A Billionaire for Ms Snow

by Laura Ann

  A BILLIONAIRE

  FOR MS. SNOW

  By Laura Ann

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  A BILLIONAIRE FOR MS. SNOW

  First edition. December 31, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Laura Ann.

  Written by Laura Ann.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  EPILOGUE

  THE GRUFFMAN BROTHERS

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  CHAPTER 1

  DEDICATION

  To the Mother in Law who reads everything I write.

  Your support means more than you know.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Thank you to Victorine for the wonderful cover.

  And to my Beta Group for their feedback which helps

  better than I can make them on my own.

  Join my Newsletter and receive a FREE

  Copy of “A Home for the Ugly Duckling”.

  JOIN HERE

  PROLOGUE

  Ooh, something is going on here. Snow’s eyes darted back and forth between her friend and colleague, Zellie Gothel, and the man who had just joined them, Hank Fitzherbert. All three of them sat at a small table in the middle of the reception area. Zellie and Snow had come to support their friend Tia as she married one of the famous Gruffman brothers.

  “My mother doesn’t like to travel so I usually stick around and help out the summer sports programs,” Zellie explained to Hank.

  “That’s cool,” Hank said. His eyes shifted to Snow. “What do you teach?”

  Snow smiled. “I’m a second-grade teacher.”

  “And did you also have the summer off?”

  “No. I helped out with the summer school reading program. But it’s only a couple hours a day, so it’s still like having a vacation.” Snow took another bite of the delicious cream puffs on her plate. Oh my goodness, this food is divine. If I ever get married, I definitely want to use the same caterer.

  “Wow. That’s impressive.” Hank said with a nod. “Oof!” Hank fell forward a little when a meaty hand slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Why do I always find you surrounded by ladies, Hank?” A deep, gravelly voice said.

  Oh, my... Snow’s eyes wandered up, up, up until they finally collided with the darkest, most intense eyes she had ever seen. I’ve never seen black eyes before. Holy cow.

  Hank’s grin was lopsided as he shifted to look at the giant standing behind him. “Hello, Quentin. How come I never find you surrounded by ladies?”

  Quentin snorted at the snarky response.

  Snow and Zellie were both thunderstruck as they watched the huge man speak to their table.

  Quentin’s voice boomed. “Are you going to introduce me?”

  “Well, I wasn’t planning on it, didn’t want the competition, you understand.” Hank grinned. “But since you asked so nicely.” Hank turned to look at the two women, who were both still staring. “Zellie, Snow, this is Quentin Gruffman, Brody’s oldest brother.”

  Another snort came from the large man.

  “Quentin, this is Zellie Gothel and Willow White, known to her friends as Snow, for her fair skin,” Hank teased as he explained the story of Snow’s nickname.

  Quentin raised an eyebrow which made him look even more intimidating than he already did.

  He just exudes power. How does he do that?

  “So you’re only a friend, huh?” Quentin said to Hank.

  Hank rolled his eyes. “At least I can say that.” He shot back.

  Quentin leaned over Hank with his hand out. “Ms. Gothel,” Quentin large hands completely engulfed Zellie’s smaller one. “Ms. White,” Quentin’s eyes and hand lingered, surprisingly gentle even for their size.

  “Mr. Gruffman,” Snow’s voice was soft and she couldn’t seem to find the will to pull away from his touch.

  “Please, call me Quentin.”

  “Only if you call me Snow,” Snow said, finally managing to put a smile on her face.

  An orchestra started up in the background of their little meeting and Quentin must have noticed. He shifted his hand on Snow’s until he held underneath her fingers and then guided her to her feet. “We’ll start with that,” Quentin said confidently as he led her away from the table and to the dance floor.

  Snow could tell her skin was bright red as her internal temperature skyrocketed. She wanted to reach up and fan her cheeks, but she didn’t want to draw any more attention to her blush than she had to.

  Quentin stopped on the dance floor and gently swung her around until she was right in front of him. When Snow looked up, her eyes once again locked with his and she felt trapped. Everything about him was intense. His gaze bore into hers and Snow felt as if he was somehow extracting all her secrets.

  Slowly, he lifted their joined hands and slipped his free one around her back. Snow could hardly breathe as she waited for his next move.

  After pausing for the beat, he seamlessly slid them into a waltz and began spinning her around the room.

  “So, your friends call you Snow?” His big voice filled the small space between them and rumbled through Snow’s core.

  She forced a deep breath into her lungs and pushed her mouth to respond. “Yes. I’ve always been extremely fair skinned and from the time I was little, people have always said my skin was as white as snow.” She smiled and shrugged a shoulder. “Thus a name was born.”

  Quentin’s lip twitched. “Do you like the name?”

