Snow and the Bear: Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance (Grimm Bears Book 2)

by Natalie Kristen

  Hans started to speak but Derek ignored him completely and turned to Snow with a charming smile. He took her hand and introduced himself, “I'm Derek Grimm, and you are...”

  “Snow.”

  Derek's brow lifted a fraction, but he smiled and shook her hand warmly. “Pleased to meet you, Snow. So...how did you end up in my brother's madhouse? Did he kidnap you?”

  “No. In fact, he saved my life.”

  “How?”

  “It's a long story,” Hans said.

  “Good thing I brought food.” Derek grinned and went to pick up a large bag of burgers and fries from the floor. He turned to Snow and said, “I dropped this when I was rushing to defend you from my crazy brother.”

  Derek dangled the bag in front of Hans and smirked. “I figured this would cheer a sick man right up.”

  “You bought junk food for a sick man?” Hans shook his head.

  “Nah. I didn't believe you were that sick. In fact, I knew you weren't sick at all.”

  “Did you now?”

  Derek shrugged and sauntered to the living room. Hans curled his arm around Snow's waist and supported her solicitously as she walked.

  “I'm fine,” she assured him but he didn't let go.

  Derek had parked himself on the couch and was already unwrapping a burger. He pushed the bag to them and said with his mouth full, “Help yourselves. You need to eat more,” he said pointedly to Snow.

  “Now, tell me the whole story. And don't leave anything out,” Derek said, cramming the rest of his burger into his mouth.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Snow listened intently as Hans told his brother everything about the accident. She tried to glean additional details from his account, but there was nothing new. Hans had already told her everything he knew, and he repeated the same story to Derek.

  Derek finished another burger and began to stuff fries into his mouth. He kept eating but Snow saw that he was in fact paying very close attention to Hans and her. He nodded as he listened to Hans and asked a few questions, but his bright green eyes watched her like a hawk.

  “So,” Derek said, wiping his mouth and burping loudly. “You really don't remember anything.”

  Snow shook her head. “I can't even remember how the accident happened. I only see snapshots in my mind, but I can't put the pieces together to see the whole picture.”

  Derek nodded slowly. “Do you know who you are, Snow?”

  She opened her mouth and closed it. “I...I'm not sure. Whatever identification I had with me that day has been burned to ashes in the blaze.”

  Derek cut his eyes to Hans and back to her. “Have you read the papers, or watched the news recently, Snow?” Derek asked casually.

  Snow started. “No.” She had just been sleeping so much. It hadn't occurred to her to switch on the TV and just watch some mindless entertainment. She didn't want to be entertained. She wanted to remember.

  Snow swallowed hard and said tightly, “What's on the news?”

  Derek busied himself with another burger and studiously ignored her.

  “Hans, please tell me. What's all over the news right now?” she asked, her pulse speeding up.

  Hans hesitated. Inhaling sharply, he replied, “You are.”

  “What?”

  “You are all over the news, Miss Snow,” Derek said, waving his burger at her.

  “Miss Snow,” she repeated slowly.

  Hans shot his brother a warning look, but Derek sat up and held his burger stiffly out in front of him as he cleared his throat and pretended to read the news. “Miss Whitney Snow, heir to the Snow White cosmetics empire, is feared dead after the burnt wreckage of her car was found at the foot of Ephen Highlands. It is believed that Miss Snow lost control of her vehicle and crashed. Her stepmother, Mrs Queenie Snow, has issued a statement, asking that the family be allowed to grieve in private.”

  Hans growled at his brother. “That's enough, Derek.”

  Derek shrugged. “Maybe it'd help her remember.”

  “It doesn't help anything. Knowing that she's Whitney Snow doesn't help anything if she can't remember who she really is. You're just confusing her and frightening her,” Hans snapped.

  Snow turned to Hans and said in a stricken whisper, “Why didn't you tell me? You knew...”

  “I wanted you to regain your health and your strength before burdening you with the truth. And I wanted to find out who was behind your accident,” Hans said, looking her straight in the eye.

