The Billionaire's Favourite Mistake: Billionaires and Bridesmaids 4 (10 page)

“I’ll spank him,” Bunni cooed. She gave Asher a lascivious wink as he got to his feet. “You just tell me where you want it.”

“In the study, please,” Greer barked and pointed at a nearby door. She then pointed at the women. “You three stay here and come up with which theme you want. We’ll talk about it more when Mr. Sutton and I get back.”

One of the girls gave her a quick salute, as if Greer were a drill sergeant. Greer ignored that and marched into the adjoining study. She held the door open until Asher sauntered in, and then closed it firmly behind him.

They needed to talk. Greer turned, leaning against the doors, her hands still on the handles so she wouldn’t inadvertently reach out and choke the man. “What do you think you’re doing?” she whispered at him.

He leaned in. “I’m
helping
.” And the bastard grinned at her.

“You’re making it worse! You’re supposed to be here to help me out, not to turn this into a three-ring circus.”

“Are you kidding me?” Asher crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “Your father has turned marrying those poor girls into a game. They’re the laughingstock of every tabloid in the nation at the moment, or haven’t you been paying attention?”

She glared at him and stepped away from the door. Actually, she’d seen a few articles on the upcoming wedding that were downright unkind, and she’d stopped reading after that. “Don’t talk so loud, they’ll hear.”

“You think they don’t know that people are going to make fun of them? You think they’re not stressed out over this?” Asher shook his head slightly. “If anything, you should be mad at your father for taking what should be a wedding and making it a pure publicity stunt. He’s not going to come out of this any worse for the wear, but those three are going to be labeled as gold diggers for the rest of their lives. I think if they want a few stupid unicorns on the day that they might potentially marry your father—and the odds are one in three at the moment, unless something changes—then they have every right.”

Greer glared at him, feeling helpless. He wasn’t wrong about the situation, and that made her feel worse. Was her father making this a joke? Yes. Could he be dissuaded? No. “That’s why it’s so important for the wedding to be classy and beautiful, Asher. It needs to be something that everyone can look at and realize that however it seems on the outside, we took it seriously. They’re nice girls. They deserve to have a wedding they can be proud of—”

“No matter who the groom is?” He arched an eyebrow at her.

“I’m not going to discuss my father right now.” Though really, he wasn’t saying anything she hadn’t thought herself. She clasped her hands in front of her. “But this is why it’s so important that I have your help to keep things going. We need to think classic and elegant, since we’re already in a time crunch. I don’t need you filling their ears with ideas about unicorns and flying doves—”

“I never said anything about doves.” He took a step closer to her, smiling.

She hated that his smile made her feel weak in the knees. After this, she was totally taking that six-month sabbatical to get over him. She’d need it after being in close proximity for a month. “I need your help,” she repeated. “Please, please help me keep them on track.”

Asher leaned in closer. “Wanna make a bargain?”

Her brows drew together. “A bargain?”

“Yep. You want my help with the wedding. I want your help with something. We both get what we want. Seems simple to me.”

There was a calculating look in those bright blue eyes that she didn’t trust. “This sounds like a trap.”

“It’s not a trap, I promise. You want help with the wedding, don’t you?”

“I do,” she ventured, still skeptical. She knew Asher, and she knew he was up to something. “What do you want from me?”

He leaned in, ever closer. So close that, for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. And then she mentally berated herself because of course he wasn’t . . .

. . . and she hadn’t pulled away, either, had she?

“I need,” he began slowly, “your help with . . . seduction.”

She must have heard that wrong. “Beg pardon?”

“I want you to help me with my seduction techniques.”

It was the perfect plan.

It was completely and utterly ridiculous, of course. Demanding that a woman practice dating and seduction with him when he knew he was already perfectly good at it? It was ludicrous. But then again, so was the wedding that Greer was desperately trying to pull together.

At least he had her full attention now.

