The Mighty Quinns: Danny (10 page)

But Danny had seduced her and at the same time, awakened a part of her that she hadn't known existed. For the first time in her life, she felt needed…wanted…desired. And that made her feel wonderful.

How many times had she heard professional women discussing the problem with trying to have it all? Was this what they meant? Did romance exist in direct competition with professional success? Could she be a woman in love and a woman in business at the same time? Or would one side always suffer?

Of course she could, Jordan mused. Women did it every day. But they didn't have four brothers to compete
with, or a father who never seemed to be satisfied. Or a man who could inflame her body with just a simple touch of his hand.

Her job would have been so much easier if Danny Quinn had turned out to be fifty years old, balding and toothless. Instead, he had to be handsome and charming and sexy as sin. She'd never stood a chance. Her feeble attempt to put an end to their late nights had lasted all of about two minutes. Last night had been just as long and adventurous as the previous nights had been.

Jordan turned in to the entrance of the garden and observed the landscape in front of her. More holes. More piles of dirt. It looked as if Bartie and Daisy had turned over every single inch of soil in the garden.

Gathering her resolve, Jordan strode inside the walls and approached the elderly couple. They were bent low, peering into a deep hole. “What are you two looking for?”

They jumped at the sound of her voice and then quickly straightened, fumbling with the tools they held. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” She stepped over and looked into the hole. “If there's nothing, then why are you digging holes?”

“The soil,” Bartie said. “Ferrous—”

“Yes, I know. Ferrous metals. I searched
ferrous metals in Irish gardens
on the internet last night. I didn't find anything. Not one thing about iron in the soil. And as far as roses, they can grow in almost any kind of soil with the proper feeding and fertilization.”

“Yes,” Bartie said, still nodding his head.

“Yes? Is that all you have to say?” Jordan paused
and schooled her temper. “I don't understand what the holdup is. It doesn't look any closer to being done than it did when I arrived here sixteen months ago. Except instead of weeds, I now have piles and piles of dirt.”

“Oh, but it is,” Bartie said. “I can see how you think that, Miss Kennally. But rose gardens in Ireland can be a tricky thing. The soil has to be prepared in just the right way or you'll have a catastrophe on your hands. We've had to go down a bit deeper than we planned, but it's important. To avoid catastrophe.”

“I don't want a catastrophe. I just want flowers. Roses. Get it done. If—if I don't see flowers in this garden by next week, I'll need to hire a professional.”

“Yes, miss.”

She stalked back to the entrance of the garden, then turned back to Bartie and Daisy. “Have you been inside the house lately, Bartie?”

The old man shifted nervously. “No, miss. I spend all my time in the garden. Why would I have cause to come in the house?”

“What about you, Daisy?”

“No, ma'am.”

Jordan shook her head. “Danny says we might have brownies or fairies in the house. Things keep disappearing and then reappearing somewhere else. Do you know anything about that?”

Bartie nodded. “Oh, yes, miss. Sounds like brownies to me,” he said. “I'll keep a watch out for them. In the meantime, you might want to leave a little something out for them, miss. A biscuit or two, maybe a slice of tea cake.”

“Or you can build a new house for them,” Daisy said.

“Build a new house? For an imaginary creature?” Jordan shook her head. “I have to see some positive changes out here soon. It needs to start looking like a garden, not a construction site.”

Bartie tipped his hat, then returned to the hole he was digging. Daisy gave him a worried look and Bartie forced a smile. “Flowers,” he said.

As Jordan walked through the opening in the wall, she noticed new hinges hanging from the stone columns. Danny was working on the gate but she'd been reluctant to check up on his progress.

She'd accepted his refusal to copy the original gate, but she was afraid she might not like what he'd come up with to replace it. And if she didn't like it, she'd be forced to make him begin again. She started toward the forge, then decided to wait. Trust. She had to trust that he knew what he was doing.

