"I haven't thought about a trousseau. I've got clothes."

"Lieutenant Dallas has clothes," he corrected. "Roarke's partner in marriage will need others."

"Maybe we can make a deal." She wanted that damn dress, she realized. She could feel it on her.

"Wonderful. Take off your clothes."

She snapped back like a spring. "Okay, asshole – "

"For the measurements," Leonardo said quickly. The look in her eye had him rising, stepping back. He was a man who adored women, and understood their wrath. In other words, he feared them. "You must consider me as you would your health provider. I can't design the dress properly until I know your body. I'm an artist, and a gentleman," he said with dignity. "But Mavis can stay if you feel uneasy."

Eve tilted her head. "I can handle you, pal. If you get out of line, even think about it, you'll find out for yourself."

"I'm sure of it." Cautiously he picked up a device. "My scanner," he explained. "It will measure you very accurately. But you have to be naked for a true reading."

"Stop snickering, Mavis. Go get us some more of that tea."

"Sure. I've already seen you naked, anyway." Blowing kisses to Leonardo, she headed off.

"I have other ideas… about clothes," Leonardo said when Eve narrowed her eyes. "The underfoundation for the dress, of course. Evening and day wear, the formal, the casual. Your honeymoon is where?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it." Resigned, she took off her shoes, unhitched her jeans.

"Roarke will surprise you then. Computer, create file, Dallas, first doc, measurements, coloring, height, and weight." After she'd tossed her shirt aside, he stepped forward with the scanner. "Feet together please. Height, five foot nine inches, weight, one hundred and twenty."

"How long have you been sleeping with Mavis?"

He rattled off more data. "About two weeks. She's very dear to me. Waist twenty-six point two inches."