  “I'm Whitney Snow,” she said numbly. “I...I have to go home. I have to let my family know I'm alive. They're grieving for me...” She stood up abruptly.

  Hans surged to his feet. “Your family...” He took a deep breath and spoke in a measured tone, “Tell me about your family, Whitney.”

  She stuttered and stared helplessly at Derek. “He said...he said my mother is grieving for me...”

  “Not your mother,” Derek clarified. “Your stepmother.”

  She turned to Hans and said fiercely, “My stepmother is grieving for me. She thinks I'm dead. I have to go home and let her know...”

  “Let her know what, Whitney?” Hans demanded, taking a step towards her. “That you're alive? That her plan has failed?”

  “W-what are you talking about?” She tried to shove him back but Hans stood firm.

  “Since you're so good at breaking the news, why don't you finish your news story, Derek?” Hans snarled at his brother.

  “Oh.” Derek straightened up obligingly. He pretended to read from the burger wrapper. “Miss Whitney Snow was to inherit the majority stake in Snow White Cosmetics. In the event of Miss Snow's untimely demise or incapacity, her shares will pass to Mrs Queenie Snow.”

  Hans turned to Whitney and said, “If you die, your stepmother gets everything. If you can't regain your memory and is deemed incapable of managing the affairs of the company, she gets everything as well. Do you understand now, Whitney?”

  She pressed her trembling hand to her mouth. “I...”

  “You still can't remember, can you? You don't even remember your stepmother, or the accident,” Hans said slowly.

  She shook her head mutely and hiccuped a sob.

  She could remember her name now. She truly was Whitney Snow. And she remembered her stepmother, Queenie.

  She had been in a terrible accident, but no one was grieving for her. In fact, it was her family who had tried to kill her. Despite their strained relationship, she still regarded her stepmother as her family.

  She blinked hard but the walls seemed to be crashing down on her. She threw her hands out as her legs wobbled and collapsed.

  The world tilted and the floor rose to meet her. For once, she closed her eyes willingly and welcomed the blank, empty blackness. No wonder she couldn't remember anything. She hadn't wanted to remember.

  I don't want to die. She remembered thinking that.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Hans laid Whitney down on the bed and called Dr. Hunter. “Happy now?” He scowled at Derek.

  Derek shuffled his big feet and mumbled, “Sorry. I didn't think...”

  “You didn't think? You didn't think it would upset her? She wasn't ready, Derek. She almost died, for God's sake! If her mind isn't ready to remember, knowing the truth isn't going to help her! All she knows now is that her stepmother wants her dead. She can't go home and prove to everyone that she's alive but her mind is damaged. She'll lose her company! The company that was started by her grandmother. Whitney has no siblings. Whitney is the sole heir. She is the only one standing in her stepmother's way.”

  “You've been investigating her,” Derek said.

  “Yes I have,” Hans bit out. “I need to know who she really is. And who wants to hurt her.”

  “Why didn't you tell me?”

  Hans glared at his brother. “Tell you? You expect me to tell you when you can't keep your bloody mouth shut? Look what you did!”

  “If you'd t
old me, I would have kept it a secret,” Derek shot back. “Instead, you sneaked and sniffed around and refused to tell me the truth. You even kept the truth from Whitney! She has a right to know!”

  Hans balled his fist but kept his mouth shut. He was mad at his brother, but Derek was right. Whitney did have the right to know the truth. But he wanted to protect her and spare her the horror and the pain. She was still so weak, and he knew she needed more time for her mind and body to heal properly.

  Hans released a heavy sigh and glanced at Derek. He should have trusted his brother. Derek always had his back, and he would never betray him or anyone he cared about. “I guess I should talk to Jack as well,” he muttered.

  Derek nodded curtly. “We'll come up with a plan to help Whitney. She won't lose her company. We'll make sure of that.”

  Hans clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Go wait downstairs for Dr. Hunter, will you?”

