Ruthless Heir (Ruthless Billionaires #5)

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Asher

My life is absolute hell.

I sink into my chair, set my coffee down and stare at the swirling patterns on the ceiling. I just need a moment to think before I dive into work.

I hate working weekends but I knew I’d have to go into the office today because I had to fit in all those dates during the week.

All those dates that were all for nothing.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s official. I, Asher Le Blanche, am a world-class idiot. I must be the one guy in this world with a host of women at his fucking beck and call who can’t pick one to marry.

Several friends of mine—and family members like Hunter—have had arranged marriages. Some of them never even met their wives prior to the wedding day. They were happy with photos. Heck, they were happy being betrothed before birth like I was.

But me…

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I was fine and ready to go along with this plan to find a wife with a no-holds-barred mindset. Then something happened.

What?

Was it really her ?

Harper.

I can’t even believe I’m going there. But in my line of work, when you’ve looked at all the variables that you think caused a problem and you still can’t find a solution, you start looking outside the box.

You look for the thing you least expected to throw a spanner in the works.

Harper is the answer that comes to my mind. I can’t actually think of anything else.

My mind started screwing with me that day I realized I was jealous of Jack.

I tried to push it out of my head. I even tried to deny it and lie to myself, but every time I saw Harper after that night the jealousy came back as I wondered if she’d been spending her time with him.

When she came to the office yesterday it was the weirdest thing seeing her in my work world. Deep down I even considered giving her the job because it meant I could keep an eye on her.

That uncontrollable demented feeling of jealousy mixed with possession made me think about the other thing I’ve had in the back of my mind to do with her. About when my arrangement to marry Portia was severed.

The first person I thought about was Harper. At the time she would have just come out of all the shit with Nick.

Because she was single and I was single, and I no longer had a marriage contract hanging over my head she stuck in my mind.

I think I fucked myself over from then. And it could be the reason I haven’t been myself in months . That could also explain my despondency about getting married.

I’m not as irresponsible as my behavior might imply when it comes to the company. You can’t exceed your limits one moment then fall off the path the next with no reason.

Shit . I can’t believe I’m sitting here entertaining this idea that Harper St. John is my problem when I know what’s at stake.

Marriage to Portia if I don’t find a woman on my own.

Marriage to Portia and the Fairchilds getting their greedy bastard hands on what I don’t want them to have.

I have four days—including today—to figure this out.

I straighten, grab the coffee and take a swig. It’s no longer as hot as I would like, so it tastes bitter.

I set it back down deciding not to have it, and Harper returns to my mind.

She’s going to want an answer about the job.

She’s not as qualified as I would like but she knows enough for the assistant post, which she would essentially perform alongside Layla. She also has one thing that no one else who has applied for the position has— my trust .

That answer she gave in her rendition of an interview was exactly what I would have wanted her to tell the press. She gave that answer because she knew I’d be okay with it.

So as it stands she’s perfect for the position. But now that I know she affects me it might not be the best idea to spend even more time with her. It’s hard enough having her in the house.

More importantly, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize my friendship with Josh.

I’ve always known that the one thing that would break us is if I crossed the line with his sister.

He’s been more like a father to her than a brother even though their eight-years age difference isn’t that significant.

Several incidents in the past made it clear Josh would be furious if I ever touched his sister. The most significant was when he gave me that warning, after he caught me looking at her as she got out of the pool at their old house.

She was seventeen, and I was twenty-five, so I knew I had no right.

He told me his sister could do better than a womanizer like me. But the worse thing he did was remind me of my bad breakup with Natalia, my high school ex.

He brought her up because she spiraled into drugs after I broke up with her. Then she killed herself eight months later on the same night she saw me with someone else at a party.

I never stopped blaming myself for her death, and neither did people like Josh.

He thought of me as the perpetual playboy who was biding time before the marriage contract kicked in. So, I understood why he warned me away from Harper, but he specifically said he didn’t want me to hurt her like I hurt Natalia.

Those words cut deep because I often wondered if Natalia would still be alive if I hadn’t gotten involved with her.

What Josh never knew was I always saw Harper as off-limits. She was his sister, and the one girl I knew I couldn’t pursue without destroying myself. The marriage contract stood as a barrier between us, even the night she tried to throw herself at me.

Now, there’s no contract. Only the sting of Josh’s warning haunting me.

“You really are here,” comes Layla’s voice from the door.

