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T he grand hall of the Royal Academy of Art in London buzzed with anticipation as the auctioneer stepped onto the platform, his voice booming through the ornate chamber. Wolf looked such a distinguished figure, clad in his finest attire, standing amidst the crowd, his gaze fixed on the object of his desire—a delicate painting of his beloved, Tiffany.

He’d supplied two other paintings for the auction from his private collection, and both had raised a significant sum. Tiffany wondered how much he would have to pay to ensure this one remained his—theirs.

She straightened the skirt of her gown. For once she was adorned in a gown of elegance befitting her station, hoping to make Wolf proud. She prayed no one really recognized the fact she was the woman in the painting.

She stood beside him, her eyes flickering nervously between the auctioneer and the painting that bore her likeness. In her heart, she harbored doubts about her own beauty, despite the adoration evident in Wolf’s eyes. Who would ever bid on this?

“I hope Fane doesn’t turn up. If he recognizes this painting is you… I hate to think what he’ll do,” Ashley whispered in her ear.

Tiffany just smiled. “Fane knows we are to wed. How upset could he be?”

“You look almost naked,” Ivy admonished. “Beautiful, but naked.”

“It’s not really me.”

Ashley scoffed. “You just don’t see it, do you?”

It was so wonderful to have these two friends with her at this auction. No matter how brave a front she displayed to the crowd. She too hoped no one recognized the woman in the painting was her. How could they? This wasn’t really her. It was Wolf’s imagination.

To her surprise as the auction began, bids flew back and forth like arrows in a medieval joust. She watched as Wolfarth’s jaw clenched with determination as rival bidders vied for the prized artwork. Yet, his resolve remained unwavering, fueled by his unspoken promise to her. She prayed no one else won the painting.

The way Wolf had painted her made her feel as if her soul was on display.

With each raise of his hand, the tension in the room mounted. Tiffany watched, her heart pounding with a mixture of trepidation and hope. She longed to possess the painting, not just as a piece of art but as a testament to Wolf’s understanding of her as a woman. His brush strokes made her look—beautiful.

Finally, after a fierce battle of bids, the gavel came down with a resounding thud, signaling the end of the auction. Wolf emerged victorious, a triumphant smile gracing his lips as he secured the painting.

As the crowd dispersed, Wolf approached her holding the painting tenderly in his arms. “My dear Tiffany,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion, “this painting captures but a fraction of your true beauty. I hope it will remind you each day of the way I see you—radiant, enchanting, and utterly captivating.”

Tiffany’s eyes brimmed with tears as she gazed upon the painting, finally accepting herself through Wolf’s adoring gaze. With a trembling hand, she reached out to touch the canvas, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping her.

Wolf pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “As promised, this is my wedding gift to you.”

“I’ll cherish it always. And I know exactly where I’ll hang it.”

With her arm linked through Wolf’s and her two friends, soon to be her sisters-in-law with them, her new family, she turned to leave, not believing how much money the auction raised for the scholarship.

Chatting excitedly about who the first scholarship might go to, together, they left the grand hall, the painting cradled in Wolf’s arms, a symbol of their enduring bond and the timeless beauty of their love.