volunteered to do the work for free if I paid for the plantings. Bartie claims that he played in the garden as a child.”
“Folks around the county weren’t very happy to hear that an American bought this place,” he said. “They’re kind of suspicious of outsiders.”
“I know. But I’m employing a lot of local craftsmen and once they find out who bought the place, they’ll be fine. The person is of Irish descent. In fact, she can trace her family back to the original builders of the castle.”
“Are you going to tell me who it is, then?”
“You have to promise not to say anything. Until she moves in, she’d like to avoid publicity.”
Jordan leaned forward and whispered a familiar name into his ear. There weren’t many actors living in County Cork, and now they were about to gain a certified American movie star. “Holy Mary, now there’s some news.”
She pressed her finger to her lips and shook her head. “Don’t tell.”
He pressed his own finger to his lips. “Silent as the grave, I’ll be.” Danny glanced back inside the garden. “So, what are they doing in there?”
“Some Irish thing. Purifying the soil, I believe he calls it. Something about the peat and the sea air and leachings from limestone. I don’t really understand it. But he promises I’ll have a beautiful rose garden in the end.”
“Where do I stay?” Danny asked. “And where do I set up the forge?”
Jordan pointed down the path as they continued on. “There’s an old laundry cottage back there with an existing hearth. I think that will do for the forge. And there’s the cottage you can use for your living quarters. It was the first place we renovated,” Jordan explained. “I used it as my home and office until the manor house had a decent roof and plumbing. It’s very comfortable.”
She unlocked the door and walked inside. Danny followed her to find a cozy place not much different from his cottage in Ballykirk, a bedroom on one end and a kitchen and bath on the other, with a large living area in between.
“I hope it’s all right.” Jordan motioned to the bedroom. “The bed is brand-new. There’s electric heat and a shower in the bathroom. And a functioning kitchen.”
“This will be fine,” he said. “I can start moving in tomorrow.”
“Good,” she murmured.
He reached out and took her hand in his, weaving their fingers together. “So, I guess that would be it, Miss Kennally. Everything is settled between us?”
“Yes,” she said, watching him play with her hand. “I-I look forward to working with you, Mr.-I mean, Daniel. Danny. Dan?”
“Danny,” he said. He took her hand and turned it over, then placed her palm on his chest, covering her hand with his. He wanted to do so much more. “I would kiss you, but now that we’ve come to an agreement, we’ll have plenty of time for that later.”
“Well, you got what you wanted,” she said. “And I got exactly what I wanted. That’s what makes a good business deal, don’t you think?”
“I got the first thing I wanted. But there’s always room for renegotiation.” With that, he let her hand drop and turned to the door of the cottage. It took all his willpower to walk away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jordan.”
He left her standing in the center of the room, her green eyes wide, her lips parted. As Danny strode back to his car, he couldn’t help but wonder if all that had happened between them had simply been a way to secure his services. When she’d come to the smithy that morning, she’d been determined to convince him to work for her and here he was, ready to drop everything and move into her caretaker’s cottage.
No, Danny thought to himself. He knew how to read women and she was just as attracted to him as he was to her. There was a lot about this job he was going to like, Danny mused. And spending more time with Jordan Kennally was top on the list.
2
JORDAN ROLLED OVER in bed and stared at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was almost 8:00 a.m. and she’d only managed a few hours of sleep. She was always up early, supervising the workmen, putting together the daily schedule, checking on supplies and invoices. This morning, she’d risen at sunrise, unlocked the doors, then crawled back into bed.
After what had happened yesterday with Danny Quinn, her whole routine had been thrown into a tail-spin. Now, all she could think about was the way he’d kissed her and touched her, the feel of his chest beneath her palms, the way he seemed to ignite her desire with just one look.
Jordan groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. “I’ve been in Ireland too long,” she murmured. “I need to get back to my real life in New York.”
But she knew she was only kidding herself. The longer she’d stayed in Ireland, the more she’d grown to enjoy the feelings of freedom. Here she didn’t have to worry about pleasing her father or competing with her brothers or avoiding her mother’s endless attempts at matchmaking. Here, she did her job and she enjoyed it.
That had been easy until now. She hadn’t had any trouble keeping her mind on business. But after her encounter with Danny, maybe the effort had finally become too much to handle. The stress of devoting her every waking moment to this project had finally made her crack.
Never, ever, in her life had she thrown herself at a guy the way she had with him. He was, admittedly, the most handsome man she’d ever met. That dark hair and those incredible blue eyes. And that smile that sent shivers racing through her body. Undeniable lust was only a natural reaction.
But it was more than that. It felt good to be wanted. She’d spent so much time trying to make her way in the men’s club that was Kencor that she’d almost forgotten she was a woman. Danny had reminded her that she was pretty and interesting and maybe even a little sexy.
He was a charming bloke, as the Irish would say. Talented, too. She’d always admired artistic people. Though she’d possessed a knack for design, she’d majored in business in college. And her eye for choosing fabrics and furniture wasn’t nearly as interesting as that of a painter or sculptor.
But this project would be done in less than three months and she’d be ready to move on to something bigger and better at Kencor. Her father was in negotiation to buy an old Manhattan hotel and she wanted that project more than anything. She wasn’t about to allow herself to be distracted by a man-even one as sexy as Danny.
Jordan had sought her father’s approval from the time she knew what it was. But he’d never really noticed her, devoting his attention to his four sons. In truth, Jordan had always felt that she’d been born to satisfy her mother’s need for a daughter.
She’d spent her entire life trying to hide the fact that she was a girl. As a child, she’d dressed just like her brothers, in jeans and T-shirts, trying desperately to keep up with them in every activity from football to fishing. As a teen, she’d turned her competitiveness toward her education, refusing to take anything but the honors courses that her brothers had completed before her. And though she’d longed to major in interior design in college, she’d chosen business instead, like her brothers.
This was the project that would finally prove she was just as competent as any son Andrew Kennally had. He’d tossed this project to her, deeming it a good job for a girl. The fact that it was in Ireland made it even better. It would get Jordan out of the way for a year or two. But she’d determined that Castle Cnoc would prove her worthy of so much more.
Jordan snuggled back beneath the covers. If she could just catch a few more hours, she’d be ready to deal with the arrival of her new blacksmith. “Danny,” she murmured. “Danny Quinn.” She closed her eyes and an image of the handsome Irishman swirled around in her head.
It wasn’t wrong to indulge her attraction in private. Though sleeping with an employee was against every code she followed, sleeping with the fantasy of him was perfectly acceptable-as long as she didn’t tell anyone.
The sound of barking dogs invaded her waking dream and she brushed it aside. But then she heard a car door slam and that brought Jordan upright in bed. Tossing the covers aside, she raced over to the window that overlooked the front drive.
Two very familiar dogs ran around Danny’s battered Land Rover. “Oh, shit!” she muttered, running her hands
