Page 43 of Judging Duke

I couldn’t wait to stretch my legs.

Once landed, I grabbed my carry-on from the overhead locker and fought my way through the crowds to the exit.

True to their word, the studio had sent a car to collect me, and the quick journey took me along the coastal road to Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, an idyllic setting close to Monaco. The scenery and weather were stunningly beautiful.

Dex had promised me it’d be a few hours of work each day, if that, and I’d brought my camera along, hoping to explore the incredible scenery.

I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply as the warm air flooded the car. As much as I loved England and LA, here would be where I placed my roots.

I’d visited several times, and the climate, the people…the mood of this place made it feel like home.

“Monsieur Fletcher, we are here.” The French accent was certainly sexy, even if the man driving the car wasn’t.

I got out of the car, gazing at my surroundings, my eyes drawn to the vibrant colours around me: the blue of the sea, the cloudless skies, the shocking pink of the bougainvillea against the stark white of the house it clung to. I was itching to take pictures, to add to my growing portfolio.

“You must be Simon. How wonderful to meet you.” A white-haired lady stepped out of the considerable house to greet me, her long, flowing cotton dress as bright as the flowers that dotted the impressive garden. It was difficult to pinpoint her age, but she was getting on in years, I’d wager.

“And you must be Barbara.” She swept me into a tight hug, surprising considering her slim stature.

“Cyril and I were so pleased when you said yes to our proposition. We have loved watching your career grow…amongst other things.” She released me. I didn’t miss the twinkle in her eye as she smiled.

“I see you have a naughty side, Barbara.”

But I guess you needed to when you worked in the porn industry.

“Oh, if only you knew.” She took my arm and led me into the house. It was gorgeous.

Black-and-white tiled floors, light wooden panelling on the walls and vase upon vase of flowers. I admired the antique furniture and the sweeping staircase in the middle of the expansive hallway, barely listening to Barbara chatter as she led me through the house and onto the bright sunlit terrace overlooking the sea.

“…and if you go down those stairs at the edge of the terrace, it’ll take you down to the secluded, private beach. Feel free toshed every stitch of clothing. No one is a stranger when you are here.”

The paved area was spacious. People sat at the tables talking, eating, drinking, but most of all, laughing. Despite my usual outgoing nature, shyness overcame me, something I’d not felt in a long time.

I took a deep breath and tried to relax, not realising how tense I’d become, not just today but in the previous months.

“I’ll introduce you to everyone in time, but let’s get you a drink first. Travelling is so tiresome, don’t you think?” She handed me a glass of something pink, chinking our glasses. “Bottoms up!”

She drank deeply, a flush creeping to her cheeks.

I followed suit and almost choked at the amount of alcohol that laced it. Since that night when I’d met up with Duke, I’d steered clear, unwilling to experience the hangover. As usual, I’d vowed never to drink again, and until today, not a drop had touched my lips.

“Packs a punch, wouldn’t you say?” A clipped British accent sounded to my left, and I turned to see a man, similar in age to Barbara, approach. He slipped his arm around her tiny waist. Ah, this must be her husband, Cyril. I believed him to be in his eighties, but he didn’t look a day over sixty-five. I could only hope I looked as good at his age, assuming I reached it.

I blew out a breath. “It certainly does. What on earth is in it?” It was strong but sweet, very palatable but dangerous. Any more than two would knock even a seasoned drinker on their arse.

“We find it best not to ask,” Barbara said and glanced over at an attractive Asian man standing behind a wooden bar tucked in the corner. “He makes THE best cocktails, and he’s not too bad on the eye either.”

She raised her glass to him, and he smiled back at her, showing an impressive set of white teeth.

“He’s also not bad in front of the camera, if you get my meaning,” Cyril added, and I wondered if everyone here tonight was involved in their films. “I’m more than sure he’d be happy to accompany you one evening, if you so choose to.”

I tried not to choke on my drink. What the hell kind of house was this? Had I stumbled into a den of debauchery and iniquity?

“Tut, tut, Simon. Don’t be such a prude.” Barbara laughed and took my arm again. “Let me introduce you.”

Two good-looking, dark-haired men sat on a love seat, arms draped around each other’s shoulders, several empty glasses on the table beside them. They smiled broadly as we approached.

“This is Troy and his husband, Finn. They’re the stars of the movie you’ll be starring in. We originally wanted you to just be an innocent bystander, but I wonder if we couldn’t utilise your talents more. What do you think?”

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