didn’t wake you when I left,” he said. “I’m an early riser—always have been. It’s my time to be alone, to get my head straight with the universe.”
“No, I must have been sound asleep. I never even heard anyone come in with my suitcase.”
“That was brought to your room last night while we were at the ceremony. You probably didn’t notice it when we came back because you had other things on your mind,” he teased.
Claire found herself blushing like a schoolgirl. “Yes, I guess I did.”
“Are you in the mood to go on a hike today? There’s a special place I’d like to show you.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Get some breakfast. You’ll need extra energy to hike up here in the mountains. I recommend the biscuits and gravy. I was born a Yankee, but it’s become one of my favorite Southern dishes.”
Claire headed back to the buffet, filling a plate with scrambled eggs and fresh fruit. At the last minute, she added a fluffy biscuit topped with a spoonful of thick, white peppery gravy, studded with bits of sausage. On the way back to their table, she caught the eye of Marge. This morning the woman was sporting yet another costume, this time that of a harem girl. Marge’s face was draped with an opaque scarf that hung down from a headband fitted to a long black wig. Only her big brown eyes were visible, heavily outlined with kohl. Ample breast spilled out of a purple bejeweled bra top trimmed in silver fringe. Sheer flowing pants gathered at the ankles completed her attire. Although it was a bizarre outfit for a casual morning meal, she wore it proudly, showing off a surprisingly trim bare midriff decorated with a huge purple jewel in her navel. Her companions this morning were Mistress Jade’s black attendants, Theo and Aaron. They too were outfitted as though they had just stepped out of a tale from the Arabian Nights—bare chests gleaming under short, sleeveless purple vests, colorful sashes holding up loose white trousers that reached just below their knees.
“Good morning, Miss Claire! You look radiant today.” Marge waved gaily, as though she’d never bent Claire over a table just a few hours ago and soundly paddled her bare ass. “Had a good night, did you?” she asked, lowering her voice and giving Claire a wink.
“Yes, thanks. You look like you’re ready to enjoy your last day here.”
Marge nodded. “We’re fixin’ to have us a play date. I always wanted to be a belly dancer. I have a private lesson later with Mistress Jade and the boys here—in the Sultan’s quarters,” she added.
Sultan’s quarters? Claire waved and headed back to her table. Apparently there were whole areas of this resort that she’d never even seen, entire menus of activities from which to choose. The women she’d spoken with before signing up told her this was an X-rated Disneyworld, recommending that she sample all the rides. Claire shook her head. One intensely real fantasy was all she could handle for now.
“I’m beginning to understand why people would come back here again,” she commented when she sat down.
Kyle smiled. “Marge is rather unusual. Most of our guests don’t participate in such a wide variety of experiences on their first trip here. But Marge’s circumstances are a little different from most of our patrons. If you spent any time with her, she’d tell you that she’s here to fulfill the dying wishes of her beloved husband.”
Claire glanced back at Marge. She certainly didn’t look the part of a grieving widow. Kyle saw her look of disbelief and shook his head. “I know. It may be hard for anyone else to understand. Marge married very young, to a wealthy older man. At first, he assumed she’d married him for his money, and he was willing to accept that just to have her in his life. They traveled, saw the world. But then he fell ill, and Marge spent the last eight years caring for him, rarely leaving his bedside. She genuinely loved Clyde, and he came to believe
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