The Billionaire’s Favorite Mistake (Page 30)

“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.