Page 12 of Judging Duke

I loved swimming and did it every chance I got. It helped keep my muscles strong without looking like I worked out seven days a week.

I ducked down under the water before commencing my routine.

Fifty lengths was my usual, but this pool was shorter than the one in my home back in LA. No matter, as long as I got my fifty in, I’d be good.

I felt the tiredness melt away as I completed each length. I was ready for anything, and right now, that was a meal and a glass of wine.

Retreating to the changing room, I slipped out of my shorts and wrapped the large towel around my waist. I was about to put on the robe when a sound off to my left caught my attention.

“We shouldn’t be back here,” a male voice said.

“There’s no one about,” another answered. “There’s just that one guy in the pool. We’ll be safe. I promise.”

I crept silently towards the voices, careful not to make a sound and peered around the partition to see two men, lips locked, their arms wrapped tightly around each other.

From their attire, it was obvious they were staff members.

I should go. This was a private moment, and when one of the guys began to undo his belt, I knew it was time for me to leave.

I could report them. It wasn’t exactly a private area, and it gave me an idea for a scene in my next movie.

Would I be receiving or giving? I didn’t mind either way. I lingered a moment longer as I heard a muted groan, followed by the loud growl of my stomach.

Ah, fuck.

“Did you hear that?” one of them said, but I wasn’t waiting around to find out.

With flip-flops in hand, I hastily left the changing room before anyone found me, smiling to myself.

At least someone would be getting some tonight.

What kind of place had Dexter booked me into?

A porn star’s paradise, that’s what.

Perhaps this week wouldn’t be so bad after all.

CHAPTER THREE

DUKE

Why was he here booking in as a guest? How in God’s name could he afford it?

I’d completely lost touch with the family after I’d moved away and received the briefest of updates on Robbie from my sister, Isla.

My parents, well, Mum really, had never forgiven me for running away, and I couldn’t blame them. I still saw them on occasion, but I rarely went home. I knew I should have stuck around and faced the consequences, but I was young and terrified of Simon and the police.

As it was, Robbie’s accident had been classed as that, a stupid schoolboy prank gone wrong.

The problem was, I’d had so much to contend with after I left, I’d selfishly not given a thought to how others—my family—were fairing. In my mind, I didn’t deserve forgiveness, not for Robbie nor for causing everyone grief.

Isla had said Mum and Dad couldn’t understand why I hadn’t returned home after I left Aunt Debbie’s, and I’d not told her why. It was still too painful to think about now. I’m sure they would have helped me, but at the time, the idea of going home to face the music had sent me spiralling into full-blown panic.

So, I’d stayed away, and the longer I left it, the harder it was to return, certainly in the short term. As the years had passed, I’d reached out to them, and while they’d asked why I hadn’t gone home, I refused to talk about my life after I left.

I decided I should call Isla to see if she knew anything.

As it was, I didn’t need to. Gossip was running rampant in the staff room the following morning.

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