THE CRADLE OF CIVILIZATION had nothing on the cradle Jessie lay in -- the cradle of Cybelle, wet and warm from their lovemaking. She purred and pulled him close, smiling into his bare chest, causing him to wonder again at the miracle of this woman who had become his. From the first instant he saw her he wanted her, and not just in the physical sense. He wanted her to inspire, encourage, stimulate and assist him in all ways and in all things, as he wanted to do and be for her.

He could not believe how perfect she was. Had he spent a year of his life trying to figure out exactly what he wished for in a mate, he would not have come close to the perfection he found in Cybelle. She breathed when he breathed, not to accommodate him, but because she was his counterpart.

"How can anything so carnal be so divine?" she whispered.

"Want to do it again?"

"Mmmm."

When she later opened the drapes to let daylight flood the room, Jessie’s eyes lingered on her naked body. Her copper colored hair fell to the back of her knees and she often draped it around her like a cape. Dressed thus now she paraded herself before him, enjoying his open admiration. "Shouldn’t you be doing something for the Fest?" she asked. "Making a speech or something?"

"Not now," he said softly. "Later today Brad and Sylvia are going to celebrate their Union, and tomorrow I’ll tell the Board about the open channel and read them the message from El Rey, but at the moment there is nothing more important than what I’m doing. Being with you." He propped himself up on an elbow. "Do you know El Rey?"

"Oh, heavens, no," she said. He’s a big fish. Way out of my league."

"What I want to know is how come a beautiful thing like you is messing with a small fish like me."

"Because you’re a perfect little fish. Just my type."

"Really, Cybelle. There must be thousands of wonderful personalities out there in the universe. You could have any one of them."

"But I don’t want any one of them. I want you!" Her tresses covered him like a blanket. "There may be stronger arms, or clearer eyes, or sharper wit, but you are just my style. You’re perfect, just the way you are."

"You’re incredible."

"The Day of the Child," she observed. "No meetings to go to, no schedule to keep. Would you like to brush my hair, Jessie Brothers?"

"Yes." He brushed her hair, all of it, as they dreamed their dreams with the morning sun splayed upon their nakedness.