In Death 03 - Immortal in Death

skin stretched tight as a drumhead over razor-edged cheekbones. He had a small, glinting stone winking beside his flashing grin and eyes like gold coins.
    He swirled Mavis into his arms, off her feet, and around in one fast and graceful circle. And he kissed her, long, hard, and in a fashion that warned Eve the two of them had a great deal more going on than a mutual love of fashion and art.
    "Leonardo." Beaming like a fool, Mavis ran her gold-tipped fingers through his tight, shoulder-length curls.
    "Babydoll."
    Eve managed not to gag as they cooed at each other, but she did roll her eyes. She was stuck now, without a doubt. Mavis was in love again.
    "The hair, it's wonderful." Leonardo ran loving fingers, the size of soydogs, through Mavis's streaked mop.
    "I hoped you'd like it. This..." There was a dramatic pause, as though she were about to introduce her awardwinning schnauzer. "Is Dallas."
    "Ah yes, the bride. Lovely to meet you, Lieutenant Dallas." He kept one arm around Mavis and shot the other out to take Eve's hand. "Mavis has told me so much about you."
    "Yeah." Eve slanted a look toward her friend. "She's been a little light on details on you."
    He laughed, a booming sound that made Eve's ears ring even as her lips twitched in response. "My turtledove can be secretive. Refreshments," he stated, then whirled off in a cloud of color and unexpected grace.
    "He's wonderful, isn't he?" Mavis whispered, eyes dancing with love.
    "You're sleeping with him."
    "You wouldn't believe how... inventive he is. How..." Mavis blew out a breath, patted her breast. "The man is a sexual artist."
    "I don't want to hear about it. Absolutely don't want to hear about it." Drawing her brows together, Eve scanned the room.
    It was wide, high ceilinged, and crowded with flows and streams of material. Fuchsia rainbows, ebony waterfalls, chartreuse pools dripped from the ceiling, along the walls, over tabletops and arms of chairs.
    "Jesus," was all she could manage.
    Bowls and trays of glittering ribbons, tapes, and buttons were piled everywhere. Sashes, belts, hats, and veils crowded with half-finished outfits of shimmering materials and studded bodices.
    The place smelled like an incense farm married to a flower shop.
    She was terrified.
    A little pale, Eve turned back. "Mavis, I love you. Maybe I haven't told you that before, but I do. Now I'm leaving."
    "Dallas." With a quick giggle, Mavis grabbed her arm. For a small woman, Mavis was amazingly strong. "Relax. Take a breath. I guarantee Leonardo's going to fix you up."
    "That's what I'm afraid of, Mavis. Deeply afraid."
    "Lemon tea, iced," Leonardo announced with a musical lilt as he came back through a curtain of draping simulated silk with a tray and glasses. "Please, please, sit. First we'll relax, get to know each other."
    With her eye on the door, Eve edged toward a chair. "Look, Leonardo, Mavis might not have explained things, exactly. See, I'm -- "
    "You're a homicide detective. I've read about you," Leonardo said smoothly, snuggling on a curve-sided settee with Mavis all but in his lap. "Your last case generated a great deal of media. I must confess I was fascinated. You work with puzzles, Lieutenant, as I do."
    Eve sampled the tea, nearly blinked when she discovered it was full-bodied, rich, and wonderful. "You work with puzzles?"
    "Naturally. I see a woman, I imagine how I would like to see her dressed. Then I must discover who she is, what she is, how does she live her life. What are her hopes, her fantasies, her vision of herself? Then I must take all of that, piece each part of her together to create the look. The image. At first, she is a mystery, and I'm compelled to solve her."
    Unashamed, Mavis sighed lustily. "Isn't he mag, Dallas?"
    Leonardo chuckled, nuzzled Mavis's ear. "Your friend is worried, my dove. She think I'll wrap her in electric pink and spangles."
    "It sounds wonderful."
    "For you." He beamed back at Eve. "So you're going to marry the elusive and powerful Roarke."
    "It looks that way," Eve muttered.
    "You met him on a case. The DeBlass case, correct? And intrigued him with your tawny eyes and serious smile."
    "I wouldn't say I -- "
    "You wouldn't," Leonardo continued, "because you don't see yourself as he does. Or as I do. Strong, valiant, troubled, dependable."
    "Are you a designer or an analyst?" Eve demanded.
    "You can't be one without the other. Tell me, lieutenant, how did Roarke win you?"
    "I'm not a prize." She snapped it, then set her glass