Lacybourne Manor (Page 22)

Lacybourne Manor (Ghosts and Reincarnation #3)(22)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“For your date’s friends, I know,” he interrupted her then continued. “Your date, I might add, saw this gentleman…” Sibyl was not looking at him, couldn’t make herself look at him. She wasn’t even certain she wished to believe he was actually there. She noticed from the corners of her eyes that he jerked his head angrily in the direction of the drunk man. “Begin to approach you and did nothing about it.”

She didn’t respond. There was nothing to say.

Steve, unfortunately, was a jerk.

The drunk man said something though, straight into his nearly finished pint, “Criminal. Leave a pretty girl in the clutches of a degenerate like me.” Then he giggled to himself.

Sibyl felt hysterical laughter bubbling up her own throat but she chased it down with a gulp and turned her mind to escape.

Before she could Colin Morgan remarked, “You made light work of that.”

At this unusual comment, she finally lifted her eyes to the hard planes of his face, having to twist around and glance over her shoulder and she saw he was looking over his own at Steve. He obviously recognised the paramedic who’d come to his house.

Again, she didn’t respond. He was still standing so close to her that his chest was resting lightly against her back.

“Mr. Morgan, if you wouldn’t mind moving away,” she whispered.

He apparently did mind because he didn’t move.

“Jason,” his voice rang with authority and the bartender, who was listening to the orders of some patrons, turned his head immediately.

“Yeah, Mr. Morgan?”

“Get Shannon to take those pints to the gentlemen over there,” Colin ordered, motioning to Steve and his group with his head. “And get her to get the women with them a drink for Christ’s sake.”

“Yes, Mr. Morgan,” and Jason jogged off obediently to find the unknown Shannon.

Sibyl stared at Colin in dismay.

“Do you,” Sibyl hesitated, “own this club?”

His eyes finally dropped to her and for some reason her breath caught when she felt the full force of them on her face.

“A third of it, yes,” he answered.

Sibyl looked around the place for the first time.

It was jam packed. There were three bars she could see, two on the lower floor, one on a balcony that wrapped around the club and all of them were surrounded by people buying drinks.

It was clearly a hip hotspot for young, trendy people. Not the place she would expect Colin Morgan to spend his time, unless he had a penchant for underfed, under-clothed and nearly underage girls.

Her face must have told him what she was thinking for he said, “I was here for a meeting. It ran long. I was leaving when I saw you leave your medic, go to the bar and choose the unfortunate position of standing by Paul.”

The drunk man lifted his glass in salute.

“You know him?” Sibyl was astonished.

“Here every night,” Paul offered.

“Do you get drunk every night?” Sibyl asked, her voice edged in concern.

“Every night,” Paul confirmed happily and nodded his head sloppily.

Not thinking, Sibyl grabbed her own drink and, in the tight space allowed by Colin and the bar, she whirled around then pushed him back, her hand on his chest.

One step, two then she got up on tiptoe, leaned toward his ear and whispered fiercely, “That man is an alcoholic!”

“I can hear you,” Paul sing-songed and Sibyl closed her eyes in distress.

When she opened them, Colin Morgan was grinning at her.

Grinning at her.

And if she thought his voice sounded lethal several minutes before, it was nothing compared to the entirely different killer wattage of his grin.

She mentally shrugged off her highly pleasant reaction to his grin, put her hand back to his chest and pushed him back again, this time she pushed him around the side of the bar. She was so determined, she didn’t process the fact that he let her do this.

“You have to do something!” she demanded when they’d stopped well away from Paul.

“About what?” Colin was watching her like Steve had watched her earlier, as if she was the most fascinating creature in the world. Except, when Colin did it, she felt a warmth seep into her belly that she did not feel when Steve did it.

“About Paul,” she explained, her voice showing her aggravation at his obtuseness just as it hid her reaction to his proximity. “If he comes here every night and gets that inebriated, he’s clearly an alcoholic. You can’t keep serving him.”

The deadly-delicious grin was back. “He’s our best customer.”

Sibyl was appalled.

“Mr. Morgan, that is just… completely just…” she was at a loss for words then she found them, “morally irresponsible.”

The grin turned into a full-fledged, white smile, the wattage amping up so high, Sibyl was nearly dazzled.

Although he was barely a foot from her, he leaned in closer.

“Morally irresponsible?” he repeated.

She could swear his tone was teasing.

Teasing!

Was this the man who had held her hostage, forced her to undress in front of him, accosted her in his entryway and shouted and cursed at her in his library?

Yes, she reminded herself, it was.

She straightened her shoulders.

“We must look after our neighbours,” she lectured.

“Really?” he asked, his eyes dancing and not with the jumping lights in the club.

“Yes, especially you,” Sibyl informed him.

For some unknown reason, he was walking around her and she had to turn in a staccato pirouette to follow him.

“Especially me?” he asked, stopped abruptly and took a quick step forward in a way that was predatory. This caused her to take a step back and, when she did so, she hit a wall. His hand came up to rest beside her head and he leaned into her again. She had the wall of the club to her back, him to her front (close to her front) and his arm imprisoning her on the right.

She was trapped.

Her mind screamed for flight but she stood her ground. “Yes, especially you. As the owner of this club –”

“Part owner,” he interrupted her, still smiling as if she was highly entertaining.

“Part owner,” she amended quickly and steeled herself against that smile and the annoyance she felt at his obvious amusement. “You have responsibilities.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “You’re absolutely correct. I’m responsible for keeping the money coming in.”

She spluttered at this outrageous, yet teasing remark then saved herself by taking a deep breath. “You also have a responsibility to your patrons.”