I return to my desk and get lost in the pile of folders. Sebastian steps out of his office and states, "Follow me."

I glance up. "Where are we going?"

He huffs. "To the meeting with Gulf Oil."

"Oh. You want me in the meeting?" I ask, surprised.

His eyes turn to slits. "Are you not Victoria's intern?"

"Yes, of course."

"Tell me, Ms. Peach. Why did you choose to apply at Cartwright Enterprises?" he interrogates.

The hairs on my neck rise. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

His arrogance grows. "Let me guess. You heard how we have more young professionals in the C-suite than any other company in Dallas, and you want to climb up the career ladder as fast as you can?"

No, I wanted to earn money for my cupcake bakery.

"I-I..." I swallow the lump in my throat, suddenly needing a glass of water to quench my dry mouth.

"I didn't promote more young professionals than any other corporation by letting them sit at their desks. Hands-on experience—that's what Cartwright Enterprises is about and why people excel here. You have an MBA, but that isn't going to get you where you want to be without learning," he lectures.

He knows I have my MBA?

He undresses me with his eyes again and lowers his voice, adding, "Isn't that what you want? Hands-on experience?"

Every inch of my skin flushes. My gape only grows.

A level of arrogance so powerful it radiates around him appears. He keeps me in his heated stare another moment, then orders, "Let's go." He motions for me to go ahead of him.

I rise and stroll down the hall, knowing he's checking out my booty the entire time. No matter how much I tell myself not to strut, I can't help it. I sway my hips to torment him, not for more attention, I tell myself.

I'm lying once again.

I glance behind me and catch his gaze right where I felt it. I stop walking, shift on my feet, and arch my eyebrows.

His eyes dart to mine. "Is there a problem, Ms. Peach?" he challenges.

"You can call me Georgia," I blurt out, tired of hearing him say my last name like it's a joke.

He takes my words the wrong way, and I curse myself. His smug expression tells me he's clueless about why I don't want him to call me Ms. Peach.

There's no doubt. Sebastian Cartwright, my new boss, thinks I'm into his attention on my backside and any other part of my body.

I am.

No, I'm not.

Liar!

He steps closer, eliminating the gap between us. His intoxicating scent annihilates me for the second time this morning. His lips twitch as he says, "Well, then, Georgia, is there a reason you're making our clients wait?"

My words jumble in my head. I stutter, "N-no." I spin and walk into the conference room.