I look up and see her leaning against the doorframe, smiling back at me. The warmth in her eyes pulls me back from the dark memories of the past.

Dressed in a Aerosmith T-shirt and a pair of jeans, she looks quite the opposite to her usual professional business wear.

“What are you doing here?” I give her a little smile, although I feel mentally exhausted.

“Just catching up on some work for an hour or so. Luna and I are going to spend some time together later. It’s our mom’s birthday. Well, it was .” The sadness of grief fills her eyes.

Last year she and Luna went through one hell of an ordeal finding out the truth about how their mother died. In the same breath, they also discovered that their father wasn’t the man they thought he was.

It was the type of dark and gritty story you’d see in a horror movie. Sometimes I wonder how Layla can be so positive and strong given what she’s been through. It’s admirable.

“You shouldn’t be here, Layla. I would have understood if you needed more time to do your work.”

She walks in, pulls up a chair, and sits in front of me. “I know, but I imagined coming here on Monday and having all that work from last week flowing into the usual Monday morning load. Admittedly I also needed a distraction. This day is always hard. But this year it’s harder because we know what really happened to my mother.”

Not many people can make me feel sympathy, but she does. “Are you okay?”

She nods slowly. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. I have to be for Luna and I guess myself, too. I’m the big sister.”

“Doesn’t mean you always have to be strong.”

“I know, but I try. And I try to focus on good things, like Zack taking me away next weekend.” She smiles and the radiance comes back to her eyes. “It’s my first away trip with him so I’m looking forward to that.”

“That’s good. You two are getting very close.”

“It looks that way. Also, pot calling the kettle black.” She throws me an accusatory stare. “You’re telling me I shouldn’t be here when you’re here .”

“I have to be here.”

“No, you don’t. I know where you could be, but I won’t say.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I narrow my eyes at her.

“Nothing at all.” She smirks.

I have a feeling she’s talking about Harper. Or rather not talking but hinting. Harper’s little meeting stirred trouble for me.

“Layla.” I shake my head at her.

“Anyway, I knew you’d be here so I thought I’d check in on you. Especially because you’ll be seeing Alexis tomorrow. I’m rooting for her but I’m biased because she’s my friend. Do you have a list of the final contestants yet?”

I sit back and allow my body to sink into the soft leather. “I got nothing.”

Her eyes widen. “Nothing at all? You’ve been on eighteen dates with gorgeous women and?—”

“I know. I haven’t selected anyone. Not one of them appealed to me.”

“What the hell happened? They couldn’t have all been bad. Okay, the lawyer was something else. But the others would have been fine.” She actually looks shocked.

“They were fine. I just can’t see myself getting married to any of them. Maybe if it was just for a short time I could do it, but it’s not, so it’s a bigger deal.”

“ Soooo, Portia then …” Layla makes a show of biting the inside of her lip in an exaggerated way.

“Don’t even mention that woman’s name to me.” My shoulders drop.

“But if you don’t have anyone else lined up, your father is going to make you marry her.”

“Yes . I know . Fuck… I need more time, Layla. My head isn’t in the right place and this isn’t the kind of thing you can settle on in two weeks. And yes, I know I had months before. I guess my head wasn’t in the right place then either.”

She bites the inside of her lip again and gazes at me with curiosity dancing in her eyes. “I have an idea but you’re going to hate it and probably hate me, too. Just remember there’s a reason you hired me and it wasn’t for my good looks.”

I smirk when she laughs and lean forward, placing my elbows on my desk. “What’s this idea of yours?”

“Harper.”

Here we go. I knew this was coming. “What about her?”

“I didn’t know she was staying with you.”

“Who told you?”

“I was eavesdropping and heard you and Hunter on the phone.”

“Okay, fine. What does Harper have to do with your idea?”

“First of all, I think you should hire Harper for the PR role. She has your trust. Realistically, that’s all you need. Secondly, because she has your trust, I think you should pick her for a temporary solution to your wife problem.”

My blood stills in my veins. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean fake date.”

I clench my jaw and glare at her. “ Layla …”

“Just listen to me. Your father just needs a name, right?”

“That is correct.”

“He also said that you would have three months to date but if things went wrong you could find someone else within the same time frame. What if Harper could buy you that time?”

My God …

Why am I considering this?

Because it’s a fucking good idea. But I can’t do it. It would cross the line I’ve tried so hard to keep up and… tempt me.