  Derek nodded, and glanced towards the bed. “Tough,” he mumbled. “Imagine your family plotting to do you in.”

  “I harbor murderous intentions towards you all the time,” Hans deadpanned.

  Derek shrugged and strolled to the door. “I'll wait for Dr. Hunter downstairs. Maybe she'll wake up if you give her a kiss, Hans. You know, the magic of true love's kiss.” Derek puckered his lips and made a loud smoothing sound.

  Hans went and kicked his brother out the door literally. He closed the bedroom door firmly and went to Whitney's bedside. When he took her hand, she gasped and opened her eyes.

  “Hey,” Hans said gently. “Don't worry. Dr. Hunter will be here soon. Just...”

  “I'm okay, I'm fine.” She gulped and tried to sit up.

  “You just had a terrible shock. Just lie back down and rest.” When she refused to lie down, Hans propped some pillows up behind her to support her.

  “I'm sorry,” she said.

  “You've nothing to be sorry for.”

  “No.” She put up a hand. “I apologize...for being such a ninny.”

  “You're not...” Hans began.

  “I am!” Whitney said vehemently. “Your brother was right to tell me the truth. The truth might be ugly, but it is the bare, undeniable truth. And when I heard it, I fell to the floor in a dead faint. Imagine that! Fainting and swooning, like a bloody, boneless idiot!”

  “Whitney, you're still weak...”

  “Weak! Yes, that's what I am!” She laughed harshly. “No. Let me finish.” She put up a finger. “I guess falling to the floor and hitting my head did do me some good.” Her lips twisted in a humorless smile. “It knocked some sense into me and knocked some of my memories back out from where they've been hiding. I do remember, Hans. I don't remember everything yet. But I remember enough to know that you and your brother are telling me the truth.”

  She exhaled a shuddering breath and said, “I know my name is Whitney Snow. I know who I am. And I remember the past, the distant past. I remember my childhood, my grandmother and my father. I even remember working in the research department with my colleagues. What is missing from my memory is the chunk of events that happened just before and during my accident.”

  Hans nodded. He saw that her brown eyes were clear and sharp. She definitely was in possession of her faculties, and he saw the quiet strength and grim determination in those steely eyes.

  “What do you plan to do?” he asked. “My brothers and I will help you. We won't tell anyone else about you. You can trust us. Just tell me what you need.”

  She canted her head thoughtfully at him. “I do need something from you,” she said at last.

  “Anything, just name it and it's done.”

  Her whole face lit up. “Great! I need a job.”

  “A job?” he sputtered.

  “Yes. I'd like to work for you. No, no, not in your company. In your house. I'd like to be your housekeeper, Mr Grimm.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Hans locked his front door behind him and bellowed, “Honey, I'm home!” He had gone back to the office, but he made sure he came home early every day.

  He heard Whitney huff as she came out of the kitchen. “I'm not your Honey, Mr Grimm. I'm your housekeeper,” she pointed out.

  Hans chuckled. She looked really cute when she was annoyed.

  Hans glanced around his spotless house as he followed her into the kitchen. Whitney had surprised him. He'd thought that Whitney Snow, being the heir to a large, lucrative cosmetic empire, would be used to being waited on hand and foot, and wouldn't know the first thing about housekeeping. He had given her the job just to make her happy.

  Hans leaned against the kitchen door and watched her.

  Whitney really did seem happy working in his house. She cooked, cleaned, mopped and polished until every corner shone and sparkled. She wasn't just a spoiled, rich little heiress. She was a hard worker, and she was smart and capable.

  She downloaded recipes from the internet and she wasn't afraid of failure. The first time she tried to make lasagne, she burnt the whole dish. But by the third try, her lasagne was perfect.

  Hans didn't want too many people knowing about Whitney. Only his brothers, Jack and Derek, had come up to the house to meet her. They'd had dinner together, and Jack had asked Whitney to tell them more about the goings-on in her company.

