Jeffrey Siger - An Aegean Prophecy

Andreas shrugged and said to Vladimir and Katerina, ‘What can I do, but please, won’t the two of you join us? I’d love for you to meet Barbara.’

Vladimir paused and drew in a breath. He was the one who gave audiences. He stared at Andreas, then glanced up at the cross, and brought his eyes down so that they lingered on that gorgeous woman. He willed her to catch his eyes, but she never looked his way. Vladimir swallowed and smiled. ‘It would be our pleasure.’

Big dogs ruled. So when Vladimir moved over to Barbara’s table everyone made room for him to sit beside her, on the other side from Andreas. Katerina pushed herself in next to Vladimir, but she might as well have been in Siberia for all the attention he paid her. He kept trying to start a conversation with Barbara but she treated him as if he were a waiter pressing for her order, and kept leaning forward to speak to her friends around the table in Greek.

Andreas kept a sideways watch on the Russian’s eyes. They hadn’t moved from Barbara since he sat down. Every time she leaned forward he stared at her face, every time she sat back to laugh or sip her wine he closed them as if inhaling the scent of her hair. Rarely did his eyes stray down to her backless, turquoise sundress. A feat Andreas admired, considering his own inability to resist peeking at her virtually exposed breasts far more than he’d like Lila to know.

Barbara had deflected Vladimir’s overtures enough times to make him look frustrated, but hopefully not enough to make him decide to give up and leave. Andreas put his hand on Barbara’s bare back and gently nudged her forward. Then waved to Vladimir to lean in, over her back. His face was there in an instant.

Andreas shrugged and said in English, ‘I’m sorry that everyone is speaking Greek.’

‘Don’t worry, it’s no problem.’

Andreas knew he wasn’t serious. Men like Vladimir never expected to be left out of any conversation. ‘Still, I’m sure you’d be more gracious in your country.’

Vladimir smiled, sat up, and said something in Russian to one of his bodyguards hovering nearby. In seconds three bottles of ice-cold vodka appeared, shots were poured, and lifted in a toast. ‘To Greece,’ Vladimir said.

‘To Russia,’ added Andreas.

The two men smiled at each other, clinked glasses, did the same with Barbara, and downed their shots. That became their ritual over the next hour and a half. Vodka shots separated by animated conversation in English over Barbara’s naked back, with both men gesturing and touching her in the process. She didn’t seem to mind; it was as if she didn’t even notice.

It now was five thirty in the morning and the place was jammed. Vladimir’s head was halfway across Barbara’s back, his hand down about her waist, just resting there, until needed for a gesture. Both men clearly were feeling the vodka.

‘So, my friend, what was it you wanted to ask me?’

Andreas smiled. ‘I see Katerina can keep a secret.’

Vladimir laughed. ‘Yes, so I’ve noticed.’ They slapped high fives and Vladimir let his hand slide along Barbara’s back to its resting place below. ‘No, really, if I can help you, it would be my honor.’

Andreas shook his head. ‘No reason to get you involved. The investigation has been shut down. No one wants to touch it.’

‘Sounds interesting.’

‘Too interesting I’m afraid. But once I caught the three Serbian bastards who killed the monk, no one wanted to go further with it. Case closed.’

‘Was that why you wanted to talk to me, about the Serbs?’ He gestured with his head to one of his men to pour another round. His hand never moved from Barbara’s back.

‘No, I was more interested in another guy.’

‘What guy?’

‘I don’t know, the dead monk had some press clippings on him in Serbian about a war criminal who died years ago in Switzerland. I thought you might know somebody who could tell us about the guy in the clippings.’

‘Why would you care about a dead war criminal?’

‘The question is, “Why would an old monk care about a dead war criminal?”’

They lifted their shots, clinked, and drank. Thankfully, thought Andreas, Barbara had stopped doing shots a half hour ago.

Andreas leaned in closer over Barbara’s back. ‘Frankly, Vladimir, I wanted your help in getting some of your boys back home to take a look at what we found on the dead monk’s computer. He was trying to prove Russians were behind all of the Greek Church’s troubles on Mount Athos.’ Andreas sat back up. ‘But what the hell, I left the stuff at Barbara’s. Doesn’t matter anymore anyway.’ He poured himself another shot. ‘No one wants to find out if all this “blame the Russians” talk is for real.’ He chugged the drink. ‘Or who might be behind it.’

Vladimir stared at Andreas, and slowly stroked Barbara’s back.

Andreas said nothing more. Anything else would be overkill. He knew Vladimir was sober enough to comprehend everything he’d said, for the Russian’s mind was set on getting Andreas drunk enough to get a shot at Barbara’s panties. Good luck to him.

Vladimir said something in Russian to one of his bodyguards, then poured another round for everyone at the table. ‘To us, the night is young.’

It was nearly eight in the morning when they got back to Barbara’s house. Barbara resisted Vladimir’s last-minute effort to get the two of them wasted enough to ‘watch the sunrise from one of my balconies,’ by dumping a string of ‘goodbye shots’ on the floor, a sleight-of-hand technique she’d obviously mastered long ago. Andreas, on the other hand, was, as they say in French, ‘shit-faced.’ Barbara also resisted Vladimir’s offer of a ride home, steering Andreas into a taxi instead.

As soon as they were out of the taxi she said, ‘No way I wanted him pushing himself into my house for a nightcap.’

Andreas took that to mean she was afraid he might have assaulted her. ‘Don’t worry, Barbara, drunk or not, if he’d tried anything-’

She was fumbling for her key in her bag. ‘It wasn’t Vladimir I was worried about.’

‘Me?’

She opened the door and pushed him inside. ‘No, silly, me.’

He stared at her.

She shrugged. ‘My late night started out naked in a hot tub with an absolutely gorgeous gay man, and I’ve had two utterly handsome men running their hands up and down my bare back for the rest of the evening. Darling, I’m horny as hell.’

Andreas knew his next word, even gesture, would get him laid for sure right on the spot. He just stared and gave a silly grin.

She laughed. ‘Yeah, you really love her.’ Barbara turned and walked toward the bedroom. ‘Come on lover boy, we’ve got to keep up appearances.’

He did as she said, but as soon as he saw the bed, he fell on it face down and was out in seconds.

Andreas had no idea how long he’d slept, but when he woke he was on his back, stark naked, and Barbara was beside him, just as naked but asleep on her belly. She must have undressed him and turned him over. No way he did anything. He definitely would have remembered that ass. And those tits, he could see them from the side. The thought had him erect. All he had to do was roll over slightly and he’d be inside her.

She might not even notice at first, and certainly wouldn’t mind. It would be all so simple… easy… quick… and delicious. I could just slip right inside her, then move back and forth slowly, she’d start to moan and we’d be off to the races. Damn, I want her. He was so hard at the thought that he felt the sort of throb he’d get near the verge of coming.

He shook himself, rolled off the bed, and headed into the bathroom. Thank God I’m sober, he thought. Just a little bit drunk, no way I wouldn’t be pounding into her this very second. He reached down and touched himself, thinking it might not be a bad idea to masturbate. He stroked himself twice, then stopped. He froze, felt some more, then turned and walked back into the bedroom and over to the table on Barbara’s side of the bed. He picked up a purple-capped, clear plastic bottle: ‘AstroglideTM Personal lubricant and moisturizer.’