With every step she took, she was getting more and more upset and Danny stood silently, searching for a way to defuse the looming argument.
“Would you like to tell me what you’re really upset about?”
She stopped and opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. “No,” she said.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Come on, sit down and tell me about your day.”
She plopped down on the stool and cupped her chin in her hand. “I bought a crystal vase a few months ago. It’s an exact match for one that was pictured in the foyer. I put it in the butler’s pantry and now it’s gone. It just disappeared. I have no idea how long it’s been gone, but I didn’t imagine that I bought it or put it there. I have a receipt.” She rubbed her forehead. “Sometimes I think I’m going crazy.”
“You’re not going crazy,” he said.
She shrugged. “I know. One of the workmen must have come into the house and taken it. I need to be more careful with the locks.”
“What else?” he asked.
“It’s nothing. I’m just tired. Stressed. Confused.” She pointed to the medallion. “It looks nice.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Danny said. “I don’t like it. The smith who designed it was a Brit. And I refuse to copy his work. There should be Irish work on the gate.”
“We had an agreement,” Jordan said.
“And I’m going back on it. You want a medallion for the garden gate, I’ll make you one. It’s going to be beautiful and it will be Irish and it will be my design. I want to leave something of my work in this place.”
“I could fire you for this,” she said, a defiant tilt to her chin.
He chuckled. “You could. But you won’t. You wanted the best and I’m the best.”
She shook her head. “Do what you want,” she murmured, her voice wavering. “I’m tired, too. And everything is all screwed up. And it’s all because of you.”
“Me? How am I to blame?”
She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears. She’d gone from contrary to crying in the course of a few seconds. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Danny tried to grab her hand, but she turned and started back to the house.
“Oh, bollocks,” he muttered. He ran after her, catching up on the stone terrace. “Jordan, wait.” He caught her waist and spun her around to face him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. “Just go back to work.”
“No. You’re in tears.”
“I am not!” she cried, denying the wet streaks on her face. “I’m not crying. I don’t cry.”
“Then why is your face wet?”
“I don’t cry!”
“You’re tired. We barely got any sleep last night. I was acting like an arse. If you
“I’m not crying,” she insisted.
He pulled her along to a bench and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and smoothing the hair from her eyes. “Tell me what’s going on.”
She drew a ragged breath and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I-I need to be done with this job. I need to go home. I have better things waiting for me and the longer I stay here, the less chance I have of getting them.”
Just the mention of her leaving caused a pain, like a dagger to his heart. “So you’ll finish the job and go home,” he murmured, pulling her close and kissing her temple.
“But the longer I stay here with you, the more I don’t want to leave. Everything is so simple here. I don’t have to fight to be happy.” She sniffled. “Do you know what I was just doing?”
“Threatening to fire me?” Danny teased.
“Talking to my father. He has a project that I really want to manage, a boutique hotel in SoHo. I thought, maybe, when he gave me this job, he was preparing me for that one. It’s the perfect project for me and he knows it-small, unique. And I was right on track to get it. Until you.”
“You’re going to blame this on me?”
“Yes. Because I really don’t care that he’s probably going to give it to my brother. My brother who wouldn’t know a sconce from a scone. I’m just so tired of this constant battle. Here, I’m happy. I don’t feel any pressure and I actually like this job. And I like you.”
“I like you, too,” Danny said. “And I can tell how much this hotel project means to you.”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Jordan said with a shaky laugh.
“Of course it does. You’re just angry.” He cupped her face in his hands and touched his lips to hers. “We’ll figure this out. You’ll find a way to change your father’s mind.”
“What about the gate?” she asked.
“You have to trust me. You have to let me do this my way. I promise, I’ll make it good.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Just get it done. I don’t care how you do it. It doesn’t make a difference anymore.” Jordan pulled out of his grasp. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea for us to spend so much time together. Both of us know there isn’t a future here. And we should both focus more on work.”
“Sure,” Danny said.
“Maybe you should stay at the cottage tonight.”
“No problem.” Danny wanted to grab her and pull her into his arms, to kiss away all her worries. He much preferred complete infatuation to utter confusion. But right now, Jordan needed a bit of space, a chance to figure out what she really wanted. She thought her problem was him; but Danny suspected there was something else at work here, something much deeper.
If she needed time, he’d give her that. She could have all the time she wanted. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go make you a cup of tea. That always makes things better.”
“I don’t like tea,” she said.
“What about ice cream?” he asked.
“I love ice cream.”
“There’s a place in town that has the best strawberry ice cream,” he said.
She smiled. “I love chocolate.”
“They have that, too,” Danny said. “We’ll go have ourselves a scoop.”
“We should really get back to work.”
“Well, if we’re going to be spending our nights alone, then we’ll have plenty of time for work.”
She drew in a ragged breath and forced a smile. “I may have been a bit rash about that. Maybe if we just tried to get to sleep earlier, things would improve.”
Danny drew her into his arms and gave her a fierce hug. “We’ll give that a try,” he said. “Now stop crying and we’ll go get ice cream.”
“I’m not crying,” she insisted, her face pressed into his chest.
“Sure you’re not,” Danny whispered.
JORDAN STRODE DOWN the garden path, her scheduling flowchart clutched in her hands. It was about time to get this project back on track. No more distractions, no more Ms. Nice Girl.
Maybe she did need to be tougher. Obviously, whoever was stealing from the house thought she was an easy mark. And if that’s what it took to get what she wanted, then she’d just have to change her ways. Bartie was a perfect example. He’d been working on the garden for months and nothing was done. Danny was doing his own thing with the gate medallions. And the filter for the pool had been nothing but trouble since it was installed.
“It’s time to kick ass and take names,” she muttered to herself. “Get tough. Be mean.”
Cursing softly, she brushed aside the memory of her attempt with Danny. The humiliation of breaking down in front of him yesterday still brought a flush of warmth to her cheeks. She’d never let her emotions get the better of her in her business life before. Why now?
She’d just been so overwhelmed with everything that had happened between them that she’d cracked. Too many late nights, too much time spent feeling like a wanton woman rather than a detached professional.
But this wasn’t just about the job. Though she’d tried to blame everything on Danny, Jordan knew it was nearly