He watched as her jaw dropped and she stared at him, aghast. “You want me to
what
?”

When he’d come up with the plan last night, he hadn’t quite imagined her sounding so very horrified. Damn. He’d been worse at drunk sex than he’d thought for her to recoil like that. No matter. He’d chosen his path. She already hated him, so it wasn’t as if he was losing anything. Right now, Asher was swinging for the fences. “I’ll help you herd those three and keep Stijn’s end on track provided that you help me out with my big problem. I want you to help me get better at wooing women.” When she stared at him, he added, “You did tell me I was terrible at it. I took your words to heart.”

Her mouth worked silently. After a moment, she squeaked out, “Me?”

“Of course, you.”
You’re gorgeous and I want better memories than a drunken fumble. I want you to love me again. I want you back so we can experience everything we should have had before when I was too dumb and blind to see it.
“You’re perfect for this.”

“Why am
I
perfect for this?”

“Well, for starters, you have exceedingly low expectations. So you’ll be able to tell me when I improve. That’s important. Also, I can’t get you pregnant.”
And I can’t wait to touch you.

Her mouth shut and her jaw clenched. Her nostrils flared, and he could tell she was about to explode. That was okay. He’d kind of expected that. “You want to blackmail me into having
sex
with you? After what happened last time?”

“You’re shouting,” he murmured, calm. “And we don’t have to have sex. We can just work on seduction. Kissing. Coaxing a woman. Things like that.”

Her eyes widened and she stared in horror at the double doors to the room. Her gaze flicked back to him and she lowered her voice. “Are you the world’s biggest idiot, Asher?”

“I’m an optimist, actually. The way I see it, we both need something. You can help me practice, and I can help you put together the wedding. Think of how much easier it’ll be if I can get Tiffany—”

“Tiffi.” she corrected.

God, whatever.
“—Tiffi off of her unicorn kick. You want them to choose flowers? I’ll lobby for roses. You want simple? I’ll suggest everything that’s as basic and simple as possible and play it up so it seems like a genius concept. You’ll make this ridiculous wedding seem like a masterpiece.”

A look of disgust crossed her face. “But I’ll have to let you touch me again.”

Jesus, she sounded really revolted at the thought. Did he think she’d deflated his ego before? She was taking the remnants of it and grinding it under one of her ballet flats. “That is the catch, yes.”

“You must be crazy.”

Just desperate to have you back.
“Is that a no?”

She sputtered. “It’s most definitely a no!”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Greer shook her head at him, as if utterly astonished at his request. Did she not realize how desperate he was to get her back? To make her realize that she could love him again? He watched, full of longing, as she opened the doors and marched out of the room, her back stiff.

All right, then. He’d let things play out as he thought they would.

Asher followed after her and returned to his seat between two of the women. They were all so similar that he had a hard time keeping them straight in his head, and he’d be damned if he could remember their names. They were nice girls, and beautiful in an overly processed sort of way, but they were . . . generic. His tastes had gone more to dark eyes, dark hair, and a small mouth that was even now frowning fiercely at him.

“Now,” Greer said as she picked up her paper again, smoothing her hair. “Where were we?”

“Talking about themes,” one of the girls said. “I think we should have Justin Bieber sing our wedding song.”

“I don’t think,” Greer began delicately, “that Mr. Bieber will find the time in his schedule to sing for you.”

“He could write it, too,” Blue girl said. “I’m sure he writes several songs a day.”

“Like I said,” Greer began again. “At this late a date—”

“I know!” The pink girl clapped her hands excitedly. “Doves! We can release doves when we come in!”

Greer’s eyes went wide. She shot him a startled look.

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, trying not to smile. Hell, he hadn’t even had to say the word
doves
aloud. This was almost too easy.

Blue girl squealed. “Oh my god. Doves are an amazing idea.”

“I am positive that horses and doves are
not
the way to go,” Greer stressed.

Pink girl ignored Greer, turning to her sisters. “All those in favor of doves raise your hands?”

