Celebrity in Death

thing.” He gave her a finger flick on the head.
    “Okay, okay. It’s too big for jewelry, so I probably won’t lose it. It’s clothes because everything I used to have is rag fodder. It’s something nice.” She gave the ribbon a tug. “So I’ll probably destroy it at work, then Summerset’ll give me the hairy eyeball. Which is just one of the reasons I wish you wouldn’t—
    “Oh …” There was a flavor to the sound she made, as a woman might make eating soft, creamy chocolate. “Nice.”
    She had a weakness for leather and rich colors, which he knew verywell. When she pulled the jacket out of the box, he saw the deep, burnished bronze suited her just as well as he’d hoped. It would hit her mid-thigh, and fall very straight. The deep, slash pockets—reinforced—would hold everything she needed to carry. The buttons on the front, and on the decorative belt in the back, were in the shape of her badge.
    “It’s great.” She pushed her face against it, inhaling the scent. “Really great. I love the coat you got me last year.” Even as she spoke she rubbed her cheek against the leather. “I really don’t need—”
    “Consider this one a transition. The other’s long and for colder weather. You can wear this now. Try it on.”
    She saw the label. “Leonardo did it, so it’s going to fit—ha ha—like it was made for me. Look at the buttons!”
    “We thought you’d like that.”
    Yes, he thought, it fit her perfectly, suited her perfectly—the color, the cut, the subtle embellishments. When she turned toward him, the hem swirled around her thighs.
    “It feels great, too. No pull in the shoulders because of my weapon harness.” She slid a hand inside, drew her weapon smoothly, and smoothly replaced it. “It doesn’t get in the way.”
    “There’s a knife sheath worked into the lining—right side as you prefer the cross-draw, and use your right hand for your main weapon.”
    “No shit.” She opened the jacket, checked. Mimed by crossing her arms, and drawing both gun and imaginary knife simultaneously. “Handy. Pretty damn handy. What’s with this lining? It feels sort of dense. It’s not heavy, but it doesn’t feel like coat lining.”
    “Something we’ve been working on in R and D for a while.” He crossed to her, ran his fingers over the lining himself. “It’s body armor.”
    “Get out.” Her forehead creased as she examined it more closely. “It’s too thin and light. Plus it moves.”
    “Trust me, it’s been thoroughly tested. Leonardo was able to take thematerial and fashion it into the coat. It will block a stun on full, though you’ll feel the impact. It’ll protect from a blaster, though the leather would suffer. And it will block a blade—though again, pity about the leather.”
    “Seriously?” She pulled her weapon again, offered it. “Try it.”
    He had to laugh even as he thought:
Typical. Just typical.
“I will not.”
    “Not very confident in your research and development.”
    “I’m not firing a stunner at my wife in our bedroom.”
    “We can go downstairs to the range.”
    “Eve.” With a shake of his head, he guided her hand back until she holstered the weapon. “Trust me. It’s been tested. You have the prototype in a very flattering and fashionable form. We’ll be moving into production shortly, and negotiating with the NYPSD to be the first police force so equipped—not as fashionably, of course.”
    “It’s like nothing else. And it really moves.” She tested by going into a crouch, a spin, trying a side kick. “Doesn’t hamper range of motion or—” It struck her then.
    “You said you’ve been working on it awhile.”
    “It takes time to develop something new, and one that fits specific requirements.”
    “How long a while?”
    He smiled a little. “Oh, I’d say about two and a half years. Since I fell for a cop.”
    “For me.”
    “For me as well. I want to keep you.” When she reached up, laid a hand on his cheek, he took her wrist, turned her palm to his lips. “We were close, but I pushed a bit in the last few weeks.”
    “Since Dallas.”
    “He hurt you. I realize you wouldn’t have been wearing body armorwhen McQueen attacked you in our hotel room, but all the same. He hurt you and I wasn’t there.”
    “You were there when I needed you. I beat him, again, but I nearly lost myself.”
    “You wouldn’t have.”
    “All I know is you were there when I needed you. I don’t know if I could’ve