It felt like hours, but in reality, it must have been a few minutes before he burst back out of the door looking totally casual and cheerful. He even stopped to greet a man happily.
"Dimitri. Kalimera."
"Kalimera" the other man waved at him.
He climbed back into the car, and without saying a single word, started driving again as if everything was completely normal. Which it was not! He gave me a quick sideways glance and then flashed me a small, satisfied smile.
"What happened? Did you... you know?" Had he seriously just walked into the bar and beat the guy up? I wasn't sure whether I should be completely flattered by this knight in shining armor gesture, or whether I should be a bit scared of him. Maybe he was one of those guys who suddenly snapped?
"No, of course not. But he did say that's he's extremely sorry."
"Did he?"
"He realizes that he acted like a bastard and you didn't deserve to be treated like that."
"Really?"
"Yes... he said that when he saw you, you were so beautiful that he couldn't help himself."
"He said I was beautiful?" I couldn't keep the sarcastic skepticism out of my voice.
"Yes. He says you have the most beautiful eyes and smile that he's ever seen."
I rolled my eyes. "Really?"
"Yes, he also says you should wear your hair down more often." Dimitri turned and smiled at me playfully.
"No he didn't." I said sharply.
His playful smile grew bigger, "Just because he didn't say it, doesn't mean it's not true."
A strange silence filled the car. What was this man playing at? His actions confused me beyond measure. He had this way of making me feel so much better about myself, and it felt wonderful, but how much of it was an act? He was the consummate Greek playboy after all. He had probably just honed his skills to such an extent that he knew exactly what to say and do to make a woman feel special. But to what end?
The car finally stopped outside a small quaint, white cave house with a blue gate and white wall. I climbed out of the car too enthusiastically, which I shouldn't have done. It felt like all the alcohol had settled while I was driving, but upon jumping I seemed to have shaken it all up again.
My head felt woozy once more and my eyes started to blur the shapes around me. It was so bad that I needed to hold onto the car door to steady myself for moment or two.
I carefully followed Dimitri into a small well-appointed courtyard. In the middle stood a blue table and two chairs, flanked by two small olives trees and some Bougainvillea – which I have come to understand is an absolute requisite in these parts – hung from the wall. He took a key out of his pocket and slipped it into the lock.
"Where are we?"
"My house." He turned and smiled again as he started leading me inside. I stopped dead on the threshold.
"This isn't my hotel." I was stating the obvious and took a step back as if the entrance to his house were the gates of hell. Dramatic, I know. I took another step back but miscalculated the slope. I wobbled for a second or two and was just about to fall backwards when an arm shot out, grabbed me around the waist and pulled me up. With a thud, my body slammed into his, our chests pressing up against each other.
His arm tightened around me and I could feel the heat of his hand on my lower back. Our faces were close now. Our noses were almost touching and our lips were mere centimeters away. The sensations running through my body were enough to make me shiver. I hoped he hadn't felt that. My eyes were focused on his collarbones, deliberately, I didn't think I had the guts to lift them and look into his eyes. If I was a confident, flirty girl I might have just leaned in and kissed him, but I wasn't. I had the self-esteem of a tree stump. I was vaguely aware of his hand lifting to the side of my head and I wondered if he was going to pull another twig out of my hair. Instead, he softly pushed my hair back out of my face. My legs felt like they were going to collapse under me, and I wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or my intoxication with Dimitri. I suddenly became very self-conscious and the sudden proximity to his face, was just way, way too much for me to bear. I quickly wiggled my way out of his grasp.
"I want to go to my hotel." I said, as every fiber and cell in my body shouted something completely different.
"Take me to your room and have sex with me. Sex. Room. Now. Sex!"
"Do you really think I'm going to drop you off at your hotel like this."
"Like what?" my eyes snapped back up to meet his.
"You've obviously had a really bad night and perhaps you could do with a friend right now." He flashed me a smile that almost made me forget my name, the country I was in, perhaps even the planet I lived on – was this the milky way?
