started getting impatient, as the adoring masses did not seem to be thinning out. She was weighing the prospect of leaving against the slim chance of gaining an interview this evening when Tyber glanced her way and skillfully called a halt to the chit-chat, promising to continue the discussion tomorrow evening.

The room emptied so fast, you might have thought an air raid siren had gone off.

Of course, these guys would have gone
toward
ground zero, not away from it.

Zanita smiled to herself; it had certainly been an interesting evening.

Tyber folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the desk. “You didn't like the class, did you?”

Zanita was surprised. “Why do you say that?” She thought she had managed to hide her confusion very well.

“You didn't raise your hand when I asked who could make it tomorrow evening. And there was that other thing …”

“What other thing?”

“The way you kept crossing your eyes whenever I drew an illustration on the board.”

Zanita cleared her throat. “All right, I'll admit I wasn't overly enthused, but I did warn you.” She threw her arms up. “Frankly, I had no idea what you were talking about.”

“So, just because you were lost in a fog you're not coming tomorrow? Really, what kind of a reason is that? Most people go through their whole lives not understanding a damn thing. In that context, what's a few evenings spent in my lectures by comparison?”

His obtuse reasoning completely escaped her. She blinked. “What?”

“Tomorrow will be quite different— I promise. No mathematics of any kind. That's why I suggested the restaurant; not having blackboards will keep it honest.” His smile was heart-stopping.

She decided then and there that nothing would keep her from going tomorrow night— interview or not. What sane woman would forego the pleasure of discreetly ogling him? Besides, whatever made him think she wouldn't come?

“I never said I wasn't coming. You assumed that because my hand didn't go up when you expected it to. I had every intention of going; I just wasn't in the mood to admit it.”

Tyber stared at her, speechless. Again. When he did speak, his voice held a note of awe. “You are completely non-linear, Zanita.”

She waved her hand. “I have no idea what that means, but I suspect it has something to do with the mysterious face of Mars looks I get— see? Like that one you're wearing now.”

“Fascinating,” he muttered. “So, you are coming?”

“Yeah. See ya tomorrow night, Doc.” She waved goodbye as she headed quickly up the stairs, before Tyber had a chance to say another word.

It wasn't until she got to her car that she wondered why it mattered to him whether she showed up or not.

“Mills, he is to die for.”

Zanita plowed her fork into the carton of Chinese take-out she had brought over to her friend's house.

“We are talking about the physicist, aren't we?” Mills asked around an eggroll. “Somehow I can't quite picture— ”

“Trust me. To Die For. Of course I can't figure out what he's talking about half the time. I mean, you'd have to be a rocket scientist to understand— ”

“He
is
a rocket scientist.” Mills pointed out.

“Oh, yeah.” Zanita shrugged. “At any rate, this is the best assignment I've ever had. If he would grant me an interview, just think— ”

“He's not an assignment.”

Zanita looked at her. “Well, no, not exactly …”

“What makes you think he'll give you an interview when he's turned down everyone else? No offense, Zanita, but you're not exactly Edward R. Murrow, or even Barbara Walters, or for that matter Yolanda Neade.” Yolanda Neade was a ditsy local newscaster on a non-network-affiliated television station. Mills wasn't pulling any punches.

“This is true, but I have something they don't have.”

Mills looked at her friend askance. “What, pray tell, is that?”

Zanita batted her eyelashes. “I am
non-linear.
“

“Say what?”

“I have no idea, either, but Doc Evans seemed very interested in it.”

Mills snorted. “Uh-huh. As Whoopi said, 'Girl, you in danger'.”

Zanita grinned. “I wish. Believe me, the man is odd. Gorgeous, but odd. The most I can hope for is an interview with him. And I would be more than satisfied with that.”

“Satisfied is the operative word here. Maybe he's the one.”

Zanita swallowed a cashew. “The one what?”

“To
befuddle
you.”

“Befuddle me as in make me crazy, roll around in the hay, knock my socks off, befuddle?” Mills nodded lecherously. “Tyber? I don't think so. I mean, he does have a body that won't quit, and he is sexy beyond words, but …”