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Single Mom, Billionaire Boss
Sheri WhiteFeather
A single mom, a sexy boss…and a second chance Meagan Quinn has paid her debt to society; now she's out on parole and must provide for her daughter. It's weird enough that the man she betrayed is offering her a job—and a chance at redemption. Why does she have to find him irresistible, too?For skeptical billionaire Garrett Snow, employing Meagan is an exercise in building trust. But it's his growing desire for her that has him on edge. All it takes is one kiss to prove their very real connection… But will one mistake end their affair and their dreams of an instant family?
A single mom, a sexy boss...and a second chance
Meagan Quinn has paid her debt to society; now she’s out on parole and must provide for her daughter. It’s weird enough that the man she betrayed is offering her a job—and a chance at redemption. Why does she have to find him irresistible, too?
For skeptical billionaire Garrett Snow, employing Meagan is an exercise in building trust. But it’s his growing desire for her that has him on edge. All it takes is one kiss to prove their very real connection... But will one mistake end their affair and their dreams of an instant family?
“You could show me your room.”
She knew it was a bold thing to say, but she didn’t care. She needed to convey her feelings, especially with how easily they were touching each other. “I’ve been wondering what your bedroom is like.”
“That’s a dangerous thought, Meagan.”
“I can’t help it.” She looked into the depths of his eyes, nearly losing herself in them. They were the deepest, darkest, richest shade of brown, with tiny amber flecks that she hadn’t noticed before now. “What have you been wondering about?”
“What it would feel like to kiss you.”
“That’s easy to find out.” Meagan lifted her chin, inviting him to satisfy his curiosity.
Garrett hesitated, but only for a moment. Clearly, his willpower was at the brink. He tugged her even closer, lowered his head and put his lips warmly against hers.
Holy. Heaven. On. Earth.
Everything inside her went wonderfully weak.
* * *
Single Mom, Billionaire Boss is part of the Billionaire Brothers Club series—Three foster brothers grow up, get rich...and find the perfect woman.
Single Mom, Billionaire Boss
Sheri WhiteFeather
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
SHERI WHITEFEATHER is an award-winning, bestselling author. She writes a variety of romance novels for Mills & Boon and is known for incorporating Native American elements into her stories. She has two grown children who are tribally enrolled members of the Muscogee Creek Nation. She lives in California and enjoys shopping in vintage stores and visiting art galleries and museums. Sheri loves to hear from her readers at www.sheriwhitefeather.com (http://www.sheriwhitefeather.com).
Contents
Cover (#u8861f0ee-f114-5ee8-b225-412713c85caf)
Back Cover Text (#u6a36145a-9adb-542a-ab22-bdbbcd8778fc)
Introduction (#uf2ab6c70-f5ea-558a-a5fd-8b5a8b8fc7be)
Title Page (#u73c3ffea-86eb-5e72-b2ac-a9082ab46db9)
About the Author (#uf56a7068-b843-559b-b411-900079f7df11)
One (#uf8185be4-0316-5412-ba66-96cd64df8522)
Two (#uddb08f80-7ee7-5e48-96cf-fa68aa75ca5c)
Three (#u0142331d-a93a-5977-8691-2daa0c4f41f1)
Four (#u3e584974-df42-5e2c-b0be-8b3fe77191a3)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
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Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
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Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#u41defe55-207a-542d-ab7d-feb110d6f97b)
At twenty-seven, Meagan Quinn was starting her life over. People often said they were going to, especially screwups like herself, but she meant it.
Really, truly meant it.
She’d spent nearly three years in prison for a crime she’d stupidly committed. She’d only been out for a week, and now here she was at the Ocean Cliff Hotel and Resort, preparing to finalize the details of her employment.
She exited her car and smoothed the front of her skirt, anxious about her appearance, hoping that she looked more composed than she felt. As she crossed the parking lot, a Southern California breeze stirred her long, straight dark hair and rustled the scarf attached to her blouse.
One of the terms of her release was that she had to have a job lined up, but this one hadn’t come easily. The parole commission had considered the job carefully before they’d approved it because Garrett Snow, the billionaire who owned the resort and had offered to hire her, was one of Meagan’s victims. She’d embezzled sixty thousand dollars from Garrett and his equally rich foster brothers. Basically, she’d nabbed twenty grand from each man from the accounting firm where she used to work.
