Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Asteep set of stairs led up to a pale blue door, and on each step was a painted oil can containing a geranium, their red petals still bursting with colour in the gloom.
The plants matched her red halter neck dress perfectly.
Charlotte would love the arty touch on the steps, and maybe it was the sort of thing that would break her painting drought, not that she’d be bringing Charlotte, or indeed anyone else, up here.
The door was opened before she reached the top of the stairs, and a smiling Giannis, barefoot and dressed in a white linen shirt and jeans, ushered her in. He must have been watching out for her, which was a bit freaky.
There were a couple too many shirt buttons undone for her liking – she’d seen plenty of his chest during the day – but it felt good to be enfolded in his arms, and his slightly too powerful aftershave was a wonderful mix of lemons, salt and basil.
‘Sofia. Welcome.’
He beckoned to her to follow him through the living space, painted a simple white, with a single sofa and couple of blue rugs on the rough tiled floor.
She caught a fleeting glimpse of a big wooden bed through a partly opened door, but he swiftly led her away from the bedroom and up a few stairs to a roof terrace.
Sofia took a moment to appreciate the view spread out below them, clusters of pulsating lights dancing all along the coast, lit-up boats in the harbour swaying in the breeze and the sound of a guitarist somewhere picking out a mournful tune.
There were fairy lights all around the railings that enclosed the terrace, and a tiny blue metal table was set with a bottle of wine, two glasses and a bowl of olives.
Luckily, she’d already eaten, but she hadn’t come here for food, and they both knew it.
A burning candle gave out the fragrance of a whole orange grove.
As a seduction scene, she had a very strong feeling it had been used more than once.
Giannis took her hand and escorted her to the table.
He insisted on pulling out her chair with a theatrical flourish and made sure she was seated before he took his own seat.
His hand grasped the wine bottle like it was an extra-large paddle, his long brown fingers almost reaching all the way round the glass.
‘Shall we?’
‘Shall we what?’
All the attention was a bit overwhelming. A small frown messed up his perfect smile.
‘Have some wine.’
‘Oh yes, of course.’
Two glasses in, and conversation was flagging. She really didn’t want to hear any more about paddleboarding, kite surfing or parascending as long as she lived. Things needed to move on a bit.
She took his hand this time and gave him her best sultry smile, which did the trick. It was almost too easy. He gathered up the bottle and glasses and virtually pushed her down the stairs.
‘We can finish this somewhere more comfortable.’
‘Super.’
After a deep, hard kiss in the living room he carefully untied the bow at her neck and let her dress fall to the floor, leaving her in just tiny white briefs and a pair of red espadrilles.
‘Wow, Sofia, you really are gorgeous.’
His own clothes come off in seconds, and she wondered if he’d been a stripper in a previous life.
Or maybe he still managed to alternate it with paddleboard instructing.
They both required a certain amount of balance.
He obviously didn’t bother with underwear, but a quick glance told her he was primed and ready to go.
She hadn’t expected to be picked up and carried the couple of feet to the bedroom, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation.
He laid her on his bed with a reverence she’d only previously seen him use when talking about a topflight paddleboard he’d imported from America.
The whole thing felt surreal. It was like it was happening to someone else.
Untying the ankle straps of her espadrilles took him mere seconds and as her shoes hit the floor with a bang she tried not to think about how many euros they’d cost. Her pants he pulled down with his teeth, which made her wonder if it was one of his signature moves.
If so, it needed a little practice. It took quite a while for him to finally get them over her feet.
She needed to banish the vision of him as a naughty puppy, who had raided the laundry basket, and focus.
But his body in the low light was everything she knew it would be, and his toned, tanned skin up close was warm to the touch.
Round one of the sex was good, very good, verging on excellent in fact, hard and intense, with no talking, just as she liked it.
But although her body responded all the way to the end goal, her mind was still somewhere else.
In the final seconds before she went over the edge, Sofia imagined looking down at herself from the ceiling, one of two anonymous tanned bodies writhing on white sheets beneath her.
A wave of sadness washed over her, so intense and unexpected that she cried out into the night.
‘Oh baby. Yeah, that’s it. Make all the noise you want.’
