Maxwell Rowcroft was a man's man in every way. Built like Eros, and gifted with more charm than all the Muses combined. He was also a self-centered, narcissistic asshole. Working with him was an exercise in dancing on eggshells. The merger that brought Maxwell into my life held great promise for my career. But his machinations could end that promise. If I were to establish myself in the new organization, I must perfect the dance with Maxwell. Flattery fed the angel within him. Everything else fed the demon. I loathed Maxwell, and I wanted him. My lust was the only thing standing between my sanity and his psychopathy. As his behavior worsened, fantasy became harder to separate from reality...
