‘We need to find the wretched murderer,’ she said, softly.
‘Is there truly no one to be found in Connor’s list of those with access to Sam’s house that day?’
‘I fear not. None with any motive to harm him.’
‘Coin, perhaps? Or loyalties elsewhere?’ I put down my glass.
‘Straws.’
‘Che cosa? Forgive me, I don’t understand.’
Che cosa?‘We’re clutching at them, like those men about to drown.’ She smiled, seeing my puzzlement, still. Then she touched my face, feather light. ‘Your English is so good, despite your accent, I forget.’
That touch was enough. I leaned in then to kiss her, knowing straightaway she had been kissed before. I found the simple clip that held up her hair and let it down to cloak her like wheaten silk. Sweet Christ, I desired her and that until now would be enough. But
