A single mom, a sexy boss...and a second chance
Meagan Quinn has paid her debt to society; now sheâs out on parole and must provide for her daughter. Itâs weird enough that the man she betrayed is offering her a jobâand 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 itâs 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?
âYou could show me your room.â
She knew it was a bold thing to say, but she didnât care. She needed to convey her feelings, especially with how easily they were touching each other. âIâve been wondering what your bedroom is like.â
âThatâs a dangerous thought, Meagan.â
âI canât help it.â 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 hadnât noticed before now. âWhat have you been wondering about?â
âWhat it would feel like to kiss you.â
âThatâs easy to find out.â 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 seriesâThree foster brothers grow up, get rich...and find the perfect woman.
One
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.
Sheâd spent nearly three years in prison for a crime sheâd stupidly committed. Sheâd 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 hadnât come easily. The parole commission had considered the job carefully before theyâd approved it because Garrett Snow, the billionaire who owned the resort and had offered to hire her, was one of Meaganâs victims. Sheâd embezzled sixty thousand dollars from Garrett and his equally rich foster brothers. Basically, sheâd 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 sheâd 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 wasnât sure why Garrett had decided to help her to begin with. That part wasnât quite clear to her.
She just wished that she wasnât so darned nervous about coming face-to-face with him again. Sheâd 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 Garrettâs 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.