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The Bodyguard

Kira:

My aunt's phone call took me by surprise. She explained to me that the guest of Villa Philipides wants to have a hair done, so i was asked to come to the Villa to carry out the work.

Our island is small. In the extreme north lies the fishing village of Santa Eduviges, population of three thousand inhabitants. Our economic income depends fundamentally on fishing and the movement of tourists who each year make extensive tours of these Greek islands.

In the extreme south there are at least five private properties, all belonging to the same man, the millionaire and mysterious Kyrios Alexander Philipides. The inhabitants of the town of Santa Eduviges speak of him with such a level of admiration that anyone would think the man is a god.

Theos. The guy is rich of course, he's filthy rich and possesses the kind of look that makes women fall like wounded doves at his feet, but he has a reputation for spending no more than a few weeks with each lover. He changes them faster than he changes his underwear.

Yet, he's been missing from the tabloids and other gossip magazines for three years. The paparazzi are devastated, Alexander always provided them with juicy news that paid well. There are many journalists who dare to speculate that Eros has finally struck down the powerful tycoon and I don't doubt it.

Something big must have happened three years ago, because since then the businessman commissioned the construction of a monstrous Villa at his side of the island. I have heard the town gossipers whisper that the mansion is intended to be his and his wife's residence. However, there have been no engagement or wedding announcements released to the press.

Not that I'm interested or directly affected... but my aunt works there and... I turn the wheel and brake inches from the entrance gate.

I lower the side window's glass and press the intercom button.

— Hello? I 'm Kira Samaras. I have come at the request of my aunt Yulia Kiriakis.

Nothing, silence.

I press the button again and repeat.

— Hello? Am...

—Go ahead.- a thick, masculine voice answers me. A voice that makes me think of molten chocolate and whiskey. My toes clench and I stare at the intercom in puzzlement.

This hadn't happened to me before, I had never been turned on by a stranger just by hearing his voice.

The entrance gate opens and I step into the entrance garden. The collection of representative statues of the ancient Greek gods, the gurgling fountains and the flowering bushes are impressive. The lawn is envious. I know people who would kill for something like this.

I get out of the car, open the trunk and take out the briefcase that contains my work tools. A man comes to meet me.

Oh, by Aphrodite's thongs!

The guy seems to have been drawn by the angels themselves. He is tall, must be six feet or more, the muscles in his arms are strong and well defined. His serious face denotes maturity and security, his walk is firm and he moves as if he were the owner of everything around him. His lips are thin and his nose is small. What I like the most about his appearance is his straight black hair, he wears a style that allows two thick locks to fall on each side of his profiled face, without making him look effeminate, on the contrary, he has an appearance that makes him look dangerous. He is dressed completely in black, except for a double bacelet of wooden beads that he wears on his left wrist.

—Hello, I am...

— I know who you are.- he whispers without even stopping to look at me.

My eyes widen in surprise. So this guy isn't just goodloocking, he is also the owner of the panty-melting voice from minutes ago. Whoops! If he weren't so curt he would be a perfect candidate for a night of no-strings attached sex... or two.

I go just behind the monumental stranger, skirting the garden, entering the villa through a door and following him.

—Kira, honey. How punctual you are. The girl is waiting for you upstairs in her room. -My aunt greets me while wiping her hands on her apron.- Thanks for bringing her here, Patrick.

Patrick.Mhhhh.

—Give me your cell phone, Miss. - he orders.

—Excuse me? - I protest indignantly.

—It's a security measure, sweety. Kyrios Alex doesn't want information about his Villa or his guests to be leaked.

—But, aunt...

—Do what Patrick asks you, he will return your cell phone as soon as you are ready to leave. Come on, don't be impertinent.

I grunt and deposit my beloved cell phone in Patrick's outstretched palm. He turns and leaves without saying a peep.

—Come, I'll accompany you to meet your client. She is eager for a change of look.- my aunt interlaces her arms in my elbow and guides me towards a gigantic stairs. The object of my lustful thoughts has disappeared.

—Who was that guy, aunt, the one who took my cell phone?

— Ah... he's just your type, isn’t he? All that restrained intensity... - My aunt laughs like a teenager. - That's Patrick Amíntoros, he's Kyrios Alexandros' man of trust and bodyguard.

000

— It's done. - I hum proud of my work. I hand her glasses back to the girl and she looks at herself critically in the bathroom wash mirror.

—It's divine. - she sighs with pleasure, stroking her new sleek and shiny hair with her fingers.

—My works are of quality.- I boast, winking at her. Picking up and cleaning the scissors, combs, brush and the product cover to carry out my job.

She paid me two hundred euros, not bad for a home job. The girl is bursting with happiness. I suspect the transformation has been induced by a desire to impress her host. She isn't the stunning cutie type but she is friendly and talkative and witty. I've had a lot of fun with her. Also, it has been a long time since I practiced my English-speaking skills with someone and her pronunciation has surprised me a lot, it's very good.

— Ready for the eyebrows? - I ask, showing her the tweezers threateningly.

— Could you apply a cream or something first? I don't know about others, but my skin becomes inflamed and it hurts when I get them done.

I rummage through my things in the briefcase. I show him a bottle of Vaseline.

— Is this okay with you?

Smiles broadly.

—It's perfect.

000

After doing Yolie's manicure and pedicure, I gather my things and left her room. She has gotten into the shower to take a bath.

I headed into the hall in search of the stairs, I turned in this corridor, and I turned in the other and nothing. I walked a couple more corridors, nothing. I purse my lips. I was turning and retracing my steps when I see him coming.

He has a very obvious angry expression. He looks at me with a face of hatred, comes clenching his hands into fists.

— May I know what the hell are you doing here, Miss Samaras? I thought it was clear that strangers are not allowed snooping around the Villa.

I look at him narrowing my eyes. Don bombom has a green pepper's character.

—I wasn't snooping.- I correct him, annoyed. - I got lost.

I cross my arms over my chest in a smug attitude. I've to stretch my neck to be able to look at his face. The guy is too tall. (Patrick, his name is Patrick.) I'm five feet tall and I'm having a crick from trying to hold his gaze.

He grimaces in exasperation, grabs my elbow forcing me to spread my arms and yanking along with him.

—Let go of me, you bloody brute!- I protest, struggling to free myself.

— I will . It doesn't give me any pleasure touching you, believe me.

—Let me go, I tell you!

I scramble and struggle trying to get him to let go of me. We turn a corner and are in front of the stairs. He jerks me loose and I stumble.

—All right. I trust that from here you can find the way out.- he mutters, turning his back at me, walking away.

—Didn't you forget something?- I bark after him, stroking my elbow. I have very sensitive skin, the merest pressure on it turns into bruises that last for days.

He turns to me and impatiently pulls a wallet from one of his pockets.

—I'm not asking for money. Yolie already paid for my work. What I want is my cell phone. - I demand in a smug tone.

— Ah, right.- he comments. He takes my cell phone out of another one of his pockets and throws it at me.

Luckily I have good reflexes and I catch it.

I turn, intending to go downstairs, but I hear him say.

— It hasn't stopped ringing in the last three hours. Marco, Sebas and Raúl called you.

I don't even look back at him. I keep going downstairs, heading to the kitchen and looking for my aunt.

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