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“Um…” I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. “Well, I guess it would depend on what you were trying to sell me.”

“Ah, but maybe the bigger question would be—are you looking to buy?” he asked suggestively.

Heat flooded my face for what seemed like the five hundredth time in the past three days. I hated that I blushed so easily, and I automatically brought my hands to my face to hide my cheeks. A strange and unfamiliar ache began between my legs, only adding to my mortification.

“High elevation getting to you again?”

“Something like that,” I mumbled, and I swear my face turned ten shades redder.

Turned on by interview questions. Great. I’m out of my tree.

“Tell me about your experience,” he said suddenly, changing directions.

“My experience with what exactly, Mr. Stone?”

His cryptic line of questioning was confusing. I couldn’t keep up. Perhaps I really was going crazy. Either that or his mere presence was turning my brain to marshmallow. I couldn’t be sure.

“Your experience in marketing and advertising, of course.”

He watched me, eyes full of wicked humor, waiting for my response.

This has to be the strangest interview ever. He read my résumé. He knows the answer. Why would he ask me that?

“Everything is on my résumé, Mr. Stone. There’s not much more I can elaborate on,” I responded.

It was probably the worst answer I’d ever given in an interview, but I had a nagging suspicion he didn’t give a rat’s ass about my experience in marketing. The twisting in my belly intensified, the conversation making me uneasy. It was full of double meanings and suggestive implications.

“I see.” He seemed frustrated.

The intercom buzzed, making me jump, and Laura’s voice came through the speakerphone on the table.

“I apologize for the interruption, Mr. Stone, but your ten o’clock appointment is here.”

Ten o’clock appointment? Have I really been here for an hour?

“Thank you, Laura. I will be finished momentarily,” Alexander, sounding mildly annoyed.

My interview, if you could call it that, had clearly come to an end. I stood up and straightened my skirt. Alexander Stone stood as well, his intense gaze never wavering as he watched my every move. I felt naked, despite my blouse and skirt, and my skin grew hot under his scrutiny. I tried to figure out what he was thinking, but his facial expression was unreadable, cool almost. Yet, I was able to detect a sense of uncertainty in his eyes. His stare made me self-conscious, and I immediately moved to smooth out my hair.

“Your hair is fine, Krystina.”

Holy crap—he called me Krystina.

I wondered what made him drop the formalities.

“Uh, thanks,” was the only response I could muster.

“It’s a bit restricted for my taste, but fine all the same.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

I was still trying to fathom what he meant by that when he reached over to a desktop phone and pressed the intercom button.

“Laura, please reschedule my ten o’clock.”

Holy hell—he wants to keep me here?

I didn’t know if I could handle another minute in his presence. I wasn’t myself when I was near him. My careful guard, the walls I tightly clung to whenever I was near another man, seemed to crumble to the wayside with just one look from him. I could feel my heart begin to race as I watched him move at a slow pace toward me, a predatory gleam shining in his eyes.