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“Shh,” she urged, working her way back to the front door. “Settle down. I’m not going to hurt you.” Jordan held out her hand as she made her retreat. But just as she turned to step outside, she ran face-first into a wide, muscular and naked chest.
A tiny cry slipped from her lips as she stumbled back. The dogs got behind her legs and she felt herself losing her balance. And then she was on the floor with the dogs climbing all over her, licking at her face and nuzzling her hands.
“Finny. Mogue. Away now.”
The dogs retreated a safe distance, then sat down and peered at her with curious blue eyes, their tongues hanging out, their heads cocked. They looked so pleased with themselves. “Thank you so much for the lovely welcome,” she muttered to the dogs as she struggled to her feet. A moment later, the man grabbed her hand and helped her up. It was only then that Jordan got a good look at the elusive Danny Quinn.
The family resemblance was keen. At first glance, he looked like his older brother, Kellan. But upon more careful study, she saw that where Kellan was handsome in a cool, sophisticated way, his brother oozed raw sex appeal.
He wore torn blue jeans that rode low on his narrow hips, and an old work shirt, open at the front and missing its sleeves. A sheen of perspiration covered his sinewy arms and chest. His hair, nearly black, stood up in unruly spikes. But it was his eyes, pale blue in color, that caught her complete attention. She forced herself to look away and her gaze drifted to a narrow strip of hair that traced a line from his navel to beneath his—
“Sorry about the dogs,” he said with a boyish smile. “They’ll herd anything that moves.” He paused. “How they could mistake you for a sheep, I’ll never know.”
Jordan looked up, her face warming with embarrassment. Sheep? What was she doing? Quinn was a business associate. “You—you must be Daniel Quinn.”
“I must be,” he said. “And who must you be?”
“Oh.” She held out her hand. “Jordan. Jordan Kennally.”
He seemed taken aback by her introduction, but then wiped his hand on his jeans and took her fingers in his. “You’re Joe Kennally?”
“Jordan,” she said. “Your brother calls me Joe. He thinks it’s funny.” She cleared her throat, determined to stay on the subject at hand. “I’ve been trying to contact you for the past two weeks now and haven’t gotten a call back. So I decided a visit was in order.” He stared at her silently. “What?” she asked, an impatient edge to her voice.
“I’m just surprised you’re a girl. Kell neglected to mention that.”
Jordan felt her temper rise. That comment had been thrown at her regularly since she’d begun working for her father’s development company. Why couldn’t she be a girl? Women had every right to work in the construction industry these days. And Jordan wasn’t a name reserved exclusively for boys.
“Is that a problem?” she asked, snatching her hand back and fixing him with a cool look. Obviously, the only way to keep this conversation on track was to present a tough facade.
Danny shrugged. “I can assure you, that’s never been a problem with me. And had I known you were a woman, I might not have dodged your calls for two weeks.” He chuckled. “And had I known that you were so beautiful, I’d have turned up on your doorstep in less than a day.”
“You could tell I was a woman from the messages,” she said.
Danny frowned. “I really wasn’t paying attention. I usually just ignore my phone messages.”
“That’s always a good business practice,” she murmured.
He stepped out of the door and motioned for her to follow him. “Come on then, I’ll show you around.”
To her consternation, he didn’t bother to button up his shirt and she found herself fixated on that thin line of hair, this time following it up from his belly to his collarbone. Maybe she should offer him a chance to put on something more appropriate for a business meeting. When her attention shifted to the sculpted muscles of his upper arms, Jordan stifled a groan.
She stepped past him, her shoulder brushing against his body as she walked outside. The contact sent another current racing through her. Jordan wanted to scream. What was happening to her? After just a few minutes, this man had her completely off balance. There was no way she’d be able to negotiate a contract with him in this state. He could ask for a million Euros and her naked body in his bed and she’d sign on the dotted line.
“Just follow the path to the back,” he said, pointing.
Since she’d been in Ireland, Jordan had lived the life of a nun. The first year, she’d made a point to return to New York at least once a month, in an attempt to maintain a romantic relationship with her last boyfriend. But after their breakup, it had seemed like a waste of time and money.
Though she’d made a few acquaintances in the area, she’d kept to herself. In truth, she wasn’t very good with friends. Work always took precedence and she often turned down invitations to socialize because of that. She put all her energy into her job.
“Did your brother tell you about the project?” she asked as they walked to a small stone barn set behind the cottage.
“I know the place,” Danny replied. “Castle Cnoc. We used to go out there when we were teenagers. It was a grand spot for a party if you could avoid getting caught by the peelers.”
“Peelers?”
“The gardai. The … cops. People around here think it’s haunted, you know.”
“Yes, well, a lot has changed,” she said, risking a sideways glance. “We’ve finished with most of the renovations. But we still have a lot of the details to get right. Your brother showed me your portfolio. I like your work. A lot of the original ironwork was stripped out of the place after it was abandoned, but we do have photos from early in the twentieth century and some samples we managed to find. So you’d do some new fabrication and some restoration of existing work. We want to put everything back the way it was.”