  “Oh, it’s fine. There are definitely much worse nicknames out there and it’s not like I was given this one out of spite.” As the warmth of his body penetrated her muscles, she began to relax in his arms. At five-foot-ten, she rarely felt small, but Quentin’s overwhelming presence made her feel petite for the first time in her life. “Plus, it’s not the name that bothers me as much as the skin itself. I burn so fast, I can hardly enjoy warm weather.” She scrunched her nose. “Makes summer difficult. And spring. And fall. And sunny days in winter, come to think about it.”

  Quentin chuckled and Snow found herself fascinated at the sound. It’s so deep and rough.

  “That’s quite the list. Is there any season you can enjoy?”

  Snow smiled. “Probably winter. We get enough overcast days that I can get outside more, plus I love winter sports.”

  Quentin’s eyebrow shot up. “Really? Like what?”

  Snow shrugged one shoulder again. “Sledding, ice skating, walking, and hiking.”

  “Hiking is a winter sport?”

  “Not necessarily, but it’s a beautiful time of year. I guess my nickname is more appropriate than I thought. I actually love snow. It’s so beautiful.”

  Quentin nodded. “It certainly is,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Snow thought her heart would stop at his double meaning. What is wrong with me? One touch and this guy is turning my world upside down.

  Quentin’s head shot up when the music stopped. Snow watched in surprise as something that resembled regret passed through his face.

  He looked down at
her. “As much as I would love to stay and get to know you better, I’m afraid I need to mingle for a while. Do you plan to stay?”

  “I carpooled, so I’m afraid I’m at the mercy of my driver.” Snow scanned the area for Ruby and Derrick. She finally spotted Derrick’s golden head by the buffet table. Nodding her head in that direction, “I came with my friend Ruby and her husband Derrick.”

  Quentin followed her nod then looked back at her. Picking up her hand, he brought it to his lips. “Until later, then.”

  Snow’s eyes were wide and her jaw was slack as he walked away. Who kisses a woman’s hand anymore? She sighed and rubbed the spot his lips had been. Goodness, I can see why women swoon over it, though.

  IT TOOK A RIDICULOUS amount of effort for Quentin to walk away from the lovely Ms. White. You just met her, imbecile. Where’s that cool head you’re so well known for? “Gone the moment I saw her,” he grumbled to himself as he grabbed a glass of sparkling water from a passing waiter.

  He walked over to Mayor Weatherby, who was waving him down. “Ah, Mr. Gruffman! Good to see you.”

  “Weatherby,” Quentin acknowledged him with a nod of his head. His eyes wandered through the rest of the circle and he gave small nods in greeting to all of them.

  “We’ve been discussing the latest polls about the renovations needed around the city. Have you had a chance to look them over yet?” Weatherby smoothed his hair back with one hand and held onto a glass of champagne with the other. His tan skin and ultra-white teeth labeled him a politician or an actor before he ever spoke a word.

  Or maybe both. Quentin squelched the sarcastic voice in his head before he said something he shouldn’t.

  “I can’t say that I have. The wedding has taken up most of my time, lately.”

  “That and saving your company,” another man pointed out.

  Quentin raised an eyebrow, knowing his cool disdain was legendary, as a warning not to push him on that particular topic.

  The gentleman cleared his throat and looked down into his drink, unable to maintain eye contact.

  “My business is just fine, thank you for your concern, gentlemen.” He turned toward the Mayor. “I’ll take a look at the information as soon as things have calmed down around here.” He circled the group with his eyes. “Thank you and please enjoy your evening.”

  Turning, he began walking back the way he had come. It took only moments for him to be stopped again.

  “Hello, Quentin,” a female voice purred.

  Quentin stopped and tenses. Shoot. Can’t even get away from them at a wedding. Slowly he turned toward the voice and her companion. “Mrs. Smith. Nice to see you.” His eyes jumped toward her friend and back.

  “Oh.” Penelope Smith flicked a hand at her companion. “This is my friend, Lucille.” Stepping closer, she put her hand on Quentin’s forearm. “Now that Brody has married, has it opened your own mind to any possibilities?”

  Not when I’m cursed in love. “No. Can’t say that it has.” He stepped back so her arm would fall.

  Penelope pouted at his movement and it caused her medically enhanced lips to look too big for her face.

  That’s not the only thing medically enhanced on her. Quentin made sure his vision stayed above her shoulders although Penelope had dressed in an attempt to keep it lower.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check in on the caterers.” Quentin nodded and walked away. He held back a shiver as he created distance between him and the viper behind him. Why are all the women I meet like her? Why can’t I find someone real and kind and down to earth? Someone who doesn’t care about my wealth, but about me?

  His mind wandered back to the dark-haired beauty he had danced with. Her skin was like silk. Flawless. And her red lips were the perfect cupid’s bow, just right for kissing. Quentin stopped abruptly. “You don’t even know her,” he quietly chided himself.

  “Talking to yourself, old man? Should I start looking for a home to put you in?” A voice almost as deep and gravelly as his own interrupted Quentin’s thoughts.

