Made For Sex by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd Page A

dragon with his wings spread, his head thrown back as if roaring. He perched on a faceted crystal globe, his talons buried in the transparent ball.
    Ronnie watched Carla lift the four-inch-high dragon so that the light turned into rainbows within the crystal. “The dragon is for fantasy,” Ronnie said. “And for dreams that can be made to come true.”
    â€œYou know that I’ve decided to join you in your business, don’t you?”
    â€œI knew a month ago when I watched your eyes light up. Actually, I probably knew when we met again that first afternoon. After all, we were roommates for three years and I knew you very well then.” She poured wine into the two glasses and raised hers in toast. “To fantasy. And to making fantasies come true for everyone involved.”
    â€œTo fantasy,” Carla said, sipping the crisp white wine.
    Over lunch Carla told Ronnie about her week with her boys and her parents. “How are your folks?” Ronnie asked. “I’ve always loved your mother. And your dad’s a stitch.”
    â€œThey were always fond of you too. They asked to be remembered to you and want you to come up for dinner sometime.”
    â€œI’ll do that.”
    â€œAnd how was the cruise?”
    â€œI’d rather tell you about the entire week some other time,” she said. “It’s a little early in your education for that story.”
    â€œWas it that shocking?”
    â€œNot for me. Trust me for a few weeks,” Ronnie asked and Carla demurred.
    After lunch, Ronnie said “I think it’s time for you to have a look around upstairs.”
    Ronnie and Carla put the dishes in the dishwasher, then climbed the lushly carpeted stairs to the master bedroom. It was softer and more romantic than the downstairs, done in pastel pinks and warm, spring greens. The lounge chair was upholstered in a pink-and-green floral with green piping to match the bedspread and drapes. The oriental carpet contained the same shades of green, and together with half a dozen plants, gave the entire room a warm and comfortable aura. “I entertain in here when romance is at the heart of the encounter,” Ronnie said. “I also sleep here sometimes when I’m stuck in the city.”
    â€œThis is a wonderful room…soft and loving somehow.”
    â€œThat’s exactly the way I designed it. We’ll need to coordinate, but you’re free to use it whenever you want, for whatever you want. I have a cleaning woman who comes regularly so you don’t even have to tidy up.”
    â€œAre you sure about my using your place…this room?”
    â€œDespite the homey feeling, this is my working space, not where I live. Let me show you what I mean.” Ronnie opened the door to a huge walk-in closet. “On this side,” she said, waving one hand, “are everyday clothes, the usual suits, dresses, blouses, things like that. Shoes are underneath.” She looked Carla over. “I would guess we still wear the same size, so take your pick whenever you need something you don’t have. I try to keep the two parts of me completely separate so I don’t wear my personal clothes during business. You might feel differently.”
    Carla admired the collection of expensive clothes. She didn’t need to examine the labels to know that Ronnie only chose the best. “Isn’t this overkill? So many outfits.”
    With a smile, Ronnie said, “I love clothes and now I can indulge myself. Anyway, I do a lot of entertaining and traveling. It’s surprising how many men want a well-dressed, well-educated companion to decorate their arm at a luncheon or business dinner.”
    â€œYou mean like in Pretty Woman ?”
    â€œExactly. Sometimes without any sex at all.” She turned and indicated the other side of the closet. “This is the evening stuff.”
    Carla was stunned at the number of designer dresses: chiffon,