The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake (Page 21)

She stopped in her tracks as she entered the foyer.

The person waiting there was Asher.

How? Why?

***

The look on Greer’s delicate, pointed face when she saw him was utter shock—followed by mutiny.

Yeah, this was going to go over like a lead balloon. He didn’t care. He could be the bad guy as long as he got results. Asher knew going into this that she wasn’t going to be happy to see him, less so once she figured out they’d be working in close proximity for the next month.

But Asher was successful in his line of work because he knew that nothing mattered except results. She could hate him for a week, maybe two, but he’d convince her that they were still friends.

As she strode toward him and her steps grew more angry, her expression more pinched, he amended that two weeks to possibly three. She looked pissed.

“What are you doing here?” She scanned the foyer, then pointed at the front door. “Get out. You aren’t welcome in this house.”

“Really?” He forced himself to put on a casual air. “Your father told me I was going to be working with you in lieu of him.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You’re the best man?” She practically spit the words at him. “You’re kidding. How is that even possible? You barely know him!”

Asher put a hand over his heart. “I’m truly touched at being asked, too.”

“This is a joke,” Greer muttered. She spun around on one foot and marched away. “It has to be a joke.”

He followed behind her, amused. She was like a small, angry kitten. It was adorable, really. Greer liked control—one reason she was so passionate about the weddings she coordinated—and he’d taken it from her. In her flat shoes, she seemed smaller than ever, but her figure was smoking hot in that plain dress, and he couldn’t help but stare at her tight, perky ass as she stormed away. Not for the first time, he mentally railed against the alcohol that had made him too drunk to appreciate fucking her. He’d just have to not drink the next time he touched her.

Because seeing her here? Seeing her spitting fire at him and her body rounded with his baby? It cemented in his mind that there’d absolutely be a next time. It might have taken him a while to realize it, but Greer Chadha-Janssen was his. It didn’t matter that she hated him now; he’d convince her to come back to him, and when he got her in his arms again, it’d be all the sweeter.

He followed her as she flung a door open and then made a noise of distress. Asher peeked in after her, seeing Janssen’s office. “Looking for someone?”

“I forgot my father’s gone for the day.” She cast him a baleful look. “It’s imperative that I talk to him and tell him that you absolutely, positively cannot be in the wedding.”

He caught her by her elbow. “Is it because I’m the father of your baby? He knows that.”

She whirled around and gasped. “You told him?”

Asher shrugged. “Why would I hide it? I’m not embarrassed. The only thing I’m embarrassed about is how I treated you that night. And I want to apologize. I made a mistake.” He put on his best woeful expression that had never failed to melt Donna’s heart.

“You made a mistake,” she echoed flatly. Instead of melting, Greer just looked angrier. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She was utterly gorgeous in her rage, so much so that he couldn’t stop staring at her. Her dark eyes sparkled with fire, and her fascinating face with its arching cheekbones seemed positively lit up with anger. Her thick, dark hair cascaded around her shoulders and her entire body seemed to crackle with intense fury. He’d never seen her like this. “Just one mistake, Asher? You made several.”

He did? That took him by surprise. “I know I was a bit of a fuckup that night—”

“Huge fuckup,” she bit out.

Okay, huge fuckup. “I wasn’t myself. I was drunk, and I wasn’t myself. I wouldn’t have taken advantage of a friend, not like that.”

Her glittering eyes narrowed. “You don’t even remember what you did, do you?”

Asher rubbed his mouth. “I know we made love—”

“No.” She cut him off before he could continue. “Making love involves two people having mutual pleasure and sharing feelings. What we did was not making love. It was you lying on top of me and shoving your . . . your . . . whiskey dick inside me!” She hissed the words and jabbed at him with an angry finger. “No condom! No nothing! Just two pumps and you were at the finish line.”

He flinched. Okay, that was low even for him, and he’d had a lot of low moments in the last two years. “That bad?”

“Yes! And then when you saw me again, you had the gall to ask if it was even yours?” Her small finger stabbed into his chest again. “Did you even stop to notice I was a virgin?”

Oh, god. This just got worse and worse. Looking down at her angry face, he felt . . . ashamed. He’d never even bothered to wonder if quiet, unnoticeable Greer had been a virgin that night or not. He’d just assumed when she didn’t point it out . . .

Well, fuck. “I didn’t know, Greer.”

“That much was obvious when you asked me if it was your baby. As if I’d leap off your terrible, limp dick right onto another?” She spat the words at him. “You knew me, Asher. You knew me all through college. We’ve met every week for the last few years. Did I ever date? Did I ever have a string of men waiting to go out with me?”

“You were waiting for me, weren’t you?” It hurt to say the words. Hurt his fucking goddamn black heart. He could have had such a good thing and he’d fucked it up.