The Madam of Maple Court. Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

      KENSINGTON BOOKS

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      This book is dedicated to all the fabulous folks who’ve read and enjoyed my books over the years. Your kind letters, your visits to my Web site, and your consistent support have made all my work so worthwhile.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter

       1

      Thirty-four year old Pam DePalma strode through the ground floor of her beautifully decorated, almost palatial home on Maple Court and smiled. Good. The cleaning crew had been through and everything looked perfect. The silver gleamed, oak and cherrywood had been polished to a high shine, windows sparkled, carpets were free of any trace of tread marks, and furniture pillows had been plumped to the correct softness. Wonderful.

      The following morning the caterers would arrive and take over, prepare the hors d’oeuvres she’d selected, then carefully arrange them on silver and crystal trays and plates. She’d listened to the reports on the radio and knew that the mid-July weather would cooperate, as it always did for Chase’s parties. She wondered whether it would dare do otherwise, although, as always, she had a huge tent on standby just in case.

      At three that Saturday afternoon the uniformed staff would begin to circulate as she greeted guests and made sure everyone had been introduced to everyone else. She’d done this dozens, maybe hundreds of times before and was sure everything would progress like clockwork, with none of the guests aware of the amount of planning it took to bring off a party for a hundred people and make it look effortless. And as always, Linc would arrive early and tend bar in case of any trouble.

      She heard a car pull to a stop at the top of the long driveway and walked toward the front door. As she opened it, a strong masculine hand was reaching for the doorbell. Chase Hobart jumped slightly, then a wide grin spread over his strong features. “Pam. You always know everything, don’t you.” He hugged her and bussed her lightly on the forehead. “How are all the arrangements going?”

      “Come on in and have a look around. Everything’s great, and you’ll particularly love what I’ve done in the back. I took your suggestion and had the garden service put several more large potted ferns and jungly flowering plants around the spa. It really does give a lot more privacy and makes it look like some secluded forest glade.”

      “I thought it might,” he said. Chase exuded power and wealth. He was not very tall, with very short, prematurely gray hair, neatly trimmed chestnut brown beard and mustache, and surprisingly blue eyes. He was the major stockholder in the Wall Street firm started by his father and already thriving when he had taken over about ten years before. Now it was almost legend in the business, as was he, and he encouraged that image with wealthy and lavish entertaining.

      Together Pam and Chase walked through the house and out the sliding glass door, onto the large flagstone patio, and into the early evening. Since it was midsummer the sun was lowering toward the horizon, slowly painting the sky in ribbons of gold and pink. Pam smiled with pride. The backyard was as well manicured as the inside of her home. The grass was freshly cut with the light smell of clippings still filling the air. Summer flowers bloomed everywhere, her rose garden was in full bloom, and large oak and maple trees provided areas of deep shade that felt private. Tables had already been set up, some in bright sun, others in the semidarkness of fully shaded areas.

      Her gaze took in the entire lawn and pool area, then they strolled around as Chase, the perfectionist, carefully examined everything. Pam smiled to herself. He trusted her skills but never left anything to chance. “It looks fabulous,” he said finally, as she’d known he would. This was the third party she’d thrown for him and his various business associates, in addition to the occasional private entertaining she did for him. “Everyone should be tremendously impressed. I assume you have arranged for a few extra ‘ladies’?” Although he didn’t wink, there was mutual understanding in his voice. The “of the evening” following the word “ladies” was understood.

      “Marcy and I have five women selected and I know you’ll approve. Actually, two of them have been at your parties in the past,” she said.

      “I always admire your taste, love.”

      “Thank you, kind sir,” she said, inclining her head. “How are you doing?”

      “I’m doing great, especially now that I’m here. I need some of your tender loving care.”

      “You know that love has nothing to do with what we do.” She had known from the start that Chase was that consummate lady’s man who made every woman he met, no matter how casually, feel like his one and only.

      “Just a turn of phrase, darling. You know I love my wife. You’re just a sex object.”

      “And I don’t object,” she said, repeating a teasing phrase they used often. She was, in fact, with him for no reason other than sex and friendship and she liked it that way. Her life was complicated enough without another entanglement. Of course there was money involved, too. “Have you talked to your wife about your sex life?” she asked.

      “Stop hounding me, Pam,” he snapped. “Anna has nothing to do with this. She likes her upmarket life with sex only every now and then. She’s even suggested we redo her dressing room so we’d have separate bedrooms. She’s content with the way things are, and so am I.”

      “You keep telling me she’s content, but content isn’t happy. And from what you’ve told me, I’m not so sure she’s even content.” She thought back on her years with Vin. She had been just like Anna, content but never happy. At least Anna had her children.

      “She loves my money, and the kids, and that’s that. She doesn’t really care what I do as long as the bank account is sufficient for her and the children. Butt out!”

      “I’m sorry, Chase,” she said, lowering