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.