When she got back inside the house, she headed to the library, ready to get to work on her scheduling. There was still the roof on the laundry cottage and the new gravel paving on the drive. She had to check her inventory of furniture and make a final list of the pieces she needed, and she'd have to make some changes due to Danny's slower pace. But there was still a chance to make her final deadline if she could just control her desires.

Jordan sat down at her desk, feeling much better about her options. Grabbing her calendar, she flipped through the next few weeks, searching for a few open days. A trip back to New York would be an excellent way to lobby for the hotel job. She could fly in one day
and out the next. Danny could watch over the workmen for her while she was gone.

“Yes,” she murmured. There was still time to get everything she wanted. She'd bring her father a full report on the Castle Cnoc renovation, filled with photos and graphs and flowcharts. Her father loved graphs. He would have to see she was the right one. And if he didn't—if he didn't, she'd—

“I'll quit!” she cried, slamming her pen down on the desk.

“Don't say that.”

Jordan glanced up to see Kellan Quinn standing in the doorway of the library. “Hello.” For a moment, she'd thought it was Danny, all cleaned up and looking like a proper businessman. The brothers looked so much alike. But in reality, Kellan wasn't anything like Danny. He was cool and aloof and completely in control of his emotions. She could depend on Kellan. Danny? Well, she still hadn't figured that out yet.

He stepped through the door. “Hi. How is it going?”

From the moment she'd met Kellan sixteen months ago, she'd liked him. He was talented and thoughtful and possessed as much enthusiasm for the castle as she did. As the project architect, he'd prepared all the plans and drawings for the renovation, making sure everything they kept was sound and anything new was an accurate restoration. Now that it was almost finished, she realized how much she'd miss working with him.

“Things are going really well,” she said. “I didn't know you were coming. Are you looking for Danny?”

“No,” Kellan said. “I'm looking for you.” He handed her an envelope. “My final bill. I know I could have
mailed it, but I come with a personal request. Actually, several. Nan wanted me to remind you of the engagement party. She'd like you to come. It's next Friday night at the pub. And she and my mother would like to come and tour Castle Cnoc once it's all finished, if that's all right with you?”

“I'd love to give them a tour.” Jordan stood and took the envelope from him. “Sit,” she said, pointing to a nearby chair. “Have you had a chance to walk through the house?”

“No, but I want to. It's been a while. When are you bringing in the furniture?”

“Soon,” Jordan said. “I've got a few more things that I need to buy. Library books are next on the list.” She glanced around. “I have to fill all these shelves. But I want real books, leather-bound with gold leaf.”

“Where are you going to go for those?”

“I don't know. London would probably be best. It would be nice if I could put together a real Irish library, though.”

“Really? I thought you were going for more of an English manor house.”

“I've been convinced that I should approach this from the Irish side. After all, the owner is half-Irish, so there is good reason to go that way. And Danny—”

“Oh, so that's it,” Kellan said with a grin. “Danny is pushing the whole Gaelic-pride thing?”

“No. But he's right. This is an Irish house and the decor should reflect that.”

“There's a great rare books dealer in Galway,” Kellan said. “I'll email you his name. He'll help you find what you need.”

“Thanks,” she said.

“So, Joe, tell me that Danny has been treating you well. Is it all fair play, then, or has he been a dosser?”

“Fair play,” Jordan said, “I think. He's very good at what he does.”

Kellan nodded slyly. “I'm sure he is. That's why women love him.”

Jordan felt her cheeks warm. “Professionally. He's an excellent blacksmith. We've had a few creative disagreements, but other than that, it's been going quite well.”

“I would warn you off,” Kellan said, “but I suspect you know what you're doing.”

This caused Jordan to laugh out loud. “I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm figuring it out as I go along.”

“I will say this—if he hurts you, I'll reef the shite out of him.”

“That won't be necessary. If he hurts me, I'll reef the shite out of him myself.”

“And if things go well for you both and you'd consider staying in Ireland, then I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” Jordan asked.

