Dressed once more in my sweater and jeans, my Master in the black jeans and linen shirt that suit him so well, we head downstairs. As we pass between the two mirrors, a grin cracks across my face.
He pauses. “Something funny?”
I lift my eyes to the ceiling-hook I spotted the day before. “I wondered what you had in mind for that?”
His gaze follows mine. Lips quirking, “In fact, my Love, it’s the support bracket for a chandelier which is away for cleaning…”
“Ah…”
“… However, that doesn’t mean it can’t be adapted…” He waggles his eyebrows… “… for other purposes.”
adapted…” other Wriggling fingers at me, “Come on. Let’s get some fresh air.”
*****
Outside, he walks me to the terrace I spotted from above, set out with a large oval, wrought iron table and chairs. A matching swing seat sta
