“Andrea Dawson.” He pronounced it AND-ree-uh, which made her skin crawl. She followed Blake Donovan into the richly appointed office. It was masculine and modern at once, all clean lines and neutral shades. At least his taste in art and furniture wasn’t as tacky as his Craigslist ad.

“It’s Andrea,” she said to his back. “It rhymes with Leia. Like Princess Leia. You know, Star Wars? That’s how I tell people to remember it.” Jesus, she sounded like a moron. Star Wars references; way to land that job at the pizza place, Andy! And he hadn’t even looked at her yet. Even as he called her name he’d been studying her application rather than focusing any attention on her. Ass with a capital A.

“Andrea. Drea. Drea.” He tapped his finger against his desk as he seemed to be committing the correct pronunciation to memory. That was something at least. “You have sufficient computer skills, it appears.” Mr. Donovan unbuttoned his Armani jacket and sat down in a gray wingback chair without inviting her to do the same. He began running one finger down her résumé. One long, strong finger.

“I do.” She sat in a matching chair and tried not to stare. He continued perusing her résumé, and she continued ogling his body. It was long, and very fit. His chest muscles strained against his dress shirt and, wow, did he have pecs.

Perhaps it was better that he didn’t look at her. Then he wouldn’t notice her ogling.

And why was she ogling? He was inside-ugly. Total inside-ugly. She had to remember that.

Without glancing up, he asked, “Do you know your way around social media?”

“Yes.” Who didn’t these days?

He didn’t even process her answer before moving on. “Ah, I see you worked for Max Ellis as a personnel consultant.”

Andy tensed. “I did.” Her voice sounded meeker than it should. Maybe she should clear her throat? No. She’d sound awkward and awkward didn’t bode well when trying to appear attractive. Attractive as in a job candidate, not as in the sexual sense, though everything about the man did make her want to check herself in the mirror one more time.

God, why was she still so nervous? She didn’t even want the job. It had to be because Donovan was asking about Max. Yeah, that was it. This was the part of the interview she’d been dreading. She didn’t want to talk about her past employment. But it was inevitable. The faster she got it over with, the faster she could walk back through those pristine glass doors and forget this ever happened.

“Hmm.” Donovan continued staring at her résumé, though Andy was sure he must have read it over three times by now. “What did you do for him exactly?”

Just keep it simple, she told herself. And vague. “I helped him pick personnel for his key positions.” Well, that was true enough.

“You worked in human resources then?” Donovan flipped the page.

“Not exactly.” Ah, fuck simple. She’d go for the truth. What did she have to lose? “I went with him to business dinners and events where he was seeking potential candidates, and I’d mingle with them. With the people he was interested in hiring, I mean. Afterward, I’d give Max my opinion.”

His forehead wrinkled. His mouth may have twisted, too, but she couldn’t see it with his head still down. “Your opinion? On their job-worthiness?”

“Well, sort of. More like on their personality and social skills. Whether they were married or not. Whether they were the type to cheat on their girlfriend. Stuff like that. Max wanted a complete picture of every candidate.” She glanced around the room as she spoke, taking in the stark details of his office. There was nothing warm about it. No family pics, no personal mementos. Closed off. She wondered how he thought someone could possibly make a love-match for him given how sterile he was.

He cleared his throat and she guessed it was a cue to say more. “Max would use that to help determine whether he wanted to hire them.”

“In other words, you manipulated them.”

Andy grimaced. “I wouldn’t call it that…” Although it was kind of accurate.

“What would you call it then?” He paused, but not long enough for her to fill the space with an answer. “Did the candidates know that you were working for Ellis?”

She hesitated, still stuck on the question he hadn’t let her answer. What would she call the work she’d done for Max? Practical, smart, maybe borderline unethical. Actually, spying did seem to be the most correct term.

Donovan cleared his throat again.

Right; he’d been asking her something. “Excuse me, could you repeat the question?”

“Were the candidates that you spied on aware of your position?” He said it slowly, enunciating each word as if she had a hearing problem. Or was just stupid. And at this point she was feeling very much like the latter.

This time she had to clear her throat, awkward or not. “Some of them. Or at least they knew I was with him. Sometimes. Maybe not. I don’t know.” She felt flustered. That was his intent, she was sure of it. She really hated men like that—confirming their own power by intimidating women.

Donovan scratched a note on her résumé. Andy imagined what he’d written. Flusters easily, no ethics, total spy.

“And how did you get to know them, so to speak? Were these candidates always men?”

Uses her feminine wiles to obtain information from otherwise unaware men. She was sure that was what he was thinking even if he didn’t write it down. It’s what she’d be thinking. Might as well just own it. “Mostly. Yes.”

Donovan’s head rose, and he looked at her for the first time since she’d arrived in his office. His shockingly blue eyes squinted slightly as he tilted his head at her. She stared back, caught up in his penetrating gaze.

“I see.”

“What? What do you see?” What the hell was he implying? His voice was judgmental, but his expression showed almost … attraction? No, that couldn’t be right. Maybe she had something in her teeth? That wasn’t exactly the image she had hoped to project, even if this was just a practice interview.

Andy felt unbalanced. Normally she’d have a read on someone by now. Instead, all she had were her own reactions. This guy must be great at poker.

He went on as if she hadn’t said anything. “Why you? Why did he care about your opinion? I don’t see anything listed on your résumé that even remotely qualifies you to choose experts in banking.”

Oh, God. This was the part that was always hard to explain, difficult to sell to a new employer who hadn’t seen her in action. Or who, as Donovan obviously did, read sexual undertones into the job. She took a deep breath and plunged in. “I worked a temp job for Max as an administrative assistant one summer while I was in college, and—”

“Pursuing a degree in psychology?” he asked, looking again at her résumé.

“Yes. He noticed that I had a ‘unique talent for discerning people’s true motives’—his words, not mine.” Though they were words that always made her smile. She was proud of what she could do, even if it was unusual in terms of job employment.

She swallowed then went on. “He started taking me with him to business functions out of curiosity, and we sort of developed this working relationship. At the end of the summer he offered me a generous amount to continue working for him in the way I described before. He basically created a position for me. So I dropped out—left college and kept the job.”

Instead of looking skeptical as she’d suspected he would, Blake Donovan seemed interested. Intrigued, even. “You worked for him in this capacity for eight years? Why did you leave?”

She gritted her teeth. “A difference of opinion.” That dickwad, Max. It still made her see red to recall, even nine months later.

“And you haven’t held a job since?” Again, he sounded more perplexed than judgmental.