“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?