He didn’t regard himself as a man vulnerable to beauty. Efficiency, ruthlessness, financial acumen, these things could be counted on.He’d been driven to hire a helicopter on the English mainland and fly five miles across the sea to the little island of Herringdean. Since it was now his property, it made good sense to inspect it briefly on his way to an even more important meeting.Good sense. Cling to that, since everything else had failed him.But the sudden vision of sunlit sea, the waves glittering as they broke against the sand, stunned him and made him press closer to the window.‘Go lower,’ he commanded, and watched as the helicopter descended, sweeping along the coast of Herringdean Island. From here he could study the place with a critical eye.Or so he believed. But there was no criticism in the glance he turned on the lush green cliffs, the golden beaches; only astonished pleasure.The cliffs were sinking until they were only a few feet higher than the beach. He could see a large house that must once have been elegant, but was now fast falling into disrepair.
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