The words began to echo in her head now, the sounds so loud and real that Jenny worried that she was truly going insane, seriously losing her mind, completely falling apart.
Queen to his Sheikh. Queen . . . queen . . . queen . . .
And as she paced in her delirium, stumbled in her hysteria, blinked through her confusion, she got that strange, eerie, otherworldly feeling she had first gotten when she stood there on that deck, stood before the entire Royal Family of Bukhaara, stood there with her back straight, her shoulders back, her chin pointed up. Yes, she had stood there proud, stood there strong, stood there in spite of her fear, in defiance of her self-consciousness . . . stood there and showed them that she was indeed one of them, that though on the surface she was plain old Jenny Jones from Illinois, the blood that flowed through her veins was as regal as anyone else’s on that boat.
Yes, she thought as the images and emotions bubbled up from depths that felt profoundly strong, unfathomably ancient, indescribably real . . . oh, God, yes.
I am that queen, aren’t I? I am that queen.
“I am that queen,” came the whisper, curling its way from those depths of her soul like how an ancient river winds its way to the ocean. Her voice sounded thick, full, strong in a way that startled her. And now Jenny felt her body straighten up, her shoulders pull themselves back as if supported by the grace of the gods, her chin point to the heavens as she felt a smile break through the distress, calm break through the storm, strength smash through that moment of powerlessness.
“I am that queen,” she said to the circular room, the tables and chairs bearing silent witness as the fingers of the universe placed an invisible crown atop the round head of Jenny Jones. “And I am HIS queen. HIS queen. HIS queen!”
“I am, I am, I am!” she sobbed as she stood there proudly, her smile so wide now that it damn well hurt! “I am, I am, I AM!”
And as Queen Jenny stood there in the center of her court, the front door burst open in what felt like an explosion of stardust, and Sheikh Kabeer Bukhaara roared his way into the room, his face peaked with emotion, his eyes like emeralds ablaze, everything about him asking her the question that she was already answering:
Will you? Are you? Do you?
I will. I am. I do.
I do.
24
And they made love, right then and there, like man and woman, like animals and gods, like husband and wife, like king and queen. And as their shared climax ROARED in like that ancient river breaking on the shores of forever, shaking the very foundations of the mighty Burj Khalifa that towered about them in the desert sun, Eternity herself smiled down upon the lovers and recorded the moment for all time.
And in that everlasting moment, beneath her fluttering eyelids Jenny saw the future, saw her future, their future, the universe’s future . . .
She saw Kabeer being crowned Sheikh, Queen Jenny by his side, her curves accentuated by the world’s most beautiful baby bump, a ring the size of Jupiter on her finger . . . and she saw herself launching her restaurants, on her own, as head chef, letting the food speak for itself like she had always wanted, and the reviews were rolling in, praise and adulation, success and expansion . . . Dubai . . . Sydney . . . Moscow . . . Vienna . . . Tokyo . . . Paris . . . New York . . . London . . . Chicago . . . and everything fused together and spun apart as Jenny HOWLED in the Sheikh’s arms . . . and now she saw their child running through the streets of old Bukhaara as she and Kabeer followed, Queen Jenny pregnant once more, all of them laughing, the domes and minarets laughing with them under the desert sun, the golden sand dunes sparkling like hillocks made of stardust, and for a moment everything seemed insane, overwhelming, impossible as Jenny WAILED through that endless orgasm as the Sheikh drove deep within her, and she wondered how she could do all of it, how she could be all of it, how she could live all of it . . .
And through all of the ecstasy and chaos, the madness and passion, the dreams and desires . . . yes, at the end of it all, just like at the beginning of it all, Jenny Jones heard that whisper come through so soft yet so clear . . .
Jump in, little Jenny.
Jump in.
∞
BOOKS BY ANNABELLE WINTERS
Hey! I hope you enjoyed this book! This is the second novel in my CURVES FOR SHEIKHS series of Sheikh Romances featuring curvy ladies and sexy Sheikhs! Curves for the Sheikh is already out, and Hostage for the Sheikh comes out November 5th and can be pre-ordered right now! OMG!
Buy CURVES FOR THE SHEIKH!
Pre-Order HOSTAGE FOR THE SHEIKH
Happy reading!
love, Anna.
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Flames for the Sheikh: A Royal Billionaire Romance Novel (Curves for Sheikhs Series Book 2) Page 16