Lord of Scoundrels (Scoundrels #3)

Then he nearly trampled her down because, for some insane reason, Miss Trent wasn’t fleeing down the street, but marching back toward his house.

“Confound his insolence!” she cried, making for the door. “I shall break his nose. First the porter, now my maid—and the hackney. It is the outside of enough.”

Dain stepped in her way, his massive body shielding the entrance. “Oh, no, you don’t. I don’t know or care what your game is—”

“My game?” She stepped back, planted her hands on her hips, and glared up at him. At least she seemed to be glaring. It was difficult to tell, given the large bonnet brim and the failing light.