Jason Victoria Quotes

“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.

“You could say that,” he drawled in an awful voice. “Where the hell have you been?”

“At—at Lady Dunworthy’s ball.”

“Until dawn?” he sneered.

“Yes. There’s nothing unusual in that. You know how late these things go—”

“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!”

“Count?” Victoria repeated, growing more frightened by the moment. “Count what?”

“Count days,” he clarified acidly. “I gave you permission to be here for two days, not four!”

“I don’t need your permission,” Victoria burst out unwisely. “And don’t pretend you care whether I’m here or at Wakefield!”

“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.”

Wildly, Victoria shook her head.

“Don’t make me angry enough to force you,” he warned softly. “You won’t like what happens if you do, believe me.”

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.

“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.”
― Judith McNaught, Once and Always

“Oh, God,” Victoria choked behind him, staring in horror at the white scars that crisscrossed his beautiful back. There were dozens of them. Her fingers shook as she reached out to touch them; the moment she did, his skin flinched.

“Do they still hurt?” she whispered in anguished surprise.

“No,” Jason said tautly. Shame washed over him in sickening waves as he waited helplessly for her inevitable reaction to the stark evidence of his humiliation.
To his utter disbelief he felt her arms encircle him from behind and the touch of her lips on his back.

“How brave you must have been to endure this,” she whispered achingly, “how strong to survive it and go on living. . . .”
When she began kissing each scar, Jason rolled onto his side and jerked her into his arms.
“I love you,” he whispered agonizedly, plunging his hands into her luxuriant hair and turning her face up to his.
“I love you so much....”
― Judith McNaught, Once and Always