In love with a billionaire

009

Smith 's Books was bathed in a soft, uncertain light, the oil lamp on the counter casting steadier shadows now that the storm was receding, leaving behind a light rain that murmured against the windows. The rumbles of thunder were now only a distant echo, and the damp air still carried the scent of wet paper and old wood, mixed with a subtle tension that hung between the three occupants. Sebastian Hooper , leaning against a shelf near the counter, had regained some of his confidence, despite his soaked suit hanging off him like a ruined relic. His brown hair, still damp, clung to his forehead in untidy strands, but his blue eyes shone with a new curiosity, fixed on Adeline Smith. Sitting on her stool, she absentmindedly stroked the cover of Jane Eyre, her fingers brushing the worn leather as if to anchor her thoughts after their intense exchange. Harold Grayson , by the door, was adjusting his dripping coat, ready to return to check on the Rolls-Royce, his gaze shifting from his boss to the bookseller with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

Sebastian cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had followed Adeline's confession about her favorite passage from Jane Eyre. He approached the counter with a more assured gait, his shoes clicking softly on the damp floorboards. "You know, Miss Smith," he began, his voice low and tinged with a warmth he hadn't yet fully unleashed, "that line about freedom... it's more like you than I first thought. A free human creature, with an independent will. It's quite fascinating." He placed a hand on the counter, his fingers brushing the scuffed wood inches from his book, and smiled genuinely, seeking to prolong the connection he'd glimpsed.

Adeline looked up, her green gaze scanning him with a muted but still present suspicion. She crossed her arms, a gesture that seemed more reflexive than defiant this time, and raised an eyebrow. "Fascinating?" she repeated, her voice clear but tinged with a hint of irony. "You have a funny way of phrasing your compliments, Mr. Hooper . It's as if you were talking about a specimen in a museum." She tapped Jane Eyre with her fingertips, a fleeting smile crossing her lips before fading.

Harold, who had moved closer to listen, chuckled softly and leaned against a shelf, crossing his arms with a mischievous look. "A specimen, eh? You're used to collecting rare things, sir! But I think you've found a gem that won't be picked up." He winked at Adeline, who gave him an amused, almost knowing look before turning her attention back to Sebastian .

Sebastian ignored Harold, his smile widening slightly. "Not a specimen," he corrected, lowering his voice as if to create intimacy in the exchange. "A person. Someone who intrigues me more than I would have imagined coming in here soaking wet." He accompanied his words with a short laugh, a raspy sound that betrayed a hint of self-deprecation, and ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it back in a gesture that might have been flirtatious under other circumstances.

Adeline stared at him for a moment, her lips pursed as if to suppress a scathing retort, but a flicker of curiosity crossed her gaze. "Intrigued?" she asked, one eyebrow raised. "And what exactly intrigues you? My way of putting you in your place, or the fact that I don't swoon over your name and fortune?" She leaned slightly against the counter, crossing her arms more tightly, but her tone was more playful than hostile.

Harold burst into a loud laugh, stamping his foot on the floor. "Oh, that's a good one! Swooning, eh? You're used to it, sir, with all those Mayfair ladies chasing you!" He came over, resting his elbows on the counter with a knowing look. "But it's not the same here, is it, Miss Smith? You've got character!"

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but an involuntary smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thank you, Harold, for the unnecessary reminder," he muttered, before turning to Adeline. "What intrigues me is you. Your wit, your way of seeing the world… and yes, perhaps a little bit of your knack for putting me in my place." He accompanied his words with a pointed look, trying to catch hers. "You're not like the people I usually spend time with. And that's… refreshing."

Adeline stared at him, her fingers slightly loosening their grip on Jane Eyre. She sat more comfortably on her stool, crossing her legs beneath her gray dress, and gave a bitter smile. "Refreshing?" she repeated, a hint of irony returning to her voice. "You speak of me as a summer breeze. But I'm not here to entertain you, Mr. Hooper . I have a life, a bookstore, responsibilities. No time for your games." She opened the book again, pretending to resume reading, but her eyes remained fixed on him for a moment longer.

