"I won't. Promise," he vows.

"Okay. You're forgiven."

"Just like that?" he asks.

"Yep."

He grins. "Good. Thanks."

A moment of silence passes between us, then he slings his arm around my waist, stating, "Let me show you our room."

More butterflies fill my gut. How is it that a week ago I was starting a new job, and now I'm pretending to be my boss's fiancée?

My utterly arrogant, way-too-sexy, and probably overly experienced boss who would use me and leave me with a broken heart without having an ounce of guilt.

That's not fair.

It's true.

I push my fears to the back of my mind and step into the bedroom suite. Our suitcases are already there. I point at the dresser. "Am I allowed to use that?"

"Use as many drawers and as much closet space as you want. There's plenty of room," he announces.

It shouldn't surprise me. The dresser and the closet are huge. Still, I glance at them in awe. I start to unpack and offer, "Thanks."

When I get to my underwear, Sebastian teases, "Ah, you did bring the granny panties?"

I spin on him, snapping, "Can you leave me alone? And stop judging me for everything. I'm just tired of it."

He puts his hands in the air and sighs. "Georgia, I thought we made peace? I'm sorry I was a dickhead."

Okay, so maybe I need to work on the forgiveness part.

"You weren't just a dickhead. You were offensive, rude, and disrespectful!" I scold.

He nods. "I know. I'm sorry. What do I have to do to make this right?"

"How about you stop being mean to me?"

"Okay. I will."

"Why were you so nasty to me anyway?" I ask, putting my hand on my hip.

He opens his mouth, then snaps it shut.

His silence makes me angrier. I snap, "I'm waiting for an answer. I at least deserve that, don't you think? And be honest, Sebastian. Don't feed me your lies."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Do you really think that badly about me?"

Guilt fills me. But I'm not ready to back down. I feed him some of his own silence.

"Guess I have a lot to work on," he mutters.

"I'm still waiting for an honest answer," I declare.

He grinds his molars, glances at the ceiling, then refocuses on me. He admits, "I hate everyone talking about me behind my back, especially, about my past failed relationships. It makes me angry. A part of me is still upset that I fell for all their deceit. And I should have known they were all users, but I didn't. So, I'm sorry I get a little unhinged when anyone talks about it behind my back."