“You think they really learned it?” she asked.
“We taught that too. Fake it until you make it. That lesson was easier for them.” Marco chuckled. “That and staying out of strip clubs and being too forward with the ladies.”
“They love to surf.”
“I think that kept them here when nothing else could. Yup, they manned up real good. I’m proud of them.”
The wedding had been planned for January, only two months away. All the invitations were mailed out, and all the details of the wedding were worked out by the Sultan’s wives. Shannon knew there would be some surprises and new adventures waiting for them when they arrived at the Pink Palace.
“I can’t wait for the wedding. Are you nervous?” she asked him.
“It’s a big step, isn’t it? But no, this is how to do it right. Make a big festival out of it. Celebrate with all those you love. I think I learned that from the Sultan himself.”
As a gesture of good will, Shannon had even consulted with Rebecca on some of the lobby decorations, but Rebecca was not given a credit card nor a checkbook or authorization to spend. Shannon enjoyed working with her. Knowing Marco like she did, she knew it would be impossible for Rebecca not to still be in love with him, and she made her peace with it. Rebecca’s ticket of admission was that she behaved, never got in the way, and never exerted her will over any member of the team. And Marco insisted that she not be paid for any of her work, either. The truce had held.
“I’m ready to turn in, how about you?”
She nodded.
They left the candles to blow out on their own and walked to the back of the platform where a large pillow bed had been placed this afternoon. Inside the bed was a layer of lavender infused in the foam.
Shannon searched for evidence of their guards as Marco began removing her dress over the top of her head.
“I told them not to look.”
“But I’m—” and as he pulled the dress away, she finished—“naked!”
He wrapped his arms around her and helped her into the soft sheets and lavender scent. “Only to my eyes. You are soft and naked,” he said as he stroked her, “a pleasure to touch, to kiss, and a pleasure to love.” His fingers laced through her hair as he kissed her neck and down between her breasts.
It was a warm night. Shannon watched the stars above him as he slowly worked his magic, brought her bliss forward and set them both on fire.
His hands, his mouth and tongue showed her the need she filled for him. He demanded all of her. She needed him deep, setting her ablaze and then letting her float through the clouds with her fingers and legs entangled in his, holding on to forever with all the intensity of a forever dream.
They were and always would be made for each other.
Chapter 18
The Sultan of Bonin had done everything he could do to avoid coming for the promised visit to Florida. Marco wasn’t going to let him forget that promise, and knew that once made, it was a life-or-death thing for the Sultan.
He’d been instructed not to bring his wives, or perhaps only one or two, but as he and Shannon waited for them to deplane, he could see the Sultan had violated his first rule in the style to which he was accustomed. He brought six wives, each with their own servants, and servants for the servants to carry all the clothing and equipment they required.
The Sultan stood in the doorway of the private jet entrance and held his hands out to the side with a frown. He was asking for forgiveness already. Marco thought to himself he should have known better, but this meant another eight-bedroom house would have to be procured just to house everyone.
Marco approached him and hesitated to give him a hug in public. But the Sultan initiated it, grabbing him by the upper arms and examining him from head to toe.
“You are strong and well, Marco. I can’t believe it. You are bigger and stronger than before.”
“Good to see you, sir. I can see you followed my instructions,” he replied, noticing the bevy of women who were congregated in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter the lobby area.
“You know women, Marco. I tried to choose the oldest wives first, and the younger ones objected. I tried to figure a lottery system where it was random, and they refused. Luckily, several didn’t want to come and told me they would never in their lives wear a bathing suit and expose themselves to strangers. But that didn’t solve the whole problem.”
Marco knew he didn’t try very hard to cull the entourage.
“I expected this to happen. I just didn’t think there would be so many. We’ll make it work somehow.”
“They don’t all need separate bedrooms, you know. They are used to sleeping all together, the servants too.”
“I understand. Do you want to ask them to enter? It’s hot in the breezeway.”
Marco presented Shannon, who was greeted by the Sultan warmly, as well as the wives.
As they walked through the small concourse, private jet passengers stared as the crowd passed by as if they were watching the U.S. President and his staff arriving.
Marco’s earpiece squawked. “You think six more Suburbans will do?” Kevin asked.
“Hopefully. How fast can you get them?” he asked.
“We had them on standby, so they’re here.”
“Thanks. That earns you a bonus, Kevin.”
The Sultan looked puzzled.
“I have an earpiece so I can talk to my team. This is a large group. I wanted to be sure we had enough transportation.”
“They can wait. That is no problem.”
“I’ve arranged it. It’s all done.”
“Excellent.”
Marco and Shannon rode in the car with the Sultan, who elected not to have part of his group with him. Marco knew it was because he needed to discuss something that he didn’t want known. Marco braced for another surprise.
“My health is not very good right now. I had a physician who specializes in cancer research come in and take a battery of tests and evaluate me. There is some alternative treatment available, but he fears I’m too far past that point.”
“You have lung cancer?”
“Confirmed.”
“Then have surgery.”
“I don’t want surgery. I don’t like the recovery time.”
“But, if you don’t, they’ll just watch you fade away. It could be a long process and more painful than the surgery. I wish you’d reconsider.”
“I think I’ve made my decision to do nothing. I want to see them go to Africa, come back successful businessmen before I go. Perhaps see them marry too?”
“But why cut your life short?” Marco was stunned at his decision.
The sultan watched the Florida landscape through the window as they zoomed past beaches, palm trees, and stopped for beachgoers in wagons with little children in tow.
“So, this is Florida. Much different than I thought. I was expecting Miami Vice. Corvettes and bright pink and turquoise buildings and lots of neon lights.”
“No, that’s a bit south, and we can visit there, but not with a group this size and not with you wearing your fine clothes,” Marco pointed to his gold pajamas studded on the chest with jewels which he wore like medals.
“The world is changing, Marco. There are fewer and fewer kingdoms like Bonin every year. Some of them perish because of bad decisions in business, or changes in global politics, shipping rules, changeup in governments. Friends die, policies change. And all the while, there are bad women out there who sometimes cause kingdoms to fall as well.”