“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.”
Chapter 6
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.”