He'd put it so nicely too. Using such euphemisms like "bad night" "needed a friend".
I was conflicted. I paused and looked at his little door. It looked so innocent. It was hard to imagine that he even lived here. He looked more like the kind of guy who would live in a modern penthouse apartment with lots of glass and chrome and marble and phallic looking pillars, and perhaps a secret sex room. But this place looked rustic. Charming even. Friendly. Maybe it was his girlfriend's place?
"I don't want to intrude on you and... " I pointed into the room behind him.
"There's no one here. Just me."
I wasn't sure if this should make me feel pleased or scared. He was basically a stranger. But he couldn't be too dodgy; otherwise the travel company wouldn't use him as a tour guide? Surely they would check someone's credentials before putting them on the payroll? What was I thinking... of course he could be dodgy. People hire sickos and weirdoes and perverted flashers all the time. They probably don't even know it- I'm pretty sure it's not the kind of thing that comes up in job interviews regularly, or becomes fodder around the water cooler. So Yes, Dimitri Spiros could be as dodgy as fuck!
"I don't bite." He said with another smile that was less panty-dropping and more reassuring. "But if you really want to go to the hotel, I'll take you."
He paused and looked at me expectantly. Walk into strangers home? Not walk into strangers home? Hot stranger.
If I were myself I think the answer would be glaringly, screamingly obvious, but since that Wednesday morning mental breakdown – I wasn't sure about anything anymore and was starting to long for the reassuring confines of a padded room.
Perhaps I was having a quarter-life crisis. I'd read about them and apparently they are as real as the crisis that sees your father buying himself Chuck Norris cut offs, getting a gym contract and setting up a Twitter profile. I was also at least three drinks (Ok, at least six) over the legal limit and it was clearly messing with the part of my brain that usually dispensed with sound, solid advice. It was messing with my brain full stop, actually.
"So?" he asked again. "Are you coming?"
"Fine. But let me just say that I'm a dentist so I'm no stranger to inflicting pain on people so if you dare try anything I'll..." I slapped my hand over my mouth. What the hell had I just said?
"Sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you are some kind of hot, Greek playboy who takes advantage of....SHIT!" My hand flew up to my mouth again.
"Sorry. Sorry! Sorry! I really didn't mean to say that you were a hot either, like I'm some kind of woman with a lusty crush.... FUCK!"
This time I slapped both my hands across over my mouth and bit my lip to stop it all from falling out. What was happening to me? Normally I had filters that stopped me from vomiting out the first thing that comes to mind. Why weren't the filters working?. Alcohol induced injury?
Dimitri laughed. "No worries. I'm a perfect gentleman."
"You don't look like a gentleman." My head screamed, luckily my hands were over my mouth.
He held the door open with a smile that seemed to have spread from ear to ear now. I quickly averted my gaze and looked at my ever so large feet as I walked into his house hoping to hell that whoever was controlling my mouth would stop soon.
The interior of his place was just as surprising as the outside, if not more so. The first thing that caught my eye was the giant white Persian cat perched on the small wooden kitchen table. He walked up to it and gave it a scratch on the head, the creature purred happily. I pinched my nose and tried to hold back a sneeze. This was so incongruent with the image I had of him. Hot sexy model and fluffy Persian cat? This didn't quite seem right. Not that I could say for sure what kind of pet would suit him... perhaps something sleek. A Siamese cat? A puma? A dangerous snake?
I looked around the room and nothing looked right. The room was small and much like my hotel room, looked more like the inside of a cave. A small kitchen table, a bowl of fruit that looked like it had been placed perfectly like he was waiting for The Garden and Home magazine to pop round for a photoshoot.
I glanced to my left, a small lounge area with a blue sofa and perfectly laid out scatter cushions. A large bookcase jam packed with books stood to the left of the sofa – for show? The coffee table in front of the sofa had a vase of flowers on it - flowers? The room was so neat it looked like no one had ever lived here. Everything looked clean and perfect.
