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.


JORDAN DREW A DEEP BREATH and smiled, a look of pure pleasure coming over her face. “I love the smell of books,” she said.

Danny wrinkled his nose and looked around the used bookshop. To him, the store smelled a bit musty. “You and Nan should have come on this trip and left me home.”

“Nan?”

Danny nodded. “She was a librarian back in the States. Something to do with old books and maps. She’d have loved this place.”

“I thought you wanted to come,” Jordan said.

Danny slipped his arms around her waist. “I did. But you were the attraction, not some old moldy books.”

“What about when I get old and moldy?” Jordan asked. “Does that mean you’re going to stop liking me then?”

Danny nodded. “I’m afraid so. Once you turn thirty, I’m hitting the road.”

Jordan gasped, then slapped him playfully. “You’re awful. I think I might hate you.”

He bent to kiss her neck. “No, you don’t. You’re mad for me. Admit it. You can’t get enough.”

She sighed, tipping her head to allow his kisses to continue across her shoulder. “Well, that’s true enough. Although, I’m not sure it’s a good thing.” She gently pushed at his chest. “We’re here to look for books,” she reminded him. “Not to snog in the stacks.”

Reluctantly, Danny let her go. Hand in hand, they strolled down the narrow aisles between the stacks. “What exactly are you looking for?” He reached out and plucked a book from one of the shelves. “Here we go. An Illustrated History of Faeries and Sprites. Maybe we can find some of your wee friends in here.”

“Why do you think I’m a fairy?” she asked. “I don’t have wings. Or a wand.”

“Not all fairies look like Tinkerbell. And you wouldn’t. You’re the kind of fairy that uses all her trickery to lure me in.” He pointed to an illustration. “There you are. Leanan sidhe. See? That looks just like you.”

She examined the illustration carefully. “She has wavy dark hair. That’s about it.”

“There’s more,” he said.

“She’s naked and I’m fully clothed. And she has wings. And really big boobs.”

Danny playfully tugged at the back of her shirt. “You have lovely breasts. And I think I’ve seen wings in here somewhere. Why don’t we just take a closer look?”

“You need to keep your mind on business,” she warned, wagging her finger at him.

“And you need to stop distracting me. Fairy magic is a powerful thing and you don’t know how powerful you are.”

“If I’m so powerful,” Jordan said, “why can’t I get rid of the brownies in the house?”

“It doesn’t work that way. Fairies and brownies exist in separate worlds.” He handed her the book. “Here. You can read all about it. I’ll buy it for you, sidhe.”

“We’re here to look for big sets of books with nice leather bindings. And, of course, they should be interesting. I have a lot of shelves to fill.”

“So aesthetics are more important than content?”

Jordan shrugged. “I don’t know. It all depends. We should get a full set of Shakespeare. Why don’t we look for that first?”