Chapter One

On The Night Of The Full Moon . . .

The Executive Retreat was at the Hawks Nest Lodge for the third year in a row. On Lake Tahoe’s north shore in January, drifts of bright white snow piled high around the rustic facade of the stately mountain dwelling.

“I don’t normally like people taking my freedom from me like this,” Reggie said wearily to his next in command, Dwight Carroll.

“But it’s a good management choice, Reg,” Dwight replied. “You need to let your guard down every once and a while.”

Reggie chuckled, knowing Dwight was always thinking company first. It was why he relied on him so much. “It’s a curious mix this year,” Reggie said.

“We’ve made a lot of changes in your executive staff,” Dwight acknowledged.

“I don’t know half the people here,” Reggie remarked looking down from the second story balcony to the enormous living room, with the grand stone fireplace that covered an entire wall with mountain rock, built sometime in the 1930’s.

It was lunch, the mood was light, and if the blizzard predicted for later in the day didn’t materialize, many of his employees were planning to ski. So far the social aspects of the retreat were a success, while the working part had been less than Reggie had hoped for.

“You need to get more involved with them,” Dwight suggested, nodding to the faithful masses below.

“I haven’t before.”

“But at least you knew their names.”

“Ah yes, put on the charm and polish and go meet my people. Isn’t that what I have you for?”

Reggie could be charming. Dwight and everyone else knew that. His classic blond hair combed neatly back with just the perfect wave in the front, the aristocratic high cheek bones, definitive nose, sharp jaw line, and the tight five foot eleven build, he intimidated most men, while he created the most profound sexual response in most women.

He was cool, so cool that he could sweep a room with an arctic chill in seconds. And he was wickedly hot, the fiery heat of his flaring rhetoric went to the heart of matters he cared about, whether it was business or his personal passions. He ruled his company by intimidation, but of a very devious sort; few realized what manipulative power he had over them because they were so taken with the exterior package that altered with such practiced skill, he took speech away, and with it the power to challenge him.

Under the surface, he was hardly as daunting, but few people got so far under his skin to realize that.

“You’re sounding exceedingly cynical,” Dwight observed. He’d learned to listen to what his boss didn’t say as much as what he did.

“Am I?” Reggie hadn’t thought about it that way.

“Your love life sour?” Dwight asked.<