“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.”