Blue girl’s hand shot up. The other remained down. They all turned and looked at him. “You’re the tiebreaker,” said one triplet. “What—”

Greer shot to her feet. “Asher! I need to talk to you again in private.
Now
.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, oh-so-casual. Inside, he was gleeful. He was getting somewhere now. Good. He whistled as he sauntered back into the study after her.

The moment she slammed the doors behind him, she whirled and smacked his arm. “Do not say doves! Not under
any
circumstances!”

It took everything Asher had to not break into a grin. “Does this mean you want to take my deal?”

“No! I don’t want to sleep with you!”

“You don’t right now,” he agreed. “But just imagine how much better it’ll be once I improve?”

“You’re impossible.”

“I am. And this wedding will be impossible unless we work together.”

For a moment, Greer looked as if she were about to cry. “This is blackmail. You know that, right?”

“I didn’t say anything about doves and you know it. But the thing is, those girls aren’t listening to you. They’re walking all over you and you’re letting them. You want my help? I’ll offer it, but you know my price.” When she didn’t look convinced, he changed his voice to coaxing. “Come on, Greer. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

“If all you wanted was a back scratch, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” she said glumly.

Asher grinned. He smelled success. She wasn’t glaring at him any longer. If anything, she just looked frustrated. Maybe a little defeated. That meant she was considering his offer. “Look,” he said, and modulated his tone to the one he used in board meetings to ensure everyone saw things his way. “Helping me out won’t interfere with your work on the wedding. We can meet in private somewhere. We can do this quietly. And we can take it in baby steps. One week, we can practice kissing. The next week, we can move on to foreplay since apparently that was bad.”

“Not just bad, but nonexistent,” she corrected.

“Nonexistent,” he agreed. She was wrong, but he’d let her believe he was so damn terrible at touching a woman that he didn’t know the first thing about foreplay. “After that, we move on to the bigger stuff. By the time the wedding hits, it’ll be a beautiful, low-key success story, and I’ll have some pointers on how to please a woman.”

She hesitated, her gaze on the double doors off to the side, as if weighing her options. He tried to imagine what she was thinking—a wedding full of fake unicorns, doves, and whatever madness the triplets could think of? Or a few weeks of letting him fumble at her again? The fact that she was hesitating for so long was a bit of a blow to his ego, but he ignored it. Once he had Greer in his arms and she was no longer fighting him and declaring her hate for him, she’d change her tune.

“I need more incentive than just you spouting off logical things in the wedding-planning meetings,” Greer said suddenly, turning to him.

“What do you mean?” She wanted something else from him?

“I want an agreement between us, drafted by lawyers so it’s ironclad, that you’ll give up any and all rights to the baby if I agree to this.”

Asher’s entire body went cold. Give up any claim on his child? Like hell he would. If he did, he’d never see her—or the baby—ever again. It was a gut feeling, and it hurt, because she was still thinking about how quickly she could get him out of her life.

And here he was thinking about how to keep her in his, forever.

He swallowed hard. “Why do you want that?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Asher?” She gave a small, tired sigh. “You never wanted this child, or me. It’s not fair to force a child on someone who wants nothing to do with them. I don’t need your money. I don’t want child support. I just want to be left alone once this is done.”

As she spoke, his mind raced. All right. He could fix this. He could give her what she wanted, and still manage to come out on top. He’d bring in his best lawyer and add a loophole or a codicil of some kind that would give him an out, and he’d just have to throw enough money at her lawyer that he’d overlook whatever out-clause Asher added to ensure that he could still have control of the situation. There was no way he was going to give up any claim to Greer and the baby.

He wanted them too fucking much. It gutted him to even consider agreeing.

But he needed Greer, and this was his Hail Mary pass. If he couldn’t get her to agree to this, he didn’t know what he could do to bring her back to him. To get them back to rights. So he swallowed hard and nodded. “Fine. It’ll be as you want.”

