... and I was enjoying it up until too swift of a turn into Romancelandia.
The popularity of Naked in Death
is completely understandable to me. The attraction here is the same as in the most of urban fantasy IMO. Mystery-solving, some world-building (in this case, futuristic instead of paranormal) - it all is only background noise. What you are actually anticipating is the heroine's hookup with some handsome hunk. (That's what I read urban fantasy for anyway.) And the hunk here is something special - (1) he is drowning in money; (2) super hot; (3) has morals; (4) buys the heroine stuff; (5) feeds her; (6) he adores everything about the heroine from the get-go; (7), (8), (9) and (10) HE SPEAKS WITH AN IRISH ACCENT. What's not to like, right?
Unfortunately, Roarke never managed to work his magic on me. I thought he was controlling, patronizing, stalkerish even, always forcing Eve out of her comfort zone and himself on her (in that signature way - I am going to make you have the most intense orgasm you've ever had, no matter if you want it or not, because I know what you need better than you
Plus, as I've noted above, the switch from mystery to romance was too early in the book. Quarter in, second meeting, and already "her small, firm breast weighed gloriously in his palm" and "he wanted to forget the patience and control he'd taught himself to live by, and just ravage." This bodice-ripperish language totally killed my mood. At that point, I already knew how it would unfold, with "throbbing," "wetness," "I want you but I can't" and so on.
Sorry ladies, but romance is not quite my thing.