Page 10 of Judging Duke

But when you watch your brother fall and can do fuck all about it, fear and panic make you do stupid things.

Blaming Duke had been one of them, and even though Robbie didn’t blame him, I still did. If Duke hadn’t made that stupid dare, my brother wouldn’t have spent the last God knows how many years in a wheelchair, unable to walk.

It could have been so much worse. He could have ended up a quadriplegic, resulting in complete paralysis. We thanked our lucky stars every day he hadn’t died.

Holly’s tinkling voice brought me back to the here and now, and I listened as she told me about all the facilities they had on offer; personal trainers, full-body massages, many spa treatments. All done with the utmost discretion. I wondered what Dexter had told them for her to say that?

“We’ve had many stars here, Mr Fletcher. We’re very honoured you chose to spend your stay here.”

She handed the waiting porter a key card.

“Your suite is on the top floor, and Fabian here will help you with your luggage.”

A young man stepped forward and took hold of my suitcase.

“If you’d like to follow me, Mr Fletcher.”

The huge smile on his face almost had me believing he’d at least seen one of my movies. The sway in his hips as he led the way to the penthouse suite convinced me I was right. His tight-fitting trousers stressed every one of his sinuous movements.

He couldn’t have been older than twenty. Did he even shave?

“Here’s your keycard, Mr Fletcher, and if there’sanythingI can do to make your stay here even more enjoyable, just ask for Fabian.”

He pressed the card into my hand with a cheeky wink and closed the door behind him.

I blew out a breath. The sheer audacity of some people when they realised who I was was staggering. Some thought they had the right to be brazen. Just because they’d seen my arse and cock, it did not give them the right to come on to me twenty-four hours a day.

I was Simon Fletcher more than I was Simon Stroker. He was a figment of some PR company’s imagination. A porn star who shagged anyone and let anyone shag him.

I was not that person, not the cocky guy on the screen. That was all a facade.

Lately, I’d been dreaming of the simpler things in life: a stable home, a husband, and a comfortable life.

Was that too much to ask?

I was working on it. Slowly reducing my on-screen appearances until soon, there’d be no more new movies.

I collapsed onto the enormous bed, sinking into the soft duvet, sighing as it enveloped me. Jet lag was making itself known, but if I slept now, I’d not sleep tonight. Best to keepmyself active. Maybe hit the gym, take a swim or just grab a bite to eat in the award-winning restaurant, so Holly had said.

They all sounded like good ideas. I’d just rest here for a moment and gather my strength.

The shrill sound of my phone woke me.

I shot off the bed, trying to recall where I’d put the damn thing.

“Hello,” I blurted. It was Dexter.

“You said you’d call when you arrived.” His Southern drawl was loud and clear. “I was waiting.”

I checked my watch.

“Shit and fuck.” I’d been sleeping for two hours.

“Fell asleep, did we? I thought you knew better, Simon.”

“I usually do. I must have been knackered.” I yawned, as if proving my point. “I had plans to visit the gym and pool, then get something to eat.”

“It’s still only four in the afternoon. You still have time.”

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