Was that a flicker of disappointment in her expression? She masked it quickly with a firm nod and then stuck her hand out. “I suppose we have a deal, then.”

“I suppose we do.”

And he had some strings to pull on the flip side. But for now? He’d just gotten Greer to agree to let him woo her. It was a start.

She lifted her glasses and rubbed her nose, as if trying to ease an oncoming headache. “I can’t believe I just agreed to this.”

“It’ll be beneficial for both of us,” he soothed, and pulled out his phone. “So, what time should we set up tonight for our first kissing lesson?”

“Tonight?” Her glasses dropped back into place and she looked startled. “We’re starting tonight?”

“We’ve only got a month, Greer, and I think we’ll both agree that I need all the help I can get,” he lied. “So it’s best that we start right away.”

***

Greer felt as if she’d just made a deal with the devil.

She studied her reflection in the mirror, oddly nervous. A short time from now, she was scheduled to meet with Asher at his hotel room so they could go over his first kissing lesson.

Kissing. She was going to teach the man kissing. As if she were the expert? It was to laugh. Except . . . she didn’t feel like laughing. She felt like panicking. She’d agreed to help him get better at seduction? Why did this feel like she was returning back to the lion’s den? She didn’t want anything to do with him, especially not in a sexual manner. Last time, it was frankly, terrible. It was disappointing and sticky and she’d gotten nothing out of it except a lot of broken dreams.

Oh, and a pregnancy. Couldn’t forget that.

Her hands nervously went to her stomach, where she felt a tiny flutter inside. She didn’t know if that was the baby or her nerves. Could be both. More than anything, she wanted to back out. The thought of spending a month with Asher practicing kissing on her was . . . upsetting. Like getting scheduled for a month of dentist appointments.

But what he’d dangled in front of her had been too tempting to resist.

It wasn’t just the help with the wedding—though, god, that had been a blessing after all. Once Asher had decided to stop making things worse, they’d quickly settled into a theme all of them could agree on: fairy tales. There would be a horse-drawn carriage to bring the brides up to the ceremony (since Tiffi desperately wanted a horse involved) and they would use glass slippers as decor and do some fun nods to other subtle fairy tale ideas. The girls had decided to go with their regular colors of pink, blue, and purple highlights along with bridal white. Now she had a game plan and could charge forward with place settings and colors for napkins and tablecloths and the like.

More than anything, the wedding would be classy, sweet, and
easy
. No doves. No horses (other than the carriage, which she could deal with). No costumes for guests and no one sitting in the pool. And true to his word, Asher had helped her rein in the others when their ideas got too crazy.

Now she had to hold up her end of the bargain. He’d done his part to help bring the wedding together, and her lawyer was scheduled to call his lawyer in the morning to discuss the paperwork about abdicating his parental rights, and so now, well, she supposed she had a date to make out with the guy to help him practice his seduction.

She ran a brush through her hair and considered whether she should put on some makeup or nicer clothing. Then she scowled at her reflection. What was she thinking? This was Asher. Asher the jerk. It’d serve him right if she ate a fistful of onions before showing up.

But because she was a nervous nelly, she brushed her teeth anyhow, then packed up her purse and the folder of printouts she’d made and drove her rental over to his hotel. He was staying at the Cromwell, which was exclusive but not so exclusive that she’d feel weird about showing up. Once her car was taken care of, she sent him a text so he could meet her in the lobby. And then she waited, clutching her folder, feeling like an idiot and a bit of a harlot at the same time.

She gave herself a pep talk while she waited.
This will be harmless. You can just tell him about how kissing should be for the woman. You can explain how a girl wants to be touched by a man. Give him some pamphlets, chat about what he should consider changing in his “technique” and then skip out. Zero emotions need to be involved. None. This is just a mutual scratching of backs.
By the time she was finished, she felt better, calmer. One month of meaningless makeout sessions, coming right up.