“It’s a big job of work,” he said. “That place is huge.”
“We haven’t done anything to the castle itself. That will be done later. It’s the attached manor house that we’re working on.”
“That’s still a big house,” he said. “And the last time I saw it, it was a ruin.”
“Nine bedrooms. Nearly ten thousand square feet. Built in 1860 with a major addition in 1910. I know we haven’t talked money, but I figured you’d want to see what’s required before you give me a quote. And I wanted to meet you, to see if we … well, if we could work together.”
They reached the door to the old stone barn and he stopped and stood in front of her, staring at her in a brazen way. She pressed her hand to her chest, wondering why her heart was suddenly beating so fast. Was it the smile that made his mouth seem more kissable? Or was it the sheen of perspiration that made her long to touch his bare skin? Or was it—
“So, this is kind of like a first date for us,” he commented. “We’re just feeling each other out, trying to decide whether we want to get involved, is that it?”
Jordan felt her cheeks blaze again. This was crazy! She’d dealt with handsome men like Danny Quinn all her adult life. What was it about him that had turned her into a silly teenager? “It’s purely a business transaction, Mr. Quinn. It has nothing to do with my feelings for you. Not that I have any feelings at all for you. We just met.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Then it would be more like I’m a brasser and you’re my customer?”
“A brasser?”
“A prostitute? A hooker, I think you Americans call it.”
“I’m not making you do anything illegal, unless making hinges and gates will get you arrested in Ireland.”
“You haven’t seen my hinges,” he said with a grin. “They’re obscenely sexy. Erotic, some would say.”
She had to put a stop to this—this playful, but highly suggestive banter. “Mr. Quinn, I—”
“Oh, Jaysus, can we stop with the Mr. Quinn? No one ever calls me mister. And it makes you sound like a snootypants.”
“Do you want this job?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in frustration. “Because I get the feeling you’re doing everything in your power to get me to turn around and walk back to my car.”
He raked his hand through his tousled hair. “Now don’t be doing that. I’m just having a bit of fun,” he cajoled. “And you’re right, I’m not really sure I want to take on a job like this. Copying someone else’s work doesn’t appeal to my creative sensibilities at all.”
“But you’d be a part of a really wonderful project. The castle is going to be restored to its former grandeur.”
“Why? So some rich American can live there and pretend he’s a nineteenth-century lord, looking down on all the locals? Oh, count me in on that. And while you’re at it, do you have a few red-hot pokers you’d like to stick in my eye?”
Jordan stared at him, baffled by his response. She’d gotten the impression from Kellan that his brother really needed the work. But it was clear that Danny Quinn required more than just a decent paycheck before he took a job. He needed inspiration.
“So who is it that bought the old castle?” he asked. “Everyone in the county has been speculating. Whoever it is must have money to burn.”
“I’m really not at liberty to—”
“If you expect me to take the job, I’m going to want to know who I’m working for.”
“You’d be working for me,” Jordan said.
“And who would you be working for?” He pointed inside the barn. “After you.”
She opened her mouth to counter his sarcastic query, but as soon as her eyes adjusted to the dark interior of the barn, Jordan was silenced. From every rafter, in every nook and cranny, there were beautiful objects made of iron, twisted into shapes she’d never thought possible. She saw gates and railings and balustrades and a beautiful sundial that she immediately wanted for the garden at Castle Cnoc.
But it wasn’t just architectural items that she found. Along one wall were a series of small animals, hedgehogs and rabbits and squirrels, clever little creatures made of cast iron. She wandered over to a crooked shelf tacked to a crossbeam and examined a collection of small carved objects.
“You did these?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.
“When I was a kid. The cast-iron animals are for the tourists. They’re small enough to fit in a suitcase and make a nice remembrance. You wouldn’t believe how many good jobs I get because of those bloody hedgehogs.”
Jordan smiled. “They are cute.”
He reached down and grabbed one and handed it to her. “Then take one with you. They make a proper doorstop or a decent paperweight. But they’re pure hell if your toe runs across one in the dark.”
“Thank you,” Jordan said.
He stared at her for a long moment. “You have a lovely smile,” Danny said.
Jordan quickly turned away, crossing the dirt floor to the forge. The massive stone fireplace, set at waist level, was located against the far wall, banked with coal, red embers glowing inside. Soot stained the stone above the hearth. Tools lined the walls surrounding the forge and a battered anvil sat in the center of it all.
“This is amazing,” she murmured. She walked to a spot where an iron gate was propped against a post. The decorative ironwork was so intricate, so artistic that Jordan immediately knew she wasn’t in the presence of a craftsman but an artist. She pointed to a huge rosette sitting beside it. “What is this for?”
“That’s just a try,” he said. “The two I finished were set into the stone wall of a formal garden, kind of like a window.”
