"You're not stupid. You're a coward."
"Ivor Sanchez, you make me sick."
Ivor's chest heaved. His features twisted, and his hand rose to strike her across the face. But slowly, it dropped back to his side.
"Fine. Just fine."
"Jocelyn Henson, let's see how long that spine of yours holds up."
He spun toward the door and bellowed down the stairs. "Jasper James! Starting today, she gets nothing but water. Not a single thing. Let's see how many days she lasts."
The old butler glanced at Jocelyn with hesitation in his eyes but didn't dare defy the order.
Ivor turned back one last time and looked at her.
"When I get back from Switzerland with Nellie, I hope you still have the strength to beg."
Three days later. Switzerland.
Ivor stood at the summit of Jungfrau Peak, gazing out over the vast white expanse below. His chest felt hollow.
Nellie clung to his arm, her smile coy and sweet. "I like it so much better here. Can we stay a few more days?"
Ivor said nothing. All he could see was the way Jocelyn had looked at him that last time.
Calm. Distant. Like she was looking at a stranger.
No. Worse than a stranger. She had looked at him the way someone looks at garbage.
"Ivor? What are you thinking about?"