A portion of her wages from this job would be used for restitution so she could pay back what she’d stolen. Her victims had arranged for it to go to their foster care charity, instead of it being returned directly to them. Regardless, Meagan wanted to make amends, to prove that she was reformed.
When Garrett had offered her this job, it had been through a written correspondence, simply stating that he was willing to give her a fresh start, if the parole commission agreed that she was ready to be released. But she still wasn’t sure why Garrett had decided to help her to begin with. That part wasn’t quite clear to her.
She just wished that she wasn’t so darned nervous about coming face-to-face with him again. She’d done him wrong, and now she was at his mercy, trying to keep her heart from blasting its way out of her chest and splattering her pretty new blouse.
Meagan entered the hotel, clutching her purse and a manila envelope that contained her paperwork. She would be working here as a stable hand. The resort offered all sorts of luxuries, including horseback riding along the beach.
As she passed through the lobby, her boots sounded on the colorfully tiled floor. The overall decor consisted of painted woods, breezy fabrics and Native American accents. Garrett was a half blood from the Northern Cheyenne Nation. Meagan had the same tribal affiliation.
She headed down the hallway that led to Garrett’s office and came to two big double doors. After taking a deep breath, she opened them and approached the male receptionist seated at a circular desk. He was young and trendy, maybe a college student, with buzz-cut blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He greeted her with a smile, and she gave him her name. He checked her appointment on the computer and instructed her to wait.
Meagan glanced around. The waiting area was big and bright, with magazines scattered on glass-topped tables. She sat on the edge of a printed sofa and placed the envelope on her lap, trying not to fidget. She was the only person there.
About ten minutes later, the receptionist escorted her to Garrett’s private office and left her alone with him, closing the door with a soft and scary click.
Garrett gazed across the room at her, but neither of them spoke. He was standing beside his desk, dressed in a sharp gray suit and Western-style boots. His short black hair was combed straight back, making the angles of his handsome face more prominent. He was a well-built man, tall in stature, with wide shoulders. By now, he would be thirty-two years old.
The last time she’d seen him in person had been at her sentencing, and that was almost three years ago. She’d broken down and cried that day, apologizing for what she’d done, but he’d been unmoved by her tears. She remembered how stoic he’d looked then. He looked stoic now, too. She wasn’t even sure why he was helping her now.
Finally he said, “Have a seat.”
She thanked him and took the proffered chair.
He walked behind his desk. After a moment of silence, of squaring his shoulders and straightening his tie, he sat down, too. “Did you bring the forms?”
“Yes.” She handed him the envelope, hating how awkward this was.
While he sifted through the papers, she thought about how they’d become acquainted. On occasion, she’d caught sight of his foster brothers at the firm, slipping in to meet with their accountant. At the time, she hadn’t yet seen Garrett, who was rumored to have a hard-edged nature. But she’d preferred it that way. By then, Meagan had already been stealing from all three men, and the last thing she’d wanted was to grow fond of any of them.
She and Neil, her longtime boyfriend, had plotted every aspect of the embezzlement, with Meagan taking the money so they could live a more glamorous life. But, in actuality, it was Neil who craved fancy things. Meagan, idiot that she was, just wanted Neil to love and adore her in the same blind-faith way that she’d loved and adored him.
Then, one day during her lunch hour at work, she came into contact with Garrett. She was sitting on the curb outside of the building, crying, on the heels of a telephone argument with Neil.
Garrett had approached her and asked if she was okay. She’d insisted that she was, but he’d plopped down beside her anyway, introducing himself and giving her the handkerchief from his pocket. It had seemed like something out of a movie, so gallant, so old-fashioned. The hard-edged billionaire was more human than she could have imagined.
He’d walked her back inside, and while they were saying goodbye in the lobby, he’d pilfered a daisy from one of the flower arrangements and presented it to her. She remembered clutching the fragile bloom and feeling horribly guilty about the money she’d already taken from him. And when she went home that night to Neil, Garrett Snow had been all she could think about.
She’d seen him a number of times after that, and every time he came to the accounting firm’s office, he stopped by her desk to talk to her, treating her like a friend.
