new Chicago office. She would definitely bring a lot of experience and diversity to the table. He would be a total fool not to hire her.
Yet he was contemplating that very thing.
Nicholas stood and walked over to the window. Since buying this building six months ago, he had decided he liked the location because it provided a stunning view of downtown Chicago. The metropolis was totally different from downtown Jacksonville, Florida, where his home office was located. Here in Chicago, the buildings surrounding his were tall and impressive, but the areas surrounding those structures were crowded and congested. One of the things he appreciated most about the location of his office building in Jacksonville was the beautiful view of the St. Johns River and the land space that came with it. Jacksonville had more land space than any other city in Florida. And with the revitalization plans the city had underway, it wouldn't be long before downtown Jacksonville boasted structures that were just as tall and impressive, a scenic river view that would continue to be breathtaking, and surrounding buildings that would still provide space.
Space was something he appreciated more than anything, especially personal space, which was why he was thinking seriously about not hiring Shayla Kirkland.
For the first time since taking over Chenault Electronics after his father's death three years ago, he had been totally captivated by a woman. He had definitely not expected the rush of pleasure that hit him square in the solar plexus when he'd taken her hand in his to shake it. He had been overcome with a weird feeling, and-although he had been able to downplay it and get through the interview session with Shayla Kirkland without any hint of the turmoil he'd been in-it had been there, just the same. He had noted everything about her, things he had needed to notice and things he had not-like the perfect coloring of her pantyhose against the flesh of her smooth legs, and the fullness of her lips, and how those lips seemed to have been begging for a kiss even while she was in her most professional mode. For the first time in his life he had felt cramped and closed in.
Threatened about his space.
All the time she had been talking to him, telling him about her extensive travels abroad before she'd finally taken a job as manager of the Business Department at Howard University, he had been thinking that any man would have designs on her. She was definitely a woman who deserved a man's complete attention. And if that thought hadn't been bad enough, at another time during the interview, when a small wisp of hair had fallen out of place and brushed her forehead, he had been tempted to reach over and tuck the strand back in place. There was no way he could work as closely with her as he would need to for the next six to eight months without feeling devoid of space…and of sane thoughts and body control. Shayla Kirkland might be well-qualified for the position she had applied for-to his way of thinking maybe even a tad overqualified-but she would also be a threat he didn't want to deal with. And with the security surrounding his company's development of the mangolid chip, better known as the MC Project, he didn't need anything or anyone around him that could challenge his focus. The last thing he needed was to be in the constant company of a woman he consistently thought of taking to bed.
Nicholas sighed before walking back over to the desk and sitting down. He leaned back in his chair, trying to remember the last time he had been intimate with a woman, and coming up with the conclusion that it had been too long. Because of his vigorous work schedule he'd been too busy to carve out time for a personal life, and he'd never gone for the idea of having sex just for the sake of doing so. At the age of thirty-two he had an intense sexual drive, like most men his age. However, he knew how to control it. Marriage and children were the last things on his mind. Although he much preferred a long-term relationship to a short-term one, he also preferred a relationship in which the two individuals knew up front what to expect and what not to expect. The one thing any woman he became involved with could not expect was an invitation to become a "live-in"-he allowed no one to invade his space-or share it, for that matter.
His last long-term affair had been with Olivia. They had lasted nearly a year before she began dropping hints that it was time for their relationship to move to another level. Since the level they'd been operating on had suited him just fine and he'd seen no reason to change it, she had decided to move on. That had been more than a year ago, and he hadn't been intimate with a woman since. Of course, since the press conference ten months ago-when it had been announced to the world that he was the half brother of superstar movie actor Sterling Hamilton-women from everywhere had been coming on to him in droves, but he'd been too busy to appreciate his newfound popularity. Not that he would have, anyway, since that wasn't his style. His mind had been filled with thoughts of mangolid chips and micron-controllers, not silken sheets, naked bodies, and hot sex.
Until today.
For the first time in over a year he had obsessive thoughts of sleeping with a woman-Shayla Kirkland. No, he quickly corrected, he had more than just thoughts of sleeping with her. During the interview, he'd had visions of her in his arms, the scent of her entrenched in his skin, the taste of her on his tongue, and the feel of him hard and solid as a rock inside of her. Lucky for him he'd been sitting behind a desk.
He was smart enough to know that Shayla Kirkland was a disaster just waiting to happen. She would tempt him to break his own personal rule of not dating any of his employees. Making a quick decision, he checked the block on the interview evaluation form for Do not hire. He would release her file to his secretary, so she could send out the customary Sorry, but you did not get the job letter.
He had to do whatever was needed to protect his space and his peace of mind.
Emotions too numerous to name swept through Shayla as she entered her home. Her world was tilting, and she was experiencing the movement right along with it. Leaning against the closed door to get her balance, she breathed in deeply to take a mind-clearing breath.
The interview had tense moments for her. Although Nicholas Chenault had been the epitome of a professional throughout the process, she had felt a tingling in the pit of her stomach every time she had looked into the depths of his golden eyes. Eyes that color were a rarity among African-Americans unless they wore color contacts. It was obvious his eye color was natural. It was perfectly in sync with his skin tone.
A glimmer of warmth flooded through her as she remembered sitting across from him during the interview. In the beginning it had seemed as if she had no defense against her attraction to him. His startling good looks had nearly taken the wind out of her sails, leaving her body feeling as if it were being heated.
Shayla pushed away from the door, walked across the room, and dropped onto the sofa. Although she had gotten off to a shaky start, she believed she would get the job. Then she would make Chenault Electronics pay for what they had done to her mother nearly twenty-seven years ago. First, she would deal with Chenault. Then she would find a way to take care of Thomas Jordache, the man who owned TJ Electronics. She would have taken care of him first if he had not been out of the country on business. According to his office, he would not be returning for another three weeks or so. That would give her time to put together a plan to deal with him, since he had been the initiator of her mother's woes back then.
Sitting up straight in her seat, Shayla reached over to pick up a book from the coffee table in front of her. It was her mother's diary. She had found it last week when she'd been in the attic going through her mother's things. The information she had uncovered after reading the diary had tilted her world, had literally rocked it. According to what her mother had written, Glenn Kirkland, the man Shayla had grown up believing was her father until his death two years ago, had not been. Glenn had married her mother when she was ten weeks pregnant with another man's child, willingly giving the unborn child his name, his love, and his protection. It had all come about because of a web of deceit and lies.
Shayla closed the diary and placed it back on the table. Twenty-seven years ago her mother suffered an enormous amount of humiliation for nothing. She had been stripped
