huge and new. “What do you think?” I settle for saying.
He steps back and looks around, and when he turns back to me, his eyes are shining. “I love it so far,” he says.
“Really?”
He grins, looking suddenly very young. “It just feels right.” He trails off before gazing around again. “It feels like it’s been waiting for us,” he whispers, and I draw nearer, loving the way his arm comes around my waist and pulls me closer. “That makes me sound like a twat,” he mutters.
“No, I feel the same,” I interrupt quickly. “I love the setting.”
He stares at me, and his grin widens.
Julian approaches, saying, “Penny’s in Fowey, so she should be here any minute.”
“How much is this up for?” Gideon asks, his tone decisive.
“One and a half million,” Julian says, looking at his phone. “It would be worth a lot more, but the previous owner died years ago, and his estate was locked in a will dispute, so the place went downhill.”
My heart sinks immediately. I thought for some wild moment it might be cheaper, because it’s so run down. That makes me the idiot because property like this is never cheap.
Gideon frowns at me, and I bite my lip as a small Kia barrels up the driveway and parks in a flurry of gravel. A young blonde woman gets out and smiles widely at Julian as he walks towards her.
She says something to him, and he comes back to give the keys to Gideon. “I just need a word with Penny, so you go in, Gid, and have a look around.”
Gideon takes the keys from him and shoots me an apologetic look, but I shrug and walk to the door, waiting for him to open it. I inhale the spicy vanilla scent of him when he stands close.
He throws the door open and gestures theatrically to me. “Beauty before age, my darling.”
I shake my head at him and walk in. The house smells of dust and age, and everywhere there is peeling paper and awful coloured paintwork. But the flooring, although dusty, is made of wide wooden floorboards and the windows are huge.
We pace through the large, empty rooms that are splashed with sunshine, and his hand finds mine in the stillness. The staircase is wide, and I scrape my fingernail on the cracking paint. “Bet this is pine,” I say. “Victorian house builders used that a lot.”
“How do you know?” he asks, smiling at me curiously.
“When I was in hospital, I watched a lot of afternoon TV. Some things stay with you.”
“Hopefully not Jeremy Kyle.” He shudders. There’s a smile in his voice, but his fingers caress my shoulder where the bullet hit me, and his eyes are dark.
We move upstairs, finding six bedrooms and a huge old bathroom with what looks like the original fittings.
“Jesus,” he says, shuddering. “That’d be the first room to be done.”
I smile and pass into one of the bedrooms. It has double doors that lead out onto a small balcony. It has a view of a long overgrown garden that runs down to the river.
Gideon peers into the adjacent room, and then comes to stand beside me. “The next bedroom is tiny. We could go down to five bedrooms and use that one as an en suite for us.”
I lean back against the wall and sigh. “Gideon, this is over a million pounds of property,” I whisper. “And probably a lot more with all the work that needs doing to it.”
“And your point is?”
“You know my point. So being sarcastic is obviously not something to try.”
“Oh, and petulant comments are?” The sudden heat in his voice surprises me because he’s usually so calm with me. Well, they say everyone has a boiling point, and I think I’ve found his.
“Don’t call me petulant,” I say loudly, straightening my spine. “Where the fuck did that come from? I’m as entitled to my opinions as you fucking are. And dismissing them as petulant is not exactly the way to have a relationship with me.”
“And being determined to have your own way is?” he says just as loudly. “Because if we do as you say, I’ll have the fucking paparazzi sitting on my lap when we eat dinner.”
“Well, there must be a middle ground,” I hiss. “Somewhere between Midas levels and the hovels that I’m obviously forcing you into.”
“Oh, please,” he huffs. “Grow the fuck up.”
“Oh right, so I’m childish now? Lovely. It’s juvenile to want a say in where I live and how