  “As much as you’d probably enjoy taking over the CEO position, I’m not quite ready for the old folks’ home,” Quentin shot back at his brother.

  Finley smiled a smile that had charmed many a woman, at his brother. “Just checking. And don’t worry,” he straightened his sleeves. “I have no desire to take over your position.” He fake shivered. “Way too much responsibility for someone as pretty as myself.”

  Quentin fought the desire to roll his eyes, but only just. “Someday, little brother. Someday I will enjoy watching you fall.”

  Finley’s head snapped toward Quentin. “I beg your pardon. There are way too many women available to fall for just one.”

  Quentin once again held himself in check. He knew Finley was still hurting from Victoria’s deception. Apparently, dating every female within a fifty-mile radius is the way to handle it.

  Finley slapped Quentin on the shoulder. “I’ll leave the falling to you and little Brody.”

  If only. “I suppose we’ll have to be bachelors together then.”

  Finley narrowed his eyes. “Don’t try to fool me, Quent. I know full well you want to settle down.”

  Quentin took a deep breath and tried to walk around his brother.

  Finley countered and refused to budge. “I also know you think you’re somehow, ‘cursed’, in love.” Finley used his fingers to create quotation marks.

  Quentin’s voice dropped lower than normal and took on an icy tone. “You don’t know anything,” he said testily.

  Finley smirked. “I know enough. Enough to know it’s all a bunk. There are no such things as curses and using examples from your past to keep you from pursuing something in the future is the mark of a coward.”

  Quentin reared back as if he had been slapped.

  “And we both know you are no coward, Quent.” Finley’s eyes were deadly serious and his tone matched. “You’ve taken care of this family for many years. Perhaps, it’s time to move forward and take care of yourself.”

  Without another word, Finley walked around his brother and slung his arms around two available females not too far from where the brothers were conversing.

  Quentin spun on his heel and watched his brother walk away. I’ve never heard him speak so seriously. Could he be right? The thought of looking to his own future had him unconsciously searching the floor for Snow, but to his dismay, she was nowhere to be found.

  He turned and finished his walk to the kitchen. It’s probably for the best, anyway. Curse or not, I don’t deserve someone as sweet as her.

  CHAPTER 1

  Six Months Later, just after New Years.

  Snow was busy wiping frosting from Messy’s face when she heard her ringtone go off. Great, just as my hands are busy. She scanned the table, but every child there was busy eating or decorating a cookie and were in no shape to answer her phone.

  “Caden?” Snow called sweetly over her shoulder, aiming towards the front room of her apartment. “Would you mind answering that?”

  A grunt was her only response. Hopefully, that means yes.

  “Ole Grumpy over there got it,” Repeat said around a finger full of frosting.

  Snow grinned. “Thank you for the report, but remember, he doesn’t like to be called Grumpy.”

  Repeat shrugged.

  “Who cares?” Pete, his identical twin brother said in response.

  Snow wiped her hands on a cleaning cloth and stood up with her hands on her hips. “You should care. He’s your brother.” She frowned at the two mischievous boys. It was hard to keep a straight face around them. Their dirty blond hair hung in front of exquisitely green eyes that were constantly twinkling with ideas. Ideas that often got them in trouble.

  Snow sighed and shook her head before working on Messy’s face again. The four-year-old in front of her had some kind of superhuman ability to attract messes, hence the nickname Messy, which had been lovingly bestowed by little Isaac’s mother.

 
; Marge Meadows is one brave woman, Snow thought to herself. Her next-door neighbor had taken on the task of raising her seven children by herself when her husband had been killed in the line of duty. Marge was quirky, but sweet and always seemed to be on the go.

  Snow helped out whenever she could. Since she worked as a school teacher, she was often home at the same time as the children and would invite them over for activities, such as today. They were on their last few days of winter break and Snow had baked cookies for them to decorate.

  A tap on her shoulder had Snow spinning around, only to find Caden, also known as Grumpy to his family, holding out her phone.

  “It’s a man,” he muttered before stomping back to the other room.

  Snow’s brows furrowed. A man? He held the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Is this Ms. Willow White?” A deep, gravelly voice came across the speaker.

  Snow felt her heart stutter in recognition. But it’s been like six months? Why would he call now? “Y-yes,” she managed to stutter out.

  “This is Quentin Gruffman, we met last summer at Tia and Brody’s wedding.”

  Snow’s emotions were flying in every direction so she fell back on her school teacher manners. “Yes, I remember. How have you been?”

  “Uh, fine, thank you.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I was wondering...“ His pause made Snow’s breath quicken. “I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner sometime.”

  “Oh!” Snow gasped. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness. Quentin Gruffman was hands down the most handsome man Snow had ever met. She thought there had been a spark when they had danced at the wedding last summer, but when months went by and he didn’t call or try to get a hold of her, she figured it must have been one-sided.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “I’d love to,” Snow blurted out, then closed her eyes and slapped her forehead. Smooth Snow. Way to act cool.