Harold whistled softly, impressed. "Responsibility, eh? Now that's a woman who knows what she wants! You should take notes, sir. It'd be a change from meetings and figures!" He rapped on the counter, an admiring smile on his lips, before moving away to check the door, sensing that the storm had almost dissipated.

Sebastian leaned further against the counter, crossing his arms with newfound determination. "I'm not playing," he said, his voice lower, almost serious. "And I'm not asking you to drop your responsibilities. Just… to give me a chance to get to know you better." He paused, searching for words, an unusual exercise for a man accustomed to commanding rather than convincing. "You said our worlds are different, and that's true. But perhaps they could intersect, just a little?"

Adeline looked up, surprised by this sudden vulnerability. She laid Jane Eyre flat, crossing her arms with muted suspicion. "Cross paths?" she repeated, one eyebrow raised. "And how, exactly? Do you want to come here to browse books between meetings? Or bring me into your drawing rooms to serve as a curiosity for your friends?" She accompanied her question with a wry smile, testing his reaction.

Harold, who was returning from the door, chuckled softly. "Oh, I can see that, Miss Smith in an evening gown, surrounded by snobs who can't read anything but their bank accounts! It would be quite a sight!" He approached, miming an exaggerated bow. "But seriously, sir, she's right. What exactly are you proposing?"

Sebastian ignored Harold, his gaze fixed on Adeline. "None of that," he replied, his voice firm but gentle. "Just tea. Or coffee, if you prefer. Somewhere we can talk, without thunderstorms, without a broken-down car, without... all that." He gestured vaguely around the room, his smile returning, more genuine this time. "I'd like to see you again, Adeline. Not to change you, or impress you, but to understand. What do you say?"

A silence fell, punctuated by the murmur of the light rain outside. Adeline stared at him, her fingers clenched on the edge of the counter, torn between suspicion and a curiosity she refused to admit. She stood up, stepping around the counter to stand in front of him, her eyes searching his as if to read a hidden agenda. "See you again?" she repeated, her voice low and thoughtful. "We have nothing in common, Mr. Hooper . You live in a palace, I live in an attic. You talk of factories and contracts, I of books and survival. Why bother?"

Sebastian 's shoulder with a knowing look. "Because he's as stubborn as a mule, miss! He certainly loves a challenge, and you're one of them!" He patted his boss on the shoulder before stepping back, pretending to wipe down a shelf to hide his amusement.

Sebastian cracked a smile, nodding. "He's not wrong," he admitted, his voice lighter. "But this isn't just a challenge. You intrigue me, Adeline. And I'm not one to let a meeting like this end at a closed door." He accompanied his words with a sincere look, crossing his arms with newfound confidence. "Tea, nothing more. No palaces, no contracts. Just a conversation."

Adeline stared at him for a long moment, her shoulders relaxing slightly under the weight of her decision. She went back behind the counter, grabbing Jane Eyre like a shield, and shook her head. "No," she said finally, her voice polite but firm. "We have nothing in common, and I don't see how it would change anything. You're a gentleman visiting, and I'm staying here. It's better that way." She opened the book again, her fingers stroking the page, and gave him a courteous but distant smile. "Good evening, Mr. Hooper ."

Harold whistled softly, impressed by her refusal. "Ouch, mister, she kindly told you to get lost! She's got style, eh?" He approached the door, opening it slightly to check the sky. "The storm's almost over, and I can hear the car honking—I think it's ready. We should go."

Sebastian stood there for a moment, unsettled by her refusal, but a determined glint crossed his eyes. He bowed slightly, a formal gesture that contrasted with his disheveled state. "Good evening, Miss Smith," he replied, his voice soft but laden with an implicit promise. "But I'm not sure this is the end." He accompanied his words with a wry smile, then turned to Harold. "Let's go."

Harold sneered, flinging the door open. "Stubborn as a mule, I tell you!" he called, letting in a breath of fresh air before stepping out. Sebastian followed, glancing one last time at Adeline, who was pretending to read but whose fingers trembled slightly on the page. The rusty bell jingled behind him, and he disappeared into the night, the light rain glistening on his soaked suit, his mind already on the next encounter.