But she wasn’t his friend. She’d stolen from him and allowed Neil to burn through the money, telling herself that she’d done it because she loved Neil. Yet, even in the midst of that supposed love, she’d been fighting warm and stirring feelings for Garrett.
He glanced up from the documents in his hands. “I’ll send these over to HR later today, and you can start next Monday.”
“Thank you.” She tried for a smile, wishing that he would smile, too. Then again, maybe it was better that he was being so detached. His smile used to make her knees watery and weak. “I really need this job.”
“I’m aware of your situation.” He returned the paperwork to the envelope. “I heard that you had a baby while you were in prison, and that she’s about two now.”
“Yes, I have a sweet little daughter.” Meagan had discovered that she was pregnant soon after she was incarcerated, throwing her already-damaged world for a loop. “Her name is Ivy.”
“One of your brothers took custody of her, didn’t he?”
Meagan nodded. “Yes. Tanner, and his fiancée, Candy, raised her while I was in prison. There was no one else who was willing or able to take her.” Feeling ashamed, she paused before explaining, “Neil wasn’t an option. He walked out on me before she was born. He’s never even met her.”
Garrett frowned. “Why didn’t you implicate Neil in the crime when the cops suspected that he’d been involved?”
She answered as honestly as she could, hating how naive it was going to make her sound. “When I first got arrested, I thought that he would remain loyal to me if I protected him. I truly believed that he would wait for me.”
Garrett didn’t reply. Did he think she was a fool for trusting Neil? Or did he think she deserved it?
She explained further. “I told the police that Neil was under the impression that I’d come into the money through an inheritance. That was a lie, of course. He knew I’d embezzled it. He was involved from the start. But since there was no evidence against him, he was never charged with anything.” She quickly added, “I’m grateful that Tanner was there. After Ivy was born, he and Candy used to bring her to visit me. It wasn’t the same as seeing her every day, but it was better than not seeing her at all.” Meagan had battled her insecurities, clinging to the future, desperate to form a stronger bond with her child. “I’m trying to make up for lost time and be the best mom I can be. My baby girl is just the most amazing kid.”
Once again, Garrett didn’t say anything.
But she prattled on. “Tanner was nervous about taking her at first because he was single then. He didn’t become engaged until later. Of course now Ivy is really close to him and Candy. I even...” She stopped midsentence.
“You what?” he asked, prodding her to finish.
“Nothing.” She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she’d been so distraught and depressed in prison that she’d tried to talk Tanner and Candy into adopting Ivy. But thankfully they’d encouraged her to hold tight, knowing that she didn’t really want to give up her baby.
Garrett leaned back in his chair, watching her with a taut expression. Whatever he was thinking or feeling didn’t seem favorable.
She gazed across the desk at him. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. And to your foster brothers.”
His expression didn’t change. “You already apologized at the sentencing.”
“I know. But I wanted to say it again. Here and now.”
She paused, a lump catching in her throat. “I was sorry at the sentencing, too, but I didn’t understand who I was then.” She was a different person today. Meagan had been to hell and back. “I’ve grown up. I’ve learned from my mistakes, and if I could take it back, I would.”
“Yes, but you can’t. What’s done is done.”
She sensed that he wasn’t talking about the money but the callous way he’d been treated as the entire scenario unfolded. As wrong as they were, she couldn’t explain her actions, not without delving into deeper issues, including her mixed-up attachment to him.
“You’re right,” she said. “I can’t change it.”
He nodded, and they both went quiet, the past stirring uncomfortably between them.
Then, after another beat of heart-shredding silence, she asked, “Why did you offer me this job?”
He shifted in his seat. “I stated the reason in the letter I sent to you. The same letter I submitted to the parole commission.”
“Yes, I know. You claimed that you wanted to give me a second chance. But you don’t seem like you really want to.”
“Truthfully, none of this was my idea. My mom suggested it. She’s the one who convinced me to hire you.”
“Your real mom or one of your foster moms?” Meagan knew that he’d once been a foster child. But she didn’t know much more than that.
“My real mom. She’s always been part of my life, even when she wasn’t able to take care of me. But that’s a whole other story.”
And one he seemed reluctant to share. “Why would your mom want to go to bat for me?”
“She saw you at the sentencing and felt bad for you, with the way you were crying and whatnot.”
