Page 33 of The Sound of Seduction (Miracles on Harley Street #4)

When he finally eased back, Stan’s forehead came down to meet hers, unwilling to part completely.

Their breaths tangled in the fragile quiet between them, and he couldn’t stop himself from searching her face, needing some signal that she felt it, too—that this wasn’t just him being swept away, that she was right there with him.

Her flushed cheeks and the way her chest rose and fell unevenly grounded him, a subtle, unspoken answer to his silent question.

“Wendy,” he said softly, his voice rough from the emotion tightening his throat. He knew no other words would suffice but the simple truth. “I’m yours. No matter what happens, no matter what comes—it’s you. Only you.”

But the danger that Baron von List would come, that was for sure.

And it was an uncalculated but enormous risk.

He’d attempted to murder Benjamin Klonimus, stolen from the trade route, infiltrated the House of Lords, kidnapped Thea, and sent his lackeys to try again.

There was no doubt that even when List didn’t personally attack, he was sending the attackers.

He could see her breath hitch, hear the faint gasp as her fingers curled tighter against the towel draped over him.

Stan braced himself for hesitation, for the shadow of doubt he’d grown so accustomed to seeing in her eyes when the reality of who he was loomed between them.

He was the person between the doom List could cause and the safe and happy life he wished to give Wendy.

But she didn’t pull away. Instead, her lips tilted into the smallest smile, and one of her hands lifted to touch his face in return, a touch of a caress that sent heat coursing through his veins.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, her gaze settling on his. Her words struck him like a sharp pang in his chest—breathtaking and raw. She paused, and he held his breath, not daring to interrupt her. “Not now, not ever.”

His heart stumbled at her meaning. He wanted to respond, but the seriousness in her gaze stilled him, urging him to listen.

“I don’t know what the future looks like,” she continued, her laughter soft but tinged with a vulnerability that made his chest ache. “But I don’t want to—can’t—waste another moment running from this. And yet, wherever this—” she laid a hand on his arm, “leads me, I will never leave my brother.”

Never leave her brother… Stan nodded and inhaled deeply. Understood. She must have given this some thought. Well, so had he.

Her courage astounded him, but more than that, it unraveled something inside him. He lifted his hand to cover hers as it rested against his cheek. “You don’t know what it means,” he began, his voice thick, “to hear those words.”

“I think I do,” she replied, her tone trembling but certain enough to root him to the spot.

Her cheeks flushed deeper, and when she hesitated, looking away, Stan didn’t push her.

Every passing moment felt like an unraveling for them both—the layers of doubt, fear, and hesitation falling away to reveal something starkly real.

Finally, she braved his gaze again and whispered, “You make me believe I can be more for the first time and yet, I remain anchored to London and my brother.”

Stan swallowed hard, gratitude laced with determination surging within him.

Words seemed a poor substitute for what she’d gifted him just now—her trust, her willingness to meet him halfway—but he couldn’t leave her words hanging unanswered.

He leaned in again, brushing her lips with his, slow and deliberate.

This wasn’t a kiss meant to claim or persuade.

It was a promise—a tangible expression of the vow he’d made the moment she walked into his world.

But his world was laced with intrigue, danger, and the ever-simmering fuse to wage war. Wherever he went, he was a representative of the conflict of the European hegemonies—or lack thereof. Trouble didn’t follow him by chance. It followed him by definition.

He shouldn’t drag her into this.

“Wendy,” he murmured, his voice low but weighted, “My name alone draws danger the way a storm draws lightning. Wherever I go, it follows. You’d be safer without me.

” Stan swallowed the rest of his words. What an idiot he was, longing for her and then, when she finally kissed him, warning her that he’d be nothing but trouble.

Yet, he cared for her safety and wellbeing more than himself. Although he couldn’t quite understand it, he knew it to be true.

But then she leaned into him, her response unguarded now, and it was freeing in a way he hadn’t expected.

He felt her melt into the kiss, and beneath the press of their mouths, under the shared breath and warmth, Stan could sense the faintest shift in the way she held onto him.

It wasn’t nervousness, nor was it uncertainty.

It was trust.

And it made him hold her closer, cherish her all the more.

When she finally pulled back, her face was so close to his that her exhale brushed his lips.

“You’re wrong,” she said simply. “You don’t attract danger.

You attract honor. Loyalty. The sort of people who would lay down their lives to keep you safe, not because they have to, but because they want to. ”

Her words cut deep, in a way no blade could.

He laughed softly, incredulously, though the sound carried no humor.

“Loyalty doesn’t stop wars, Wendy. It doesn’t dismantle schemes or keep someone out of their sights.

I can’t promise… I can’t promise I’ll never ask you to leave with me someday.

I don’t know how this life will shape us or what it might demand of me.

” He hesitated, the sincerity of his own confession dulling the air between them.

Her eyes searched his, unwavering. “But if that day comes,” he continued, more urgently now, “I will promise this: I’ll always bring you back.

Back to your brother. Back to safety. That, I swear to you on my own honor and the life you gave me back. ”

She smiled so softly, so achingly tender, that it nearly undid him. “Stan,” she whispered, brushing her fingertips lightly over his cheek, “the danger that follows you doesn’t scare me. The idea of not being here with you—that’s what I can’t face.”

It wasn’t trust anymore. It was something stronger.

Something unshakable. For the first time in years, Stan felt the faintest flicker of hope catch fire in the corners of his heart.

Without a word, he cupped her face in his hands, leaning down to steal another kiss, one populated with every unspoken promise he couldn’t yet put to words.

For now, this moment was enough. For now, he’d surrender to her faith in him, and he’d carry it with him like armor.

I’ll keep you safe.

Somehow… unsure how and yet sure of it, nonetheless.

When he finally pulled back again, she lifted her eyes to him, her lips parted as though she hadn’t yet caught her breath.

But there was no question in her gaze this time, no hesitation.

“We’ll figure it out,” she murmured, a steady confidence in her voice that made his chest swell with something dangerously close to hope. “Together.”

Stan’s hand dropped to hers, his fingers lacing through hers with an ease that felt as natural as breathing.

Her words, simple yet all-encompassing, felt like a tether and a lifeline all at once.

“Together,” he repeated, a smile of quiet joy settling on his face, but he knew it was wishful thinking.

An impossibility he’d trained not to underestimate as a soldier.

Never think you are prepared for the enemy.

He couldn’t claim to know what challenges lay ahead. The world outside these walls, the burden of titles, responsibilities, and expectations—they wouldn’t disappear overnight. But as he looked into her unflinching gaze, Stan made a silent vow to himself.

Whatever came, whatever battles awaited, he would fight for her.

For them. Because Wendy wasn’t just a fleeting moment of happiness for him.

She was happiness, his present, and—a hope he dared not voice yet—perhaps even his future.

All he could do now was hold onto her fiercely and cherish her, with everything he had.