He assessed the room, and a plan began to emerge in his mind. If Simon would just move away from the door, toward the windows, he could make it past the Duke. He might be scarred, but he was healthy and strong, something that many of his contemporaries overlooked.
He feigned a move toward the window, and Simon, seeing that his father’s sword had the door covered, moved to block that avenue of escape—perfect!
Christian made for the door before the Duke even had time to blink, although the Duke’s sword sliced Christian’s neck on the way past.
Hell, what was one more scar?
His bare feet hardly touched the floor as he ran for the back stairs. For once, he didn’t care that his twisted and marked body was on display.
He’d only just taken a couple of steps down when he scented danger in the form of floor polish—but it was too late. His feet slid out from under him, and he went down headfirst, tumbling down the narrow staircase. Tucking himself into a ball, he tried to protect his head.
He thought for one moment he might survive the fall unscathed, but when the iron doorstop came into view at the bottom of the stairs, dread set in. He knew he was going to hit it. He desperately clawed at thin air, trying to ensure he found the open doorway, but his actions were in vain.
I hate it when I’m right, was his last thought before his head collided with the iron doorstop. Then pain seared through his brain until, mercifully, everything went dark.
Love stories you’ll never forget
by authors you’ll always remember
eOriginal Romance from Random House www.readloveswept.com
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