Page 62 of The Sound of Seduction (Miracles on Harley Street #4)

W endy awoke as the first golden light of dawn seeped softly into the room, filtering through the thin curtains and brushing her skin with warmth.

She drew the shawl from last night’s gown snug around her, her fingers grazing the silk threads that slid against the bare curve of her shoulder.

Beneath the fabric, her body still hummed, alive with the memory of Stan’s touch.

She felt the goosebumps of his hand on her waist, the press of his lips at her neck.

Each mark, each kiss lingered like an invisible thread tying the night to this very moment—the first day in the future they’d promised to one another.

The windowpane was cool beneath her fingertips as she gazed out over the sprawling garden.

The lawn shimmered with dew, fragile and fleeting in the glow of the rising sun.

She took a deep breath, tasting the wild sweetness of the earth mingling with the faint grassy air she loved so much.

The tranquility stretched before her, vast and serene, and yet, her heart was full—not with peace, but with an ache so deep it bordered on joy.

Behind her, soft rustling and the creak of wood reached her ears.

She turned her head slightly, and her heart gave the smallest flutter as she caught Stan shifting in the bed.

His bare torso rose just above the crumpled sheets, his dark hair in wild disarray, his eyes half-lidded and dreamy as they sought her out.

He stretched, the golden light painting him in warm hues, and when his gaze landed on her, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a lazy, lopsided grin.

“You didn’t wake me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, still wrapped in the edges of sleep.

Wendy smirked softly, turning back to study the glass. “I thought you could use the rest. The night was… strenuous.”

He laughed at that, deep and unrestrained, and she felt it wrap around her like the threads of her heart that would forever be bound to this handsome man.

The bed creaked again as he stood, and she didn’t need to look to know he was walking toward her.

She could already feel his presence, breathlessly close yet still too far away.

Wendy turned her head, enough to glance at him over her shoulder.

He stood bare behind her as if he were to bow and cut in, taking over her thoughts.

He took another step forward, the low heat in his tone melting into something softer as his hands found her waist. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to the top of her shoulder, lingering there.

Wendy closed her eyes for the briefest moment, letting the feel of his skin anchor her fully in the moment.

She opened them again and turned her gaze toward the garden. “Did you know,” she said lightly, “that you can see directly into Cloverdale House from here? Right into the top-floor windows facing the garden.”

Stan went still for half a beat before letting out a gruff hum. “I may have.”

Wendy turned toward him fully now, the shawl slipping slightly, though she hardly cared. “Were you spying on me?” she asked, her voice archly accusing, though her eyes were alight with amusement.

“A little bit.” Stan’s grin didn’t falter, not for a breath.

Instead, he gathered her close, his arms enveloping her fully as his fingers skimmed under the fold of her shawl.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before resting his forehead against hers.

His voice dropped into a low confession, disarming and entirely his.

“When I wasn’t near you, I couldn’t help but look.

I just wanted to see you. To watch over you if I couldn’t be right beside you. ”

The honesty of his words struck her, as did the depth in his gaze. Her heart clenched, pulling impossibly tighter in her chest. To her surprise, tears pricked the corners of her eyes, though she blinked them away, unwilling to surrender to them.

“Wendy,” he began, his voice low and steady, though it trembled with emotion, “I once thought I couldn’t let you get close to me. That my life was too complicated, too dangerous. That being with me would only drag you into the line of fire.”

Her breath hitched, her heart pounding as his words wrapped around her like a warm embrace.

“But I was wrong,” he continued, his voice softening as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers.

“You’ve shown me that love isn’t about keeping someone safe by pushing them away.

It’s about standing together, no matter the risks.

You’ve made me stronger, braver, and more whole than I ever thought I could be.

And now, I can’t imagine a life without you in it. ”

“You can’t keep me safe from everything, Stan,” she whispered, her voice shaking slightly, unbidden. “You can’t hold the whole world at bay.”

“Maybe not,” Stan said. “But I can hold you.” He tilted her face up then and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was unhurried and deep, reverent in its intensity, and for a fleeting moment, she forgot anything beyond this room, this man, this morning.

When they parted, they lingered there, close yet unwilling to break the fragile spell between them. Wendy glanced toward his desk then, a curious spark lighting her expression. “The empty frame,” she said softly. “What’s it for?”

Stan followed her gaze, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

Walking her toward it, he traced a finger over the polished wood before looking at her with a mix of pride and tenderness.

“It’s for you,” he said simply. “For your appointment as director. You’ve earned this.

Every bit of respect and admiration you command deserves a place like this in your new office. ”

“You knew about it?”

“Yes, Pippa and Nick spoke to me after I asked for Nick’s permission.

” Stan took a step back and held both her hands in his.

“I sent a letter to my parents and asked them to come to our wedding. I’m afraid though that the ring I want to give you, an heirloom that’s been in my family for over two hundred years, will arrive only when mother is here. ”

Wendy’s breath caught, and this time she couldn’t stop the tears spilling free. She laughed through them, her hand covering her lips as she shook her head. “Stan,” she whispered, her voice shuddering with emotion.

“No,” he said gently, cupping her face now as he kissed her tears away. “No words. You’ve already given me everything I could ask for. The least I could give you is the wedding you deserve, even if it will be winter before we can have it.”

And as they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of morning, Stan took Wendy’s hands as they stood in the middle of the grand chambers. Wendy’s heart raced as Stan knelt before her, his dark eyes fixed on hers, his expression reverent.

“Wendy,” he began, his voice steady though laden with emotion.

“You are the healer of my soul, the light that found me in the dark. It would be my greatest honor if you would allow me to spend the rest of my life proving that you are my equal in every way. I don’t just want you to be my princess—I want you to be my everything. ”

Wendy blinked, her breath catching. Princess. It hardly seemed real. She attempted to whisper but no sound came, just a squeal that made them both laugh even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I know you think you don’t belong in palaces or castles, with kingdoms bowing in your presence,” Stan said as he rose to his feet, lifting her hands to his lips.

“But Wendy, I’ve already called them here.

The court will come to you, and they will bear witness to what I’ve seen from the moment I met you—that you are better than any of us, my love. You are, and always will be.”

Wendy’s vision blurred with tears, but she refused to turn away.

His words wrapped around her heart, filling every gap where doubt or fear once resided.

She had spent so long protecting herself, believing that love, at least a love like this, was not hers to claim.

And yet here he was, offering her the very world.

“Say yes,” Stan murmured, so close now that she could feel his breath on her lips. His hands framed her face, holding her steady as if anchoring her to this moment. “Say yes, and I’ll spend every day reminding you of just how deeply I love you.”

“Yes,” Wendy choked out, her voice breaking as she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. His laughter, warm and rich, echoed through the vast room as he caught her, lifting her off the ground.

She felt the strength in his arms, the heat of his love pulsing through her as though it could undo every sorrow life had dealt her before.

Their kiss was slow, deliberate, and when they finally pulled apart, Wendy rested her forehead against his, her heart thundering in her chest. “I never dreamed of this,” she admitted softly. “Of something so… unreal.”

“Oh, this is real,” he said, threading his fingers through hers. “You’ve made the fairy tale real for me. You’ve saved me, Wendy. Now, allow me to give you everything.”

For the first time, Wendy felt the grip of her doubts lifting. Where once she carried the burden of her shortcomings, she carried his love. It was here, with him as her prince, bringing not only his love but the world’s recognition of what she’d always been to him.

Not just his equal. His everything. His princess.

*

The series continues with Felix’s story in The Taste of Gold , book5 of the Miracles on Harley Street series.