“I want you,” she blurted out, spinning around to face him. “I don’t care what it takes, but I want you.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “That’s always nice to hear.”
Jordan groaned inwardly. Never in her life had she been so befuddled by a man. Yes, she found him wildly attractive. What woman wouldn’t, him standing there with his shirt unbuttoned to the waist and his gorgeous body tempting her?
But there was something else at work here. He was incredibly talented and impossibly charming and nothing like the men she was usually attracted to. Yet the attraction was undeniable. If he agreed to work for her, she’d have to keep that attraction in check.
Maybe she ought to just walk away. Having him in close proximity was a disaster waiting to happen. What she really needed was a blacksmith who was old and wrinkled and didn’t have all his teeth. That kind of man would be so much easier to resist. Danny Quinn was the human equivalent of catnip.
“How much do you want me?” Danny asked.
“What I meant was that I want you to do this job. I can see your talent and I think we can work out a way that your needs—” She cleared her throat. “Your artistic needs can be met.” Jordan drew a deep breath. “As far as compensation, I’m willing to be generous if you’re willing to put all your time and effort into the project until it’s finished. Ten-hour days, six days a week if necessary.”
“And what kind of compensation are we talking about?”
“Well, it depends on how long you take to finish the job. But I can promise you that it will be very generous. Well worth your while.”
“You’ll have to include living expenses. I can’t work from here.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to spend my time making the drive back and forth every time I need to fit something, dragging iron from here to there. We can set up a forge on-site. It will be more efficient. I’ll need a place to sleep.”
“You don’t want to sleep at home?”
“I have to tend the fire and I sometimes work late into the night. I don’t need anything posh, just a bed and a shower.”
“All right. There’s a cottage that you can use.”
“And I’m bringing my dogs, too. And I eat three meals a day.”
“You expect me to cook for you?” Jordan asked.
“I expect you to feed me,” he replied.
The thought of having a man as sexy as Danny around 24/7 was a bit disconcerting. But she was a very capable woman with finely honed self-control. And this was business. Nothing would happen if she didn’t want it to happen. “That can all be arranged,” she said. “We don’t have a cook at the house, but I’ll open up an account for you at the market in the village.”
“I can live with that.” He smiled and a shiver skittered down her spine. “Well, I suppose I ought to see the place, make a few notes and figure out if this is really a job I want to do.”
“The sooner the better. I’d like you to start as soon as possible.” She paused. “And I should warn you, I’m a very hands-on—” Jordan swallowed hard. In such a highly charged atmosphere, her admission could probably be misconstrued—again. “I meant to say, I’m very concerned with details, so I will be involved in all important decisions.”
He cocked his eyebrow, then shrugged. “I have some things to finish up here. Why don’t I drive over this evening and you can show me around?”
“That would be fine.”
They stood facing each other, an uneasy silence growing between them. Now that their business was completed, Jordan realized she should leave, or risk looking as though she was interested in something more than his blacksmith skills. She held out her hand again. “Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Mr.—Danny.”
He took her fingers in his, his touch so gentle that it was more a caress than a polite gesture. “You have no idea what a pleasure it was for me, Jordan,” he murmured.
For a long moment, she wasn’t sure what to do. His touch felt so good she didn’t want to pull away. Neither one of them took a breath or even blinked, and when he took a step closer, Jordan was certain he was about to kiss her. She yanked her hand back and clutched at the purse slung over her shoulder.
“Later,” he said with a crooked smile.
She wasn’t sure whether he was referring to their meeting at the castle or his intention to kiss her. “I look forward to it,” she stated curtly. “And please don’t blow me off this time.”
“I wouldn’t think of it,” he said in a low voice.
Jordan gave him a nod, then strode out of the barn. As soon as she had put a reasonable distance between them, she cursed softly. Had it really been necessary to add that last part? It made her sound like a complete bitch. But from the moment she’d set eyes on Danny Quinn she’d found it impossible to separate pleasure from the business she meant to do with him. She’d have to toughen up if she was going to deal with him—and with the unbidden attraction she felt.
“He’s not that cute,” she said to herself in a feeble attempt to mitigate her feelings. “All right, maybe he is really cute. But he’s probably just like all gorgeous men—full of himself. And I’ve always hated men with big egos.”
Hopefully, by the time she got back to Castle Cnoc, she’d have convinced herself that Danny was just like all the other workmen wandering about the place—ordinary guys, there to do a job and nothing more.
But as she pulled away from the bakery, she realized it would take a whole lot more than the drive to make that happen.
Maybe a ride to Dublin and back would do it.
Danny twisted the rearview mirror around to check his appearance. After he’d finished work for the day, he’d grabbed a quick shower and a shave and put on a decent shirt, then set off for Castle Cnoc. He’d thought about walking. Along the coast the castle was not more than an hour’s hike. But he didn’t want to arrive all sweaty and knackered. For any other girl in County Cork, he wouldn’t have bothered to worry. But Jordan Kennally was not just any girl.
