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house. When Dad agreed to the idea of me converting the stables into living accommodation, he also gave me free rein of how to design the place. For weeks I sat with the architect and listened to her ideas and explained what I envisioned. My home turned out perfect. We entered through the front door, the space was completely open. The boarding on the ceiling had been removed so the rafters showed. Skylights had been fitted to allow more light into the space, but it wasn’t necessary as there was a full wall of Velux retractable doors, which opened fully to make it seem like the back of the house belonged to the garden.
    The vaulted ceiling in the open plan lounge and kitchen made it feel so light and airy. I had it painted a super pale lemon, with white-wash wood. The kitchen units were white, so the entire space was bright and clean. To contrast the pale colours, my kitchen work surfaces were black granite, and my floors deep cherry wood.
    Hercules scampered across the floor to his bowl and jumped around as he waited for his food. I giggled and headed over to him.
    “Two secs, I will feed him then give you a tour.” When Ryan didn’t answer, I glanced over my shoulder. He was gazing up at the ceiling, his mouth slightly parted.
    “It seems bright, like we haven’t even come inside.” His words were quiet, but I heard them. He wandered to the glass wall of doors. “Do these open?”
    My lips curled happily. I reached over the counter to the control panel on the wall, and the door folded into a concertina, bringing the outside in. You could also open them manually without having to fold all of them.
    “Cool.” He chuckled, and he stepped forward so he was on the border of the house and the garden. He sucked in a deep breath.
    “You do that a lot.” I grinned, filling Hercules bowl.
    “What’s that?”
    “Take in deep breaths, as if you haven’t been outside for a long time.”
    His cheeks reddened, but he quickly averted his gaze. “I suppose in some respects I haven’t. I love the smell of the trees and whatever that other smell is.”
    “It’s wild garlic. Not everyone can stomach it.”
    “It’s fresh.”
    I bobbed my head. “Would you like to see the rest of the house? You haven’t seen the best yet,” I said hopefully, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
    “Close the door, and let’s go.” He stood watching the glass slide into place before checking it was secure. I motioned for him to follow me through the kitchen to the door in the centre of the far wall.
    “This is my library.” I beamed. It wasn’t a huge room by any means, but the height allowed for a mezzanine balcony. In the far corner was a spiral staircase giving access to the shelves around the balcony, and on this lower floor was a small cubby sitting area. I also had on the outer wall a real wood burning stove fire place, so on cold nights I could sit in here instead of the lounge, and lose myself in a good book.
    I glanced at Ryan. He looked over his shoulder at the kitchen-lounge area and then back. “What a complete difference.”
    I grinned wildly, because yeah, in here was a total contrast to the pastels next door. Dark mahogany wood shelving, black wrought iron staircase, and the single chair was brown leather with matching stool. A few throw blankets over the chair back for when it became chilly. The large windows sat low, so the sills were at sitting height. I had a few cushions on one, but they hadn’t been used.
    He stepped further in the room and tilted his head to check out the balcony. All four walls were lined with book cases, completely full.
    “It’s cooler in here too,” he mused, glancing around at all the books.
    “It’s temperature controlled. I have some books up there that are first editions. Dad insisted if I removed them from his library, the temp control needed to be installed. Mum wasn’t impressed I was allowed to remove them,” I rambled, feeling suddenly nervous.
    “Have you read all of