“You will never speak to me the way that you did last night,” Milan said, his voice hard. Lord Raphael’s eyes widened. Milan forged on. “I understand anger and expressing it. But speaking to me like I am beneath you, looming over me, banging the table—I will not tolerate that. I would like to remind you that you agreed to this marriage. I did not trick you into it. You do not want me. Fine. But it was your decision to have me here, so do not suggest I have invaded, or that I have the power to infect.”
