Kate Hoffmann: Danny

She was-well, what the hell was she? he wondered. Sophisticated…and ambitious…and American, three qualities he hadn’t really dealt with in his love life to date. No wonder he’d acted like such a fool. Even the best of his pathetic charm had had no effect on her. He’d tried to be cool and he’d sounded like a bleedin’ culchie instead. And she’d left acting as though she’d stepped in something with a big stink on it.

“So just keep your gob shut,” he muttered. “Smile and nod and let her do all the talking.”

He jumped out of the battered Land Rover and slammed the door behind him. He probably should have borrowed Riley’s car, just to create a better impression. Hell, he probably should have gone out and bought some new clothes and maybe even stopped for a haircut. And while he was out, he could have bought himself a clue as to how to act around a woman like Jordan.

He stared up at the facade of the old manor. The castle was attached to the huge Georgian house on its north side-the tall stone tower constructed to look out over the surrounding countryside and the sea to the west. Smuggler’s Cove was right below the castle, at the bottom of the rocky cliff.

With all the construction around, it was difficult to tell where the front door of the manor house was anymore. Danny wandered over to a scaffold covered in plastic and found the door behind it. He pushed it open and stepped inside the spacious entry hall.

He felt as if he were stepping back in time. His last visit had been during a drunken birthday celebration for one of his schoolmates. At the time, he’d been just shy of eighteen and the manor had been rundown and open to the elements. But now the windowpanes had been replaced with sparkling glass and the crumbling plaster restored to its former beauty. Wainscotting had been polished and floors waxed.

As Jordan had promised, Castle Cnoc’s manor house had nearly been restored to its former grandeur.

“Hello?” Danny called.

A soft melody drifted from the rear of the house and he followed the sound, the Irish tune luring him closer.

The imposing dining room at the rear of the ground floor had also been restored, the floor-to-ceiling paneling refinished and shining softly in the late-afternoon sun. A new chandelier hung from the ceiling in the center of the room, crystals twinkling.

The music grew louder as he traced it to the small breakfast room that adjoined the dining room. Danny felt a tiny thrill race through him when he saw her. She was standing on a ladder, her back to him, polishing a stained-glass medallion in one of the leaded windows. A Cara Dillon song played from a small radio.

Jaysus, she was beautiful, tall and slender, but with curves in all the right places. Her dark hair and pale skin made her appear delicate, but Danny already knew better. He suspected that Jordan was the kind of woman who liked to get her own way, and pity any man who wasn’t willing to comply. He smiled to himself. Hell, he could stand to be bossed around a bit-especially in the bedroom.

She’d changed out of the turtleneck jumper and jeans that she’d had on earlier and now wore a pretty flowered dress with a green cardie over it. His gaze fixed on her backside and he found himself speculating on the color and style of her knickers.

“White,” he murmured to himself. “With lace.”

Danny leaned against the doorjamb and continued to watch her, listening to her hum along with the tune. She seemed so relaxed, completely different from the businesslike woman he’d met earlier that morning.

Danny knew it was crazy to want her the way he did. She was about to become his boss, never mind the fact she’d be leaving Ireland as soon as her work was done at Castle Cnoc. Yet, he couldn’t seem to help himself. From the moment he’d set eyes on her, he’d felt a wickedly powerful fascination.

He’d always done his best to avoid lengthy romantic entanglements with women. An occasional one-night stand with an attractive girl was plenty for him. He’d just never been any good at commitment.

His mother had always said it was because he was constantly searching for his muse, the perfect woman who could push his art to greater heights. “Hard work,” she’d say, shaking her finger at him. That was the only thing that would bring him true success. But that hadn’t stopped him from looking. Still, as he observed Jordan, Danny suspected she was more like one of the enchantresses from the old fairy tales, the leanansidhe. Everything about her was meant to make him ignore reason and surrender to her magic. But the leanansidhe were dangerous. If a man tried to leave such a powerful being he was doomed to death.

Danny slowly walked into the room, taking in the tiny details: the stained glass, the carved rosettes in the dark wood paneling, the decorative plaster medallion on the ceiling. “This is brilliant,” he said.

Startled, she clutched at the ladder then glanced over her shoulder. “You scared me! How long have you been standing there?”

“Two verses and a rather lovely chorus.” She wobbled on the ladder and he rushed to offer his hand. When he’d captured her fingers in his, Danny grinned. “Look at what you’ve done to this place. It’s a deadly miracle.”

“It is?” she said, excitement suffusing her tone. “It’s…deadly. Yes. I’ve been so wrapped up in all the details that sometimes I forget to look at the big picture. It’s going to be beautiful when it’s all done.”

“And you’re in charge of all this?”

“Yes. I’m the project manager. The boss.” She paused, sending him a suspicious look, then slowly climbed down the ladder. “Is that going to be a problem?”

He held on to her hand, smoothing his fingers over the back of her wrist. “You being in charge? Why would that be a problem?”

“Some men don’t like working for women. I’ve had to fire a handful of them on this project because they wouldn’t listen to me. They were…insubordinate. And dismissive. And rude.”

“This isn’t the type of job that women usually do,” Danny said. “But in all honesty, I usually work for the woman of the house so there’s no problem that I can see.”

She slowly withdrew her hand from his. “Come on, let’s go to my office. I’ve got a lot of the old hardware there and a list of what we need done.”

Danny followed her through the dining room and down a narrow hall behind the stairs. She stopped to open a door, but it appeared to be stuck. As Jordan struggled with it, Danny reached around her to help. “Here, let me give it a try.”

“No,” she insisted. “I can get it.” She shoved her shoulder against the door, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s as if someone locked it from the inside.”

Jordan turned to face him and they found themselves in an odd embrace, his hands flat against the door on either side of her, trapped in the small alcove of the doorway. He drew a deep breath, the scent of her perfume touching his nose, and leaned closer. A woman didn’t wear perfume like that unless she wanted to attract a man.

There was no helping it. Nothing to be done. Without even a second thought, Danny brushed a kiss across her lips. It was a tentative contact and he waited for her response, bracing himself for a slap across the face or a verbal dressing-down.

But to his surprise, Jordan threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, desperately, hungrily, as if she’d gone without for far too long. At first it was a clumsy kiss, but then Danny took her face between his hands and softly tempered her frenzy with a carefully measured assault.

Almost immediately, she melted against him, her body going limp. A tiny groan slipped from her throat and he drew back and looked down into her flushed face. Her eyes were still closed and he couldn’t tell from her expression what she was thinking. Was she embarrassed by her actions? Or well-pleased?