QUOTE : He stopped a few inches from her. Brushing back the sides of his black velvet jacket, he put his hands on his hips, his booted feet planted apart, his legs spread in a decidedly aggressive stance. <br /><br />“You could say that,” he drawled in an awful voice. “Where the hell have you been?”<br /><br />“At—at Lady Dunworthy’s ball.”<br /><br />“Until dawn?” he sneered.<br /><br />“Yes. There’s nothing unusual in that. You know how late these things go—”<br /><br />“No, I don’t know,” he said tightly. “Suppose you tell me why the minute you are out of my sight you forget how to count!”<br /><br />“Count?” Victoria repeated, growing more frightened by the moment. “Count what?”<br /><br />“Count days,” he clarified acidly. “I gave you permission to be here for two days, not four!”<br /><br />“I don’t need your permission,” Victoria burst out unwisely. “And don’t pretend you care whether I’m here or at Wakefield!”<br /><br />“Oh, but I do care,” he said in a silky voice, stripping off his jacket with slow deliberation and beginning to unbutton his white lawn shirt. “And you do need my permission. You’ve become very forgetful, my sweet—I’m your husband, remember? Take off your clothes.”<br /><br />Wildly, Victoria shook her head.<br /><br />“Don’t make me angry enough to force you,” he warned softly. “You won’t like what happens if you do, believe me.”<br /><br />Victoria believed that wholeheartedly. Her shaking hands went to the back of her dress, awkwardly fumbling with the tiny fasteners. “Jason, for God’s sake, what’s wrong?” she pleaded.<br /><br />“What’s wrong?” he repeated scathingly, tossing his shirt on the floor. “I’m jealous, my dear.” His hands went to the waistband of his trousers. “I’m jealous, and I find the feeling not only novel, but singularly unpleasant.