Free Man about the House (Wicked Wraiths) by Mina Carter Page B

no. Not exactly.”
    He looked over his shoulder. Janelle followed his gaze. Her heart fell. There, seated at the table he was looking at, were two women. One was leaning down to adjust the ankle strap on her shoe and the other… Janelle’s heart sank even lower. The other one was just stunning. Tall and slender, her red hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, and her perfect porcelain skin had Janelle green with envy.
    She sighed. There was no way, with a woman like that at his side, he was actually interested in her, plain and plump Janelle. “I’ll be over in a moment to clear the table. Just let me get rid of these.”
     
    Corvin turned around to see her disappearing into the crowd. He was momentarily distracted by the sight of her delectable ass, rounded and curvy, then realised she was getting away. “Hey, wait! Come back.”
    It was too late. She was already gone, lost in the heaving mass on the dance floor, and at her height, Corvin had no chance of spotting her.
    “Great, just bloody great. Real smooth, Casanova. You didn’t even get her name.” He stomped back to the table and slid onto a barstool. “What is it with fucking women?”
    Hex popped his head up from fiddling with his shoes. “Fucking women? Where? When?”
    Storm slapped him upside the head smartly. “Not fucking women, idiot. He means fuck — never mind, forget it.” She stopped halfway through and sighed, rolling her eyes at Hex’s rapt expression. “Men. One-track minds. What’s up, Cor?”
    Corvin shrugged one shoulder. Grabbing his drink he lifted the bottle to his lips and downed half in a series of long swallows. The glass base clinked as he set it back on the table.
    “Drink up. Quickly,” he ordered, catching his breath before lifting the bottle again.
    The two picked their drinks up obediently. That didn’t surprise Corvin. Hex in particular didn’t need an excuse to drink.
    “Why? We moving on?” Hex cut a longing glance at the dance floor. Even just one or two to drink and he became a dance diva, assured of his talent and supremacy on the floor. Luckily his divine blood didn’t allow him to be anything less than graceful, much to Corvin’s irritation. Would have been so much easier if Hex dumped himself on his ass regularly; that way he and Storm wouldn’t have so much of an issue getting him to leave at closing time.
    “Nope. I just want another drink.”
    Corvin emptied the bottle and slammed it down on the table, instantly signaling the waiter to bring another round. His mystery woman was obviously a bar employee and clearing glasses. She’d escaped him for the moment. He’d just have to give her a reason to come out of hiding. If it meant drinking the bar dry, then that’s what he’d do.
    Money wasn’t an issue and neither was inebriation. He could get as drunk as a skunk, but all that would happen was he’d wake up in the morning with a stinking hangover. No alcohol poisoning or stomach pumps in his future, thank you very much.
    “Woo-hoo! Man’s on a mission… Hey, will you stop doing that?” Hex complained as Storm clipped him around the ear again.
    “Well, keep your mouth shut and stop talking shit then, you bimbo,” she shot back, looking at Corvin with an odd look in her eye. He ignored it, concentrating on the drinks the waiter was offloading onto the table. In an undertone, he ordered the guy to get another round ready.
    “So, big man,” Storm lined her drink up with the one she was halfway through, “what’s going on? Did the pot washer piss you off, and you plan on making his life hell? Or does this have something to do with the curvy glass collector who blew you off over there?”
    Sometimes Storm was a little too perceptive for Corvin’s liking. “Just shut up and drink, okay?”
    Storm shrugged her shoulders and picked her glass up. “Whatever you say, boss.”
    Several rounds later and the table began to resemble the glass section of a hardware store. They were still missing