True Love. Brenda Jackson

between them could be, and would be, controlled. They were professionals. This was a professional evening, and they would handle it as such. She had a very strong idea that he had no more intention of getting caught up in a personal involvement with her than she with him. He was her boss and she was his employee, and while they worked together they would handle themselves accordingly.

      They both relaxed somewhat. Without saying a word they'd somehow reached an understanding.

      She decided to be the one to break the tense silence. "Mr. Chenault, I'm ready."

      He straightened and stepped back when she walked out of her room and closed the door behind her. "You look nice, Ms. Kirkland."

      "Thank you." She couldn't help but note how close he was as they walked together to the elevator. The heat between them still simmered. When they entered the empty compartment and the doors shut behind them with finality, every muscle in her body was on edge. So much for thinking she'd be able to relax around him now that an understanding had been reached.

      "Did you take a nap?"

      Shayla blinked a couple of times before Nicholas's question registered in her hazed mind. "Yes."

      "Good. It helps with jet lag."

      It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that jet lag was the least of her problems. They continued their ride down to the eighth floor, where the restaurant was located. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, they stepped out quickly, needing to be out in the open and around others; needing to breathe again and get their minds back on track.

      "This way," Nicholas whispered close to her ear as he captured her elbow in his hand. His touch sent sparks flying all the way from Shayla's head to her toes. She wondered if he had felt them. Taking a quick glance up at his face, she saw his mouth had tightened. It was a dead giveaway that he had.

      They kept walking, ignoring passersby's whispered comments that the two of them made such a striking couple. Some of the comments were spoken in Chinese, and Shayla hoped Nicholas had not understood them.

      They finally reached the entrance to the elegant restaurant. As they stood together and waited for the host to seat them, Nicholas leaned over and whispered, "I hope you like Chinese food." A smile tilted his lips.

      Shayla couldn't help returning his smile-it seemed to be contagious. "There's a Chinese proverb, Mr. Chenault, that says, ‘Food is heaven-especially when it's Chinese,’" she whispered back to him.

      His smile widened. And so did hers.

      Nicholas knew he was in trouble as they followed the host to their table. Shayla was wearing "that" perfume again, and the scent of it was driving him insane. It was the same scent she'd worn the day of the interview-sultry, seductive. It was meant to captivate, dazzle, bewitch. It was working on him full force.

      He took a deep breath when he pulled the chair out for her, inhaling deeply and forcing his mind and his body to get a grip. He could hardly think standing this close to her. He quickly stepped back and took his own seat.

      "So, you like Chinese food?" he asked for lack of anything else to say.

      "Yes." Then, leaning over the table toward him so as not to offend their host, who was busy opening their menus, she whispered in a serious tone, "But I like Japanese food just as much."

      Nicholas could not stop the deep chuckle that escaped his lips. He'd been right. Shayla Kirkland had an amazing personality. He waited until the host had left after pouring their wine before saying, "I must personally apologize for whisking you away from Chicago on such short notice. I do appreciate your coming. Your help with the negotiations will definitely be needed."

      Shayla raised a curious brow. "Why is that? I thought this was basically a done deal, with only a few loose ends to tie up. The report I read on the plane alluded to that."

      Nicholas smiled. "We're hoping that's true. But as a businessman I've learned to always look for surprises in the last stages of negotiations. One of the men who'll be at tomorrow's meeting has never attended any of the others. It's my understanding he's a smooth Chinese businessman, and someone I need to watch out for. I also understand he doesn't care much for doing business with Americans."

      Nicholas sat back in his chair. "That's enough discussion of business for now. We'll resume that after we've ordered dinner. Can you suggest something for me to try?"

      During dinner the conversation between Shayla and Nicholas centered more on the professional than the personal, and the mood was comfortable.

      "I hope this last-minute trip to China didn't upset your significant other," Nicholas said smoothly, taking a sip of wine. He was abruptly shifting the subject matter, and they both knew it.

      Shayla lowered her lashes, attempting to hide her surprise. Up until that moment, he hadn't inquired about anything having to do with her personal life. She lifted her gaze to meet his. "I don't have a significant other, unless you want to count my Aunt Callie, who's my mom's younger sister. She's all the family I have, and the only person who's important to me."

      Talking about family reminded Shayla of the reason she was involved with Chenault Electronics in the first place. Deciding to shift the topic of conversation back to business, she said, "So, what do you think our chances are of the Ling Deal being closed tomorrow?"

      Shayla stepped into the huge bathtub, submerging herself in the hot bubbly water. The heat felt nice, and the bubbles smelled good. She leaned against the back of the tub and closed her eyes, remembering how well the night had gone. Except for the time Mr. Chenault had asked her about a significant other, the conversation had remained strictly business.

      But still, that hadn't stopped her from appreciating his good looks. It had been hard sitting across from him feigning absolute nonchalance when she'd been attuned to every aspect of him. Everything about him had been sensuous: the way he drank his wine, the way he ate his food, even the way he held his eating utensils. But nothing was more sensuous than the way he lifted his eyebrow when he didn't quite understand something. His lifting that brow did things to her insides. It had been so hard for her to keep a firm grasp on her impulses.

      She had to hand it to both of them. They had handled things extremely well when they read a fortune cookie message that said, "Your destinies will be entwined from this moment on." They'd shrugged it off without making any comment about it. Later when he had escorted her back to her room, he had remained professional and businesslike. He had turned and quickly walked across the huge lobby to his suite.

      But now, back in the privacy of her own suite, in the intimacy of her bathroom, Shayla wanted to indulge a little in fantasy, knowing nothing would ever come of it. That would make it easier to get down to business tomorrow. She needed to get thoughts of him out of her system. The information he had divulged at dinner about the Ling Deal indicated that he had put a lot of his company's funds into it, not to mention those of his financial backers. His hopes were high about this deal going through. Setting the Ling Deal into motion had connections to another project he had in the works, a project he'd avoided discussing with her. She couldn't help but wonder what it was. But still, without knowing it, Nicholas Chenault had placed in her hands a way to destroy him financially. And she could do so as soon as tomorrow. She could effortlessly ruin things for him at that business meeting in the morning.

      But she didn't want to think about that. She wanted to fantasize. For just a few exhilarating moments, she wanted to pretend he was not her enemy, that he was her lover-a lover like no other, which wouldn't be hard to imagine since she'd never had a lover. For just a few moments, she wanted to wonder how things could be with him.

      Closing her eyes, she could imagine his long experienced fingers caressing their way from the peaks of her breasts to the heels of her feet, making her whimper-a little like she was doing now, just thinking about it. She could imagine the feel of his kiss, hot and moist as it captured her mouth with frantic hunger-a hunger that she reciprocated.

      Shayla opened her eyes. Fantasizing about the enemy was a lot less harmful than sleeping with the enemy, which was something she would never do. She was on a mission, and because