“I'd like you to consider working with me. I do a lot of houses like this, here and in Europe, and I like your work. And your style. No drama. I don't know the technicalities of getting a work visa, but I'm sure that could be sorted out.”

“You're offering me a job?”

“More like a partnership. If you decide to stay.”

Jordan leaned back in her chair. She hadn't even considered staying. Her life was back in Manhattan. She had just always assumed she'd return. But it was nice
to know that she had options. It would serve her father right if she decided to leave the company. At least
someone
admired her talent and work ethic. “Thanks,” she said. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“Everything else is going well?” Kellan asked.

“If you're asking about the house, yes. Oh, except for the brownies or the fairies. We're not sure which we have. And then there's the problems in the garden with Bartie. He's been digging holes for weeks now. Big, deep holes. I don't know what that's all about.”

“You have brownies?” Kellan asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Someone or something has been sneaking around the house, stealing things and locking doors and windows behind them.”

“You do know that brownies aren't real, don't you?”

“Of course she does.” Danny appeared at the door, dressed in his leather apron and a backward baseball cap.

“Someone
was
in the house that night,” Jordan said. “I know I wasn't dreaming.”

Danny drew a deep breath. “Yes, someone was in the house. Maybe not that night, but sometime that day. I found a footprint.”

“You did? You didn't tell me that,” Jordan said.

“I didn't want to scare you. And you haven't had any more problems since I've been sleeping in the manor house.”

“Except for the vase,” she said.

“Right, the vase.” He smiled. “Well, I think we can rule out the place being haunted. Ghosts don't carry off crystal vases.”

Kellan nodded. “Yeah, it was easier to believe in
ghosts when the place looked like a wreck. Some of these old houses have secret entrances. And this house was used during the rebellion to smuggle guns. Maybe that's how your brownies are getting in and out.”

Danny grinned. “Really? Where would this secret passage be?”

“I don't know. I have the original blueprints, but there wasn't anything on those. But then, there wouldn't be if it was a secret. I just never thought to look.” He stood. “You need to find an undefined space. You could figure it out if you measured the rooms. Somewhere there's a missing meter or so, a space wide enough for a hall or a stairway.”

“Now you have me curious,” Jordan said, smiling. “Wouldn't that be a tale to tell the owner when she arrives? I think we should start looking. I want to find it.”

“I'd love to help,” Kellan said, standing, “but I'm off to Dublin. I need to scare up some more work.” He crossed the room and held out his hand to Jordan. “It was a pure pleasure working with you, Joe.”

Jordan smiled. “And thank you for the offer, Kellan,” she said. “I'll think about it.”

“Good.” Kellan gave Danny a slap on the shoulder as he walked out the door. “You, watch yourself. Don't be an arse. Be nice to your boss.”

When they were alone, Danny sat down in the chair Kellan had vacated. “What was that all about?” he asked.

“He brought me his bill,” Jordan said.

“That's not what I'm talking about,” Danny said. “What kind of offer did Kellan make you?”

“It's nothing,” Jordan said. “Just business.” She didn't
want Danny to know that she would even consider staying in Ireland. If he hadn't thought about it, then knowing that she had would likely send him running in the opposite direction. And though Kellan's offer was generous, it would take a lot to get her to give up her life in America.

Jordan jumped out of her chair. “I think we should look for that secret passage. Then we can figure out if anyone has been sneaking into the house.” She walked over to the wall of shelves. “How are we going to find it?”

“Tap on the walls,” Danny suggested. “Look for hidden latches or hinges.” He stood and walked to the door. “I have to get back to work. I'll see you later.”

Jordan watched him retreat, then frowned. He seemed a bit upset. Maybe she should have told him about Kellan's offer. But there was another reason she'd held back. What if he wanted her to stay?

Jordan drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She could deny it all she wanted, but she felt something deep and strong for Danny Quinn. It might not be love, but it was something that wouldn't go away just because she wanted it to. Leaving him was going to be much more difficult that she'd ever anticipated.