The Billionaire Waitress
I thought, my pulse pounding like the surf.
The villa’s bedroom was a sultry haven, the ocean breeze slipping through open shutters, heavy with salt and jasmine. Justin entered, his linen shirt unbuttoned, exposing the hard planes of his chest, his dark curls dripping from a night swim, his hazel eyes blazing with raw desire, his woodsy cologne—cedar and bergamot—mingling with the sea’s tang. Since his drunken spiral in that New York dive bar, our trust had been a jagged wound, his guilt over Elise, Sophie’s 2027 Paris affair, and Claire Voss’s scandal clashing with my desperate love. “You’re everything, Kayla,” he growled, his voice low, vibrating through me as his hands gripped my waist, p
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