loved her the infatuation left me. If not the first time, then after a few weeks.”
He pressed his body against hers and she could feel him stiff against her as his hands worked their way down, stroking trails of fire along her inner thigh. “But with you, my love and desire grow stronger every day. I take all I can from you and still, it’s never enough.”
He turned her body to face him. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek and his throbbing flesh so achingly close to entering her again.
“I want more than your body.” His deep low voice was ragged with passion as he pulled her even closer into his embrace. “It’s your soul I think I crave, that I must join with or be forever alone. I never knew that until I met you, that the empty craving, that nagging hole inside could only be filled by you.”
Cleopatra looked up into his eyes. “And Egypt?” she whispered. “Have you grown to love Egypt too?”
Antony pressed his lips fervently against hers for a long blissful moment then murmured against her cheek. “You are Egypt.” He ran his callused thumb along the inside of her wrists. “The Nile your blood.” He traced the outline of her cheeks. “The ancient marble monuments your bones.” He cradled her face in his hands gazing reverently into her eyes. “The incense that fills its temples your divine spirit.”
He pressed a kiss to her brow and her heart glowed with joy.
If only this happiness might stretch on and on. Only the two of them together in this one blissful moment forever .
They came together again, drugged with passion, until they lay peacefully spent in each other’s arms and drifted to sleep with the sound of the ocean pounding its eternal rhythms outside the palace walls.
***
Time seemed to fall away as Antony and Cleopatra made their way into upper Egypt, drifting on the muddy green waters of the Nile aboard a floating palace of intricately carved cedar.
Antony watched with interest as they passed through the rich Nile valley, taking in its expansive blue skies and earth so fertile it produced three harvests in one year’s time. League upon league of wheat, barley and corn fields drifted by and the golden brown workers swathed in bright white linen put down their baskets to wave cheerfully, as Cleopatra’s palace floated past, calling out, “Isis! Isis!”
On the third day of their trip, as the sun sparkled across the Nile and warmed the decks of the barge, Antony and Cleopatra sat at a game of Jackals and Hounds. Their eyes fastened to the marble board, the celebrated general working out his strategy against the Egyptian Queen.
Antony advanced his hounds then gazed out at the sea of wheat baking in the hot sun. “I won’t lie, I’d like to have a grain supply like this to feed my legions.”
Cleopatra moved her jackal skillfully out of danger of Antony’s encroaching hounds. “Rome chooses to make war. Egypt makes food,” she observed, admiring her land from beneath the shade of a silken canopy. “But, of course, when there is enough food for everyone, there’s no need for war, is there?”
She watched him carefully through veiled lashes.
Antony shook his head, decisively moving his hounds several squares forward roping in her jackals. “Men will always go to war, my love.”
“Roman men will...” ignoring her cornered jackals, Cleopatra studied him across the board, taking his measure. “But what if Rome were to become…not quite so Roman?”
“More Egyptian, you mean?” Antony said with a smirk.
“My ancestor, Alexander, the greatest general the world has ever known, understood that to create peace, one must simply encourage the sharing of cultures and ideas. Promote the marriage of one people with another and their children become neither Roman nor Egyptian, but something new and beautiful, children who have no enemies to fight.”
Antony pointed to the board. “Your jackals are in peril, my lady.”
Quelling her impatience, she moved
He pressed his body against hers and she could feel him stiff against her as his hands worked their way down, stroking trails of fire along her inner thigh. “But with you, my love and desire grow stronger every day. I take all I can from you and still, it’s never enough.”
He turned her body to face him. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek and his throbbing flesh so achingly close to entering her again.
“I want more than your body.” His deep low voice was ragged with passion as he pulled her even closer into his embrace. “It’s your soul I think I crave, that I must join with or be forever alone. I never knew that until I met you, that the empty craving, that nagging hole inside could only be filled by you.”
Cleopatra looked up into his eyes. “And Egypt?” she whispered. “Have you grown to love Egypt too?”
Antony pressed his lips fervently against hers for a long blissful moment then murmured against her cheek. “You are Egypt.” He ran his callused thumb along the inside of her wrists. “The Nile your blood.” He traced the outline of her cheeks. “The ancient marble monuments your bones.” He cradled her face in his hands gazing reverently into her eyes. “The incense that fills its temples your divine spirit.”
He pressed a kiss to her brow and her heart glowed with joy.
If only this happiness might stretch on and on. Only the two of them together in this one blissful moment forever .
They came together again, drugged with passion, until they lay peacefully spent in each other’s arms and drifted to sleep with the sound of the ocean pounding its eternal rhythms outside the palace walls.
***
Time seemed to fall away as Antony and Cleopatra made their way into upper Egypt, drifting on the muddy green waters of the Nile aboard a floating palace of intricately carved cedar.
Antony watched with interest as they passed through the rich Nile valley, taking in its expansive blue skies and earth so fertile it produced three harvests in one year’s time. League upon league of wheat, barley and corn fields drifted by and the golden brown workers swathed in bright white linen put down their baskets to wave cheerfully, as Cleopatra’s palace floated past, calling out, “Isis! Isis!”
On the third day of their trip, as the sun sparkled across the Nile and warmed the decks of the barge, Antony and Cleopatra sat at a game of Jackals and Hounds. Their eyes fastened to the marble board, the celebrated general working out his strategy against the Egyptian Queen.
Antony advanced his hounds then gazed out at the sea of wheat baking in the hot sun. “I won’t lie, I’d like to have a grain supply like this to feed my legions.”
Cleopatra moved her jackal skillfully out of danger of Antony’s encroaching hounds. “Rome chooses to make war. Egypt makes food,” she observed, admiring her land from beneath the shade of a silken canopy. “But, of course, when there is enough food for everyone, there’s no need for war, is there?”
She watched him carefully through veiled lashes.
Antony shook his head, decisively moving his hounds several squares forward roping in her jackals. “Men will always go to war, my love.”
“Roman men will...” ignoring her cornered jackals, Cleopatra studied him across the board, taking his measure. “But what if Rome were to become…not quite so Roman?”
“More Egyptian, you mean?” Antony said with a smirk.
“My ancestor, Alexander, the greatest general the world has ever known, understood that to create peace, one must simply encourage the sharing of cultures and ideas. Promote the marriage of one people with another and their children become neither Roman nor Egyptian, but something new and beautiful, children who have no enemies to fight.”
Antony pointed to the board. “Your jackals are in peril, my lady.”
Quelling her impatience, she moved
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