Josh would also skin me alive. It would be a disaster.

“No. I can’t do it.” My voice sounds fragile, like glass about to shatter.

“Asher. You need to think about it. For a start, she would be perfect for several reasons.”

“Name one reason, Layla.”

“Did you see your father’s face yesterday? I don’t know if you realized that he thought she was one of your potentials.”

“Yes, I did.” Of course I knew that. When we met later in the evening my father wouldn’t stop talking about her. It was like he was trying to sell me the idea of her.

“There you go. Who better to pick than a woman he adores? He even hugged her. Your father does not hug.”

“My parents have always adored her.”

“Great, but what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You like her.” She gives me a sincere smile. The kind that stops me from telling her she’s wrong.

“She’s my best friend's little sister. Of course I like her.”

“You know what I mean, Asher. You like her like her. I saw the way you looked at her. In any event, even if you don’t want to go that way, I feel like she would be perfect to help you in the interim.”

“Josh would kill me.”

“From all the way over yonder deep in the sea? Come on now, Asher. The man is in a submarine. He won’t know.”

“But the press. They’ll run wild with a story about me dating.”

“The press, my ass. Of course they’re going to run wild with the story. They always do.”

“What would I say to Josh?”

“Josh is away for nine months. He left his sister with you, the guy who’s always in the press for one thing or another. All you have to say if he sees any of the articles is that the press were being the press. By then you’d be married and you wouldn’t have to care. The stories would be old news.”

Jesus… she is good. “Layla, that’s a really good idea but I … this is a tough one for me. It’s not that simple.” I don’t know if I can cross that line even if it is fake.

“Think about it. Go on your date with Alexis tomorrow. Of course I’m still rooting for her, but this idea is better. It means you don’t have to rush.”

“Okay. I’ll think about it.” Although I say that, I know my answer.

There’s no point complicating things that are already complicated.

Still, I can’t deny that the idea is top notch. If only Harper were someone else.

Layla smiles and stands. “That’s my good deed for the day done.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m gonna hit the office. I’ll see you later.”

“Sure. Don’t work too hard.”

“And you, boss man.”

When she leaves her idea floats around in my head like a ghost haunting and tempting me in equal parts.

The thing that worries me is how badly I want to do it.

I get back from my date feeling more conflicted than ever.

Tonight’s date was with Lucia, a pianist from Michigan who’s just moved to New York.

She was nice but would have been a no-go because we had way too many awkward silences. It was clear within the first half hour that we couldn’t even talk to each other.

I can’t remember the last time I had a date like that. Maybe junior high.

I tried to make an extra effort tonight, so I know the problem wasn’t me. I also stayed for the entire dinner and a movie.

At dinner I thought of every topic we could talk about and even initiated the conversation. Things like her hobbies, her career, her future plans. All she gave was one-sentence answers and never asked about me.

The only good thing about tonight was the movie. We saw the latest Mission Impossible.

I’m worried about tomorrow. Tomorrow will be my last date and I’m screwed if I come home feeling like this.

I head to the kitchen to get a beer but notice that someone is in there.

It’s nearly one in the morning. The only person I can think it could be is Harper. You’d never catch any of my staff in the kitchen at this hour. Not even for a late-night snack.

My stomach squeezes at the thought of seeing Harper, and Layla’s plan resurfaces in my mind.

I should avoid her for a little longer, if only until after tomorrow’s date, but against my better judgment I keep going. Because I want to see her.

Seeing her feels like some small compensation for the shitty, waste-of-time evening I had.

When I walk into the kitchen I find Harper sitting on one of the bar stools at the island and all the blood rushes to my dick when I see what she’s wearing.

A blue bikini top barely holds in her massive breasts and a towel is wrapped around her bottom half, but I can see the smooth golden skin of her stomach with the little metal bar in her navel. That’s new. I didn’t know she had a piercing there.

My fucking mind short-circuits and I curse myself for coming in here.

It’s only after I perform a full scan of her body that I notice her hair is wet and pulled back into a ponytail. She was reading a thick encyclopedic book until I walked in. But did she go swimming?

Harper gazes at me and smiles. “Hey, there.”

“Hello yourself. What are you doing up at this hour dressed like that?”

“Well, according to this book, if you swim in the sea after midnight on a full moon it brings you good luck.”

I glare back at her, wondering if she’s screwing with me. “Did you seriously go swimming in the sea at this hour?”

