“We can’t change what happened, Asher.” She hadn’t thawed an inch. One of the waitstaff moved nearby with an enormous cake, and she delicately sidestepped on the path to allow them more room. As she did, the long hem of her skirt got caught in a nearby bush and pulled taut against her body, outlining a slightly rounded stomach.
Asher’s eyes widened as realization struck him. “Greer . . . are you pregnant?”
She bit her lip and averted her gaze.
Oh fuck. She was pregnant.
“Is it . . . Is it mine?”
She looked back up again. Her eyes narrowed. She crooked her finger at him, indicating he should lean down. He did—
—And she delivered a ringing slap to his face.
“Go fuck yourself, Asher. I never want to see you again.” And she stormed away into the house.
Asher rubbed his jaw and watched her leave, shocked. He supposed he deserved that. Once again, his idiot mouth had run away with him. Of course it was his. Greer had never dated in all the time he’d known her. She’d been content to sit on the sidelines, as if waiting for something.
Or someone.
She’s carried a torch for you since, like, grade school.
Well, it was clear she no longer carried a torch for him. It had turned to a brand of flaming hate. Just when he’d seen her—really, really seen her—and wanted more than friendship from her, he’d gone and fucked it up.
And now Greer was pregnant with his child.
All right, then. He needed to fix this. He could fix this. Asher rubbed his stinging jaw and grinned, oblivious to the strange looks that the passing waitstaff gave him. Greer had loved him for years. Three months of hate couldn’t undo years of longing. He’d just have to make things better. He’d have to show her that he was an idiot—though he’d done a pretty good job of that tonight, really—and win her back.
Winning her back would be the tricky part. He’d have to be around her, and for longer than a brief moment, so his brain could stop short-circuiting at the thought of her breasts and he could actually hold a decent conversation with her. Greer herself would make that difficult, though. She never wanted to see him again, and she’d successfully avoided him for the last three months. All right, then. He’d have to somehow maneuver her into a situation in which she couldn’t avoid him. As he walked back to the party and rejoined the crowd, his brain worked furiously.
When his gaze landed on Stijn again, surrounded by his three matched beauties, the perfect solution hit him.
***
The next morning, bright and early, Asher returned to the Janssen castle to meet with Stijn, and he brought his checkbook.
Greer’s father met him in his study, a surprisingly modern and opulent room given the bizarre medieval look of the rest of the house. “I’m glad you came today,” Stijn said, greeting him with an insincere smile and a handshake.
“Very much so,” Asher lied as the man led him into the room and they both sat. “How’s your daughter today?”
For a moment, Stijn’s expression grew puzzled. “As far as I know, she is fine. Why do you ask?”
“Because she’s pregnant with my child.”
Stijn didn’t pause. He opened a box on his desk and pulled out a cigar, then snipped the end off of it. “Forgive me, Mr. Sutton, but I thought you were coming here today to talk about financials.”
Cold bastard. “I’m getting there.” He relaxed in his chair. “Your company’s in trouble, isn’t it?”
Stijn lit the cigar and took a puff before answering. “Anyone can look at our quarterly reports and see that profit margins have been growing narrower over time. I’m afraid with the Internet, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to compete with free porn websites.”
“I’m prepared to purchase an extremely large share of stock in Dutchman,” Asher said bluntly. “As much as it takes to gain control of the company.”
Stijn froze. He studied Asher for a moment, then placed the cigar in an ashtray. “Go on.”
“I’m willing to pump money into your company to keep it afloat. Whatever you need. My company’s worth billions now and increasing more every day. I can help you turn things around. I’ve got the capital to do so.”
“That is very generous of you. And what do you want from me?”
“I want you to get married.”
His eyebrows went up, and his expression reminded Asher of Greer. “You what?” Stijn repeated.
“I want you to get married,” Asher said again.
“I’ve never married.”
“Now’s a great time then, don’t you think?”
“I have three girlfriends. Triplets.” He put a finger to his ashtray, nudging it idly. “How am I supposed to choose between them?”
“I don’t know and don’t care. Make it a contest. Put it in your magazine. Whatever floats your boat. I don’t care if you marry the family dog. I just want your daughter to plan the wedding.”
“I see.”
“I just have one condition.”
“It seems you have many conditions. What else can you possibly want?”
“I want to be your best man.”
A shrewd smile crossed Stijn’s face. “Now, I am starting to understand.”
“I thought you might.”
Chapter 4
G-Force: Guess who I saw at my father’s party last night?
Tay: Who???
G-Force: Asher!
Tay: OMG NO, GREER. JUST NO.
G-Force: Yes. That jerk.
Tay: Did he look like hell? Did you want to slap the shit out of him?