“Yeah, we’re working together on a special project?”
“What sort of special project?”
“That’s confidential I’m afraid, Detective Connolly,” Ash replied. He’d dropped Jess’s hand and was holding his own out toward her. She didn’t want to take it, but she could hardly ignore him. Taking the final step to close the space between them, she slipped her hand into the outstretched one.
A tingle of electricity ran through her arm. His eyes widened slightly, and she knew he’d felt it as well. Then his lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile. “How nice to meet you, Detective. May I call you Faith? I feel we’re already friends I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Back off, Ash,” Ryan growled, before she could answer.
Ash grinned but dropped her hand. Barely resisting the urge to wipe it down her pants leg to get rid of the sensation, Faith cleared her throat. “So,” she said. “Your friend, Rosamund Fairfax—will she talk to Jess?”
Ryan stared past her over her shoulder. “She’s here now. You can ask her yourself.”
Faith swung around. Two women had entered the reception area through a door in the back wall. Both were short, one slender with blond hair and green eyes. Faith had never seen her before, but she sensed Ash stiffen beside her and gave him a quick sideways glance. He was staring at the blonde, a strange, almost sad, expression on his face.
The second woman had short, spiky, dark hair and a sweet smile. Faith recognized her from the night they’d found Jess. And she realized now she had a chance to study her, that she’d actually seen her before, on other occasions, at the station talking with Ryan. Why had he never introduced them?
She headed directly to Jess and hugged her hard. Then she straightened and smiled. “So what’s going on?”
“Perhaps some more introductions are in order,” Faith said. She wanted to get these people organized in her head and she wanted confirmation this was Rosamund Fairfax. And who the blonde was who studiously ignored Ash, but smiled at Ryan.
Ryan sighed and stepped forward. “Faith, this is Rosamund Fairfax and Tara Roth.”
Tara Roth? Christian Roth’s wife perhaps?
“Faith is a detective with the metropolitan police force, and my ex-partner.”
Faith shook hands with them both. “Ms. Fairfax—”
“Call me Roz,” the dark-haired woman interrupted. “I hear you wanted to see me?”
“Actually, Jess wanted to talk to you.”
“You said you would come and see me again,” Jess said. “You never came.”
“I’m sorry,” Roz replied. “For a while I thought I was moving away. I didn’t want to call in case I had to leave.”
“And why would you have to leave, Ms. Fairfax?” Faith asked.
Roz smiled, her eyes showing genuine amusement. “Roz. Just the possibility of a job offer, Detective. It didn’t come to anything.” She turned to Jess. “Come with me. We’ll get some coffee and find somewhere to talk.”
“Thank you,” Jess said.
They headed off. Faith made to follow. She really wanted to hear this conversation, but Ryan stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Let them talk alone,” he said. “It will do Jess good. Besides, we need to talk.”
For a second she thought about arguing, but then she halted and watched as Jess and Roz paused by the reception desk and spoke to the red-haired man, before disappearing through the door behind him.
Faith sighed. Ryan was right and she could only hope Jess would have something new to tell her when they spoke again.
“And I’m going to go find Christian,” Tara said. “Nice to meet you, Faith.” She nodded to Ryan but ignored Ash. Was there something going on between the two of them?
“Let’s go to my place,” Ryan said. “We can talk there.” He turned to Ash. “Haven’t you got something to do?”
“No.”
“So find something,” Ryan snapped.
As Faith followed him to the elevator, she could sense Ash’s gaze on her and the skin on her back prickled. Ryan pressed the button for the fifteenth floor, the doors slid shut, and she relaxed.
“You live here?” she asked.
“Yeah, I got the place with the job. It’s convenient.”
“I bet.” This place was right in the middle of the business district. She didn’t even want to think about how much an apartment would cost to rent here. Faith had a grueling one-hour commute each day from her tiny apartment into Scotland Yard.
Ryan was doing extremely well. While she’d have sworn he wasn’t the type to be swayed by money, maybe everybody had a price and they’d found Ryan’s.
He led her into a spacious living area with huge windows along one wall, which gave a spectacular view of the city of London. “Nice,” she murmured.
“It is. Look, are you really all right?” he asked. “Did they find what was wrong with you that night?”