“Yeah.” She giggles. “It’s actually quite refreshing. You should try it.”

And she thinks she doesn’t purposely go looking for trouble?

She is going to be the death of me. If she keeps on like this I’ll have a full head of gray hair by Christmas. Between the craziness and the constant arousal it’s going to do me in.

“Why do you need luck? Can’t you just buy a rabbit foot like everyone else? Or a horseshoe?”

She looks more serious, as if she’s going to tell me something important. “I think I’m going to need a little more than that to get the PR job.”

I intensify my stare. “You did that for the job?”

“I did. Now I just have to see if it worked.” She gives me a coy smile and lifts her shoulders into a sassy shrug.

I breathe out a haggard sigh, feeling as worn as the air expelling from my lungs. After talking to Layla earlier I thought about the job a little more and decided to give Harper a chance. It would be silly not to. I also thought it would be selfish to stop her from getting a job simply because I was worried about seeing her at work.

“You can have the job.”

Her face brightens instantly and her eyes become more alive with hope. “Oh my gosh! Thank you so much. I swear I won’t let you down. When can I start?”

“Come by the office Thursday and Layla will walk you through everything.”

“Thank you and wow, I’m going to be working at Le Blanche Global.”

I smile back at her. “Looks that way. And now you have a job does that help solve some of your worries?”

She looks serious again but nods. “It does. It means I can… get my own place soon.”

My heartbeat slows and something inside me twists from the thought of her leaving. “We agreed you could stay.”

“Yes, but I can’t exactly stick around if you’re getting married.”

One thing about Harper, she’s not the kind to beat around the bush when she either wants something or finds out a secret. I guess it’s not really a secret, though.

“I heard you on the phone last night,” she explains. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Because I don’t even know who I’m getting married to yet. “There was a lot going on. I wanted you to settle in first. I also didn’t want you to feel like this—like you had to move out.” Nice save, Asher. Thank God my mind never fails me.

“I understand but you still should have told me. Am I the reason your fiancée hasn’t been by to see you? And I guess that’s why Olga used to look at me like I was here to cause trouble.”

“No, you’re not the reason my fiancée hasn’t been here.” It feels so weird and wrong saying that word. Probably because I’m lying. “And Olga is always like that. She just takes some getting used to.”

Shit, this is a fucking disaster. Harper thinks I have an actual fiancée, my father thinks Harper would be a great option for a potential wife, and Layla wants me to fake date Harper. How did things get more complicated than they already were?

“I’m glad I’m not the reason. I would have felt worse for the upheaval I’ve caused in your life. But… I’m happy for you. Congratulations.” Although she smiles her eyes carry a wealth of dullness and regret.

I want to say something—even thanks—but all I can do is stare at her as everything rushes back to me.

I think of all the years I’ve known her and that disastrous night when I nearly lost her. That night I rejected what I desperately wanted— her.

Now, like some cruel twist of fate, she’s here congratulating me because she thinks I’m getting married. And she can’t remember how she feels about me.

“Thanks.” I finally speak. Saying thanks is the best thing I can think of because it’s what you say when someone congratulates you.

It’s also best that I don’t make her any the wiser that I don’t have a fiancée so that when I do get one, I won’t have to give any unnecessary explanations.

Harper gives me a small smile, picks up her book and walks around to me. Then she stands on the tips of her toes and plants a little kiss on my cheek.

The simple, sincere kiss sends a shiver through my hard exterior and is the most emotive thing I’ve felt in years. The last time I felt anything close was that night I rejected her. And back then she never even touched me.

Instinctively I reach out and cup the side of her face, allowing myself the few seconds to feel her. Feel her smooth silky skin beneath my fingertips.

Our eyes lock for a moment and I immerse myself in that moment, pretending that there is no Josh to worry about and she’s not just my best friend’s sister, or even his little sister. She’s just Harper.

Zany Harper, who can sweep you out of this world with her musical talent one moment, then drive you batshit crazy with her insane antics the next.

“Good night, Asher.” Her voice breaks the spell and I drop my hand to my side, checking myself.

“Good night, Harper.” I drag in a slow breath, my gaze still riveted to hers.

She steps away, dipping her head, then I watch her go. I stare after her like always. Except this time I feel worse than ever, and numb.

Because I’m the one who’s stirring trouble.

I still want her.

I never stopped.