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
