The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake (Page 29)

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?