  “My grandmother, Margaret White, founded Snow White Cosmetics. It started as a small company, but by the time my father took over, it had grown into a successful, million-dollar business. My father died soon after he married my stepmother. His will stipulated that all his shares in the company would pass to me when I turned thirty,” Whitney told them. “I'll be thirty in three months' time.”

  “So if you died before the age of thirty...” Jack prompted.

  “Everything would go to my stepmother.”

  “What a bitch,” Derek spat.

  “And if you die after you turn thirty, the shares would already belong to you,” Jack said.

  “Yes,” Whitney agreed. “Which means I can deal with then and dispose of them any way I want. I've already made provisions in my will. Upon my death, all my property, shares, monies, will be distributed equally among twenty charitable organizations of my choice.”

  “So your stepmother gets nothing.”

  “Unless I lose my mental capability and the board decides that I am unfit to continue running the company. Then my stepmother can take my place,” Whitney said somberly.

  “We're going to find evidence that your stepmother was behind the whole thing,” Hans said. “She won't get away with it. You didn't die, but she's still guilty of attempted murder.”

  “She never loved me. I know she despises me and detests me. But I never, ever thought that she would try and kill me,” Whitney said sadly. “My father truly loved her, you know. I would have let her stay on in the company. She would still have the power, a cushy position and a big fat salary.”

  “But she wouldn't be in control and she would be your subordinate,” Derek pointed out.

  “Does it matter? I've always shown her respect...”

  “It matters to her.”

  At that dinner, Whitney had told Hans and his brothers as much about herself and her background as she could, but it was clear that there were still things she couldn't remember.

  When Hans asked her if she could remember details of the accident, Whitney had winced and muttered just two words, “Magic Mirror.”

  “What?”

  “Magic Mirror. I saw a magic mirror,” Whitney had replied with a faraway look in her eyes.

  The three brothers had exchanged worried glances. If Whitney went back to the company in this state, her stepmother would surely seize upon this gap in her memory to prove to the Board of Directors that Whitney's mind and memory had been damaged irrevocably and she was in no mental state to run the company.

  Whitney needed more time. Hans had faith that Whitney would recover fully and remember everything. Physically, she was well and only a few sca
rs remained to remind her of her ordeal. It had been a month now, and he found out that Queenie Snow was trying to get Whitney's death certificate issued as soon as possible although investigations were still ongoing.

  Did Queenie Snow really believe that her stepdaughter was dead?

  Hans knew that his brothers would do everything in their power to protect Whitney. Jack had been making frequent trips from Redcape Grove to check on them. Jack had asked Whitney if she wanted to reveal herself and make a police report, but Whitney had been adamant that she wanted to stay hidden for a while more.

  “I can't even recall the accident. How am I going to tell the police what happened?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Hans continued watching Whitney as she pottered about the kitchen. He admired her tenacity and talent. She was very creative, and she could create amazing lotions and creams with plants and herbs she found in the kitchen and his garden.

  Hans had seen her mixing honey, herbs and essential oils in the kitchen to create an exquisite moisturizing lotion. She had scooped some into a jar and presented it to Jack.

  “Give this to your wife,” she'd told Jack excitedly. Jack had shown Whitney pictures of his mate, Rose and his newborn daughter. “It's good for her skin, and...if she has stretch marks from the birth, this will make them disappear in no time!”

  On Jack's next visit, he had brought a warm thank you note from Rose and a batch of homemade cookies. “Rose loves your lotion,” Jack said with a chuckle. “She and Nan are forever slathering it over themselves. Nan said that quite a few of her wrinkles have disappeared as well.” Nan was Rose's spunky and spirited great-grandmother. “Rose and Nan can't come to visit because the baby is still very young, but they promise to come soon. They're really excited to meet you!”

  Whitney turned from the stove and huffed, jolting Hans out of his reverie. Smiling sheepishly, Hans pushed away from the kitchen door and rolled up his sleeves. “I'll help you prepare dinner. Just tell me what to do,” he said.