Davina's POV
I crumpled onto my bed, my frame melting into the soft surface, yet my thoughts wouldn't quiet down.
The evening kept spinning through my head, an endless cycle I couldn't break free from.
Irvin.
That voice of his.
The way he touched me.
The intensity burning in his gaze.
I clamped my eyes closed, clutching my covers tight.
I had craved his kiss. Ached for it.
I had yearned for Irvin Jenkin—despite everything.
Despite how he'd manipulated me in his cruel scheme.
Despite how he'd claimed my innocence then discarded me like trash.
These feelings for him still consumed me.
"Damn it, I'm such an idiot. Such a complete fucking idiot."
I rolled to face the wall, burying my head in my pillow, hoping it might somehow smother these overwhelming emotions.
Irvin wasn't even making this simple for me.
He was utterly bewildering.
He made me believe he gave a damn, yet I was certain—absolutely certain—Irvin despised me.
Right?
