Page 18 of My Not So Wicked Boss (My Not So Wicked 3)

He waved away my condolences, not wanting to dwell on it.

I didn’t press the issue further. “How did he find out about you then?” I hesitated to ask given his agitated state. It was apparent he didn’t think too highly of his father.

“Mum,” he sighed. “She always wanted what was best for me. We always managed to scrape by, but she said that wasn’t the life I was intended to lead. It was her wish that I attend Oxford and live my dream of becoming a writer. She made that happen,” he lowered his voice, “by telling my father the truth.”

“How did that go over?”

He laughed sardonically. “Not well, as you can imagine.”

I lowered my head. I could imagine all too well. Leland blamed the pregnancy on me. I broke up with him that night. If only I’d had the good sense to keep it that way. But no, he came crawling back with a tiny diamond ring begging me to marry him. I was so foolish and afraid. I wondered who would ever love me once I had a baby. Then, not even my own husband did. I promised myself after Leland left for the last time I would never think so little of myself again.

“Did he blame her?” I asked quietly.

“For keeping me from him, yes.”

My head tilted up, surprised by his response. “He wanted you?”

Miles shrugged, looking off into the distance. “Perhaps, but he disliked the inconvenience of a,” he lowered his voice, “bastard son. His wife, Imogen, was none too pleased.”

“Did they divorce?”

He barked out a laugh. “No darling, my father’s title and wealth were worth staying in a bloody loveless marriage. She was more put out that he hadn’t done a better job of keeping his philandering ways a secret.”

“So she knew the entire time he was unfaithful?”

“Of course she did.”

I hated being so nosy, but I was intrigued. “If she knew he was cheating and didn’t care, why did your father tell her about you?”

Miles let out a slow breath. “I’m not sure, perhaps for spite. He claimed to have loved my mother and was devastated when she disappeared. He always suspected that Imogen had driven her away.”

I stared down at Henry, trying to make sense of Miles’s sad tale, but I don’t think there was any sense to be had out of it.

“You are wondering why my father stayed, are you not?”

It bothered me that he could read me so well. I looked up and found him peering at me as if he too were concerned with how well he could read me. But his concern was quickly replaced with a warm smile.

“I am curious,” I admitted.

“Tradition and unwritten societal rules keep my father and Imogen miserably together. It is one of the reasons why Sophie sought out the American.”

“Did she love him?” fell out of my mouth.

“Very much. Kevin showed her a way of life she never knew. I hate that they both perished, but it was merciful they went together.” He clapped his hands and gave me a pointed look. “You are probably wondering why I’m sharing all this with you. I have good reasons for doing so. First, you need to know that as much as my siblings Amelia and Charles, and even their dear mother, Imogen, have made their arguments that they are better suited to raise young Henry, my father, for all his faults, has silenced them on the issue. Henry is to remain in my care as Sophie and Kevin wished.”

That was a relief if I decided to take this job. But what came out of his mouth next left me unsettled.

Miles leaned back and gripped the table all while tenderly looking at me holding his sweet nephew. “Aspen,” he whispered my name as if he wanted to keep it a secret for only himself just like I had imagined him doing many times in my dreams. It made me hold my breath, waiting to see if he would lean in next. When he did, I bit my lip. It drew his attention toward my mouth. I could almost feel this thumb gliding across my lower lip. He raised his hand almost as if he was imaging the same thing, but his hand dropped, and he steeled himself. “Aspen,” he spoke again, this time in less hushed tones. “I must admit you are fetching, very fetching, indeed.”

I swallowed hard and blinked an inordinate amount of times. Normally, I would have stopped him right there and told him I wasn’t interested, but the words never came. More disconcerting was there would have been no truth in them had they been spoken.

“If circumstances were different, I would have invited you to dinner for strictly personal reasons, but . . .” he forced himself to say, “I need to think about someone else for a change, like Sophie reminded me. I must think about Henry.” He sat up straight as a pin. “If you agree to work for me, I promise you we will have a purely business relationship. For the sake of Henry, I will not entangle myself in a scandal with his nanny.”

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