Back in the moment, Sofia knew that round two was out of the question, for her anyway.
Usually with younger guys, and she only really dated younger guys, she’d expect to move on to rounds two and three fairly quickly, but it wasn’t going to happen this time.
Giannis peeled himself off her and lay on his back, a fine sheen of sweat glazing his hair free chest and reminding her of an oven ready chicken.
His punch into the air caused her to look away, lest she burst out laughing.
‘That was fantastic. You really inspire me.’
He leaned over to kiss her just as she rolled onto her side, so his wet lips landed on her back and his voice was muffled.
‘The night has only just begun, Sofia. We have all the time in the world… Time to explore each other properly.’
Giannis’s wink when she turned back to face him, coupled with his clichéd conversation put the seal on it.
‘Just need the loo. Back in a second.’
‘OK, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting…’
Sweetheart! She certainly wasn’t his sweetheart. Thank goodness that her dress was in the other room. Spying her shoes on her side of the bed, Sofia gathered them up and hid them in front of her as she tiptoed out of the room. Her pants he could keep. He probably had a whole drawer full.
The thought of her underwear as part of a collection was on her mind as she crept out of the apartment and escaped into the street. She’d agreed to the meet-up, and while she insisted any man she slept with wore a condom, the whole thing had left her feeling a tiny bit grubby.
Breakfast next morning was a lively affair. Both her friends chatted away ten to the dozen after all that sleep. Despite her physical workout, Sofia herself had tossed and turned all night, dreaming of being late for important meetings in far-flung rooms.
‘Enjoy your walk last night?’
Maddie’s query had far too much emphasis on the word walk for her liking.
‘Yes, lovely. I really enjoyed exploring all the little backstreets.’
Well, that at least was true. In the past they’d often had a good laugh about some of the men Sofia had hooked up with, but this was one she didn’t particularly want to share.
Thankfully, the hotel owner, Maria, bustled over at that point to take them through the breakfast specials, carrying a full plate.
‘Today, for our guests, we have spanakópita, the king of pies.’
She put her fingers to her lips and kissed the air.
‘The fresh spinach and the salty feta filling go so well together.’
A coquettish smile appeared on Maria’s face, and Sofia could see instantly what she’d looked like as a girl. She served them all a big piece before they could accept or refuse.
‘It’s been said that my spanakópita is the best on the island. Obviously, you must judge for yourselves. Eat, please.’
Sofia wondered what else in Maria’s repertoire was ‘the best on the island’.
She’d already used that line about the orange cake.
Did it include everything she cooked? Dutifully she put the piece of pie in her mouth.
Used to just a takeaway coffee on the go in London, all this early morning eating was totally alien, but she could get used to it.
Having been the same weight her whole adult life, she’d definitely put on a few pounds since arriving in Greece, but that was the least of her worries.
She wouldn’t be going into court in her smart black suits anymore.
Who would care if they no longer fitted?
As advertised, the pie was indeed delicious, the crunchy filo pastry making way for a savoury explosion in her mouth, and all three of them hoovered up every last bite.
Maria smiled at the empty plates. As she went to walk away, she turned back for a moment as if she’d forgotten something.
‘Oh yes. I’m supposed to tell you we also have strapatsáda today, scrambled eggs with tomatoes and feta.’
A theatrical shrug of the shoulders followed.
‘Sadly, for you it wasn’t made by me, but by our chef, Panos. You might want to try it I guess, if you are not too full after more spanakópita.’
Maria left for the reception area as a guest was waiting to check out.
The three of them locked eyes.
Charlotte smiled.
‘Dare we try the strapatsáda?’
Maddie got up from the table.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. We’re three women in our sixties. We’re not going to be cowed by all this competitive cooking malarkey. I’m getting in there.’
Sofia put her hands up.
‘I’m full, honestly.’
Charlotte nodded.
‘So am I.’
Maddie pursed her lips at her blonde friend.
‘Liar. You’re just scared of Maria.’
Charlotte held up her hand and squeezed her thumb and forefinger together to leave a tiny gap.
‘Just a teeny bit.’
Sofia shouted at Maddie’s rapidly departing back.
‘Don’t go bonkers. Remember we’ve got lunch in a few hours.’