Where were the bachelor beer cans on the floor? The self-absorbed pictures of himself hanging on the wall? The hot model panties strewn across the sofa? I looked up and realized that he was watching me.
"What?" he asked looking vaguely concerned.
"It's so.. so neat."
Dimitri walked over to the stove and turned it on, "That's what growing up with six sisters will do to you." His voice had a lightness to it.
"Six?" I echoed.
"Sisters." He said again with a teasing tone to his voice. "I had to take showers at my neighbors' house. Our bathroom was always busy."
"I bet your neighbor enjoyed that." Oh fuck! I shouldn't have taken my hands off my mouth, clearly it was still not to be trusted. Maybe if I deflected quickly he wouldn't notice. "Did you know that a shower uses about two gallons of water per minute?"
He smiled again, "I do now. Take a seat." He indicated with his large muscular arm.
It was only now that I realized what he was wearing. A causal pair of knee length shorts and a really worn V-neck shirt that looked like the kind of thing he slept in. It was so worn and stretched that the V hung low enough to get a glimpse of his rather solid, tanned surfer-esque chest. The whole ensemble might have looked casual, but put a horse next to him, an emaciated woman in a cardigan and give him a Polo stick, and I think you would have had a full-page high fashion spread.
"Actually, can I use your bathroom, I'd like to wash my leg?"
"Here." He turned around with a damp cloth and a tube of antiseptic ointment – for a second I was impressed. I took the warm damp cloth from him and started to bend over, but the one legged flamingo thing wasn't really working for me in the current state I was in.
"Sit down." Dimitri took me by the hand and led me over to the small sofa. Truthfully, I was very grateful for the invitation. My legs were starting to feel like they were overcooked strands of spaghetti and my head felt like someone had poured fizzy liquid into my skull.
I collapsed into the sofa with a loud thump - great, so ladylike. The sofa was soft, the pillows rather fluffy and it was exactly what my sore body needed.
"Let me." Dimitri took the cloth and started dabbing my leg. It stung and I winced.
"Sorry." He looked up at me with what looked like genuine concern in his eyes.
"It's okay. I'll do it." I reached for the cloth and took it from him, our fingers grazed and I was overcome with a new stinging sensation, and it wasn't coming from my leg this time. I went about wiping and disinfecting my wounds thoroughly, they weren't serious or anything, no stitches or a trip to the emergency room necessary. When I was finished I glanced up at Dimitri and couldn't help but smile and let out a small chuckle. He was sitting on the sofa wearing my glasses casually waiting for me to notice them.
"You found them." I reached out and took them off his face. "Thanks."
"It's a pleasure. Although I did consider not giving them back to you at all."
"Why?"
"Despite the fact that they protect your eyes against harmful UV rays..." he smiled at me. How did he remember everything I said to him "You wear them far too much, and your eyes-"
"I know. Weird."
"No. You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. "
His words slammed into me like a slab of concrete falling from the sky and hitting you on the head. We locked eyes and a strange feeling worked its way down my spine – not quite shivers or tingles, something even more paralyzing. He held my gaze and I felt like I couldn't blink.
"It's hard not to stare at them," he finally looked away and broke the moment when a sound behind us caught out attention. Dimitri got up and walked towards the kitchen. He looked like he knew his way around the kitchen, he was moving around swiftly while his cat wove in and out of his legs, rubbing up against him as she went. I wondered how many women would trade places with that cat it they could... I might.
'Lucky cat." I jumped off the couch at the sound of my own voice. I'd thought I'd said that in my head. I seriously hoped Dimitri hadn't heard me, but the quick, amused backwards glance he gave me told me he had.
"I'm so sorry. "I stuttered. "I just don't know what's come over me lately, I assure you, this is not me. I don't even drink. I swear."
"It's Ok. It's actually refreshing to hear someone speak their mind."
"No! It's not ok. That's what you don't understand. I don't speak my mind. Ever. I'm not this kind of person."
