Jenna shaded her eyes and stared up towards the top of the lighthouse. ‘It’s incredible. I can’t believe it’s a house.’
‘It used to be fairly basic, but I made a few changes.’ Ryan opened the door and she walked through, into a beautiful circular kitchen.
‘Oh, my!’ Stunned, she glanced around her. It was stylish and yet comfortable, with a huge range cooker, an American fridge and a central island for preparing food. By the window overlooking the sea the owner had placed a table, ensuring that anyone eating there could enjoy the fantastic view. ‘A few changes?’
‘Quite a few changes.’ Ryan leaned against the doorframe, watching her reaction. ‘Do you like it?’
‘I love it. I had no idea—from the outside it looks…’ Lost for words, she shook her head. ‘It’s idyllic.’
‘Do you want breakfast now, or after you’ve looked round?’
‘After…’
‘Oh, yes—objection number four.’ He gave a faint smile and urged her towards an arched doorway and a spiral staircase. ‘I put you off your food. I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me why? I don’t think I’ve ever made a woman feel sick before.’
She giggled. ‘You don’t make me feel sick. You make me sort of churny in my stomach.’
‘Sort of churny?’ He lifted an eyebrow at her description. ‘Is that good or bad?’
‘Good, if you’re trying to lose weight.’
‘Don’t. I like you the way you are.’ He was right behind her on the stairs and it was impossible not to be aware that it was just the two of them in the house.
‘So no one overlooks this?’
‘It’s a very inhospitable part of the coast of Glenmore—hence the reason they built a lighthouse here originally. This is the living room.’
Jenna emerged into another large, circular room, with high ceilings and glass walls. It had been decorated to reflect its coastal surroundings, with white wooden floors, seagrass matting and deep white sofas. Touches of blue added colour and elegant pieces of driftwood added style. A wood-burning stove stood in the centre of the room. ‘This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen. I can’t imagine what it must be like to actually live somewhere as special as this.’
‘It was virtually a shell when I bought it from the original owner.’ Ryan strolled over to the window, his back to her. ‘It took me a year to make it properly habitable.’
‘Where did you live while you were renovating it?’
‘I lived here. Amidst the rubble.’
‘You did most of it yourself?’
?
??All of it except the glazing. I used a lot of glass and it was too heavy for one person to manipulate.’
Stunned, she looked around her. ‘You did the building—the plumbing, electricity?’
‘I’m a doctor,’ he drawled. ‘I’m used to connecting pipes and electrical circuits. Building a wall isn’t so different to realigning a broken bone—basically you need the thing straight.’
Jenna shook her head in silent admiration and carried on up the spiral staircase. She pushed open a door and discovered a luxurious bathroom, complete with drench shower. Another door revealed a small guest bedroom. Deciding that she’d never seen a more perfect property in her life, Jenna took the final turn in the staircase and found herself in paradise.
The master bedroom had been designed to take maximum advantage of the incredible view, with acres of glass giving a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree outlook on Glenmore.
Speechless, Jenna walked slowly around the perimeter of the breathtaking room. Out of the corner of her eye she was conscious of the enormous bed, but she was also acutely conscious of Ryan, watching her from the head of the spiral staircase. The intimacy was unfamiliar and exciting.
Hardly able to breathe, she stared out across the sparkling sea, watching as the view changed with every step. Far beneath her were vicious rocks that must have sent so many boats tumbling to the bottom of the ocean, but a few paces on and she had a perfect view of the coast path, winding like a ribbon along the grassy flanks of the island. A few more steps and she was looking inland, across wild moorland shaded purple with heather.
‘It’s like living outside.’
‘That was the idea.’
‘I can see everything,’ she whispered, ‘except people. No people.’