Dimitri stopped fiddling with the pot on the stove and began walking towards me in a manner that plunged my brain straight back into the gutter.
God, I was so in lust with him.
"Here." He held his hand out and presented me with a thimble-sized cup of black liquid. I took the thing tentatively and peered inside. The cup looked like it was full of thick black tar.
"Thanks, but I don't drink –"
"Greek coffee. I suspected that. But maybe it will help."
Maybe it would help me keep my mouth shut? With that thought, I brought the stuff up to my lips and sipped. The mixture was sharp and bitter and almost undrinkable. But I glugged two large sips before I couldn't any longer and placed it down on the table. It started to work it's magic instantly. The black liquid entered my veins and seemed to chase all the alcohol out. Suddenly I felt alert. Very.
"Whew! Strong stuff."
Dimitri nodded with a smile. "So?"
"So what?"
"So...If this isn't you, then who is the intriguing Jane Smith?"
"Intriguing?" I'd heard myself called a lot of things over the years but intriguing had never been one of them.
"Very," he said. "So who is the real Jane?"
"Who is the real Jane?" I repeated his words out loud, contemplating them as I went. I rolled them around in my mind a few times. I felt vaguely detached from myself now, as if I could look at things objectively. For starters, the Jane Smith I knew, and had known my whole life, wouldn't be here. She wouldn't ever find herself in a situation like this, sitting next to a man like him. She would be at home in her neat apartment with the laminate wooden flooring, cooking herself a healthy microwave meal, feeding her pet chameleon and setting down to read the latest, "Dental Periodical" making sure she was ahead of all the latest oral trends. If she was feeling wild and crazy, she might be out having a glass of wine with her friends.
"She's not the person sitting with you on the sofa right now, that's for sure."
"See, I told you, intriguing."
"Not intriguing. Boring. I can assure you that I am the most boring person you will ever meet in your entire life."
Dimitri studied me for a moment or two as if he was unsure of what to say. He looked confused by my answer.
"Never mind. You wouldn't understand, I barely understand it all myself, so it would be a totally useless exercise trying to explain to someone else what's going on with me at the moment when I don't even know myself."
"Why don't you try me?" he sat back and crossed his legs. Hot. The coffee buzzed through my brain, which felt more alert that it had in a few days.
"Ok, how do I explain this to you without you thinking that I'm completely mad."
"I don't think you're mad."
I tisked, "Well I'm definitely not myself."
"And why not?"
"Because I'm here! In this room, on your sofa, in Greece running around on a stupid whim – trust me, it's soooo unlike me to do something like this! I don't run around chasing invisible ghosts on some kind of weird, barely there hunch and get drunk in bars and then throw drinks in people's faces and run and fall and trip into the night and ... WHOA... this coffee is really strong! See, and I don't even drink coffee. Just more proof that I am not myself."
I stopped my rant and looked up at Dimitri, he seemed to be smiling which was not the reaction I was expecting. I was half expecting him to be looking at me as if I had just mutated into some strange alien creature.
"No... no... I don't think you quite grasp the severity of the situation here Dimitri." I continued. "Jane Smith, doctor, Jane Smith I might add. Logical, precise Jane Smith doesn't say things like she's been saying all night. She doesn't speak her mind and say what she wants and does what she wants, she barely knows what she wants anymore and ..." I paused," Oh God, and now I'm speaking about myself in the 3rd person."
Dimitri laughed out loud. It was the second time I'd heard him laugh and it did something to his features that made him even more sexy and appealing. He was mesmerizing and hypnotizing and all of a sudden I was swept away again on a bubble of lusty thoughts where I imagined that the two of us were naked and we were having sex on the beach, except there wasn't any sand there...Urg. I was starting to feel weird again, it felt like a battle between the alcohol and the coffee was being waged in my veins.
"So, if you could do one thing right now, or say one thing that you really wanted to, what would it be?"
"I want to sleep with you."