Love Hurts

By Christy Poff

A Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read! Madison Allcott marries a man who loves her. When she realizes her true feelings for him, he dies under mysterious circumstances leaving her in control of a vast financial empire some would kill for. Then she meets a man who flames the fires of her soul.Galen Beaumont has searched for a woman to share his eternity with since his first wife's death years before. He finds Madison, by chance, and they embark on a journey through the darker side of life while falling madly in love with each other. Will one man's eyes of darkness keep them apart while trying to steal her fortune? Will they learn love hurts in more ways than one? Genre: Erotic Paranormal / Romance Rating: Erotic Romance - Explicit (Contains adult content, language, and graphic sex) Read the incredible Paranormal Erotic Romance EYES OF DARKNESS series from Christy Poff! DANTE'S FLAME [EYES OF DARKNESS BOOK 1] SPARK OF THE WOLF [EYES OF DARKNESS BOOK 2] LOVE HURTS [EYES OF DARKNESS BOOK 3] RED FIRE [EYES OF DARKNESS BOOK 4] WHITE ICE [EYES OF DARKNESS BOOK 5] NIGHT WISH [EYES OF DARKNESS BOOK 6]

• Language: English
• Publisher: Torrid Books
• Release date: Dec 1, 2005
• ISBN: 9781593744663

Book preview

Prologue

Paris, France, 1409

Galen Beaumont hurried home to the huge manor house his family owned on the outskirts of Paris. The day before his wedding to Simone Jourdain, he had finished some last minute errands before the grand ball his mother insisted on hosting.

The time drew near for him to dress for the occasion and his manservant waited patiently for him to finish his bath so he could help him. Galen hated affairs like this and truly did not look forward to the wedding and reception the next day, though he could not wait to marry Simone, a phenomenal beauty.

Monsieur Galen, your father wants to speak with you as soon as possible.

Merci, Henri.

Galen knew what the elder Beaumont wanted to discuss and he smiled. At nineteen years of age, he would become the owner of a financial empire including a shipping company, banking, manufacturing and other industries—all because of his upcoming nuptials. The perfect thing about it all was the company ran itself, his father being extremely successful. Another aspect to his fortune pleased him more—his father planned to remain active in the family business, allowing Galen and Simone to get settled into their new lives. Galen knew how his father schemed and allowed the man his fun.

At nineteen, Galen Beaumont had long been sought after in society circles. The gala balls during the season had many a Parisian mother pushing their daughters on him in hopes of their girls becoming Madame Beaumont. He’d met Simone the summer before, became instantly smitten with her. This pleased both families due to the financial windfall the marriage would bring, only Galen and Simone found one huge difference with this alliance aside from others of the day. They truly loved each other.

* * * *

After their marriage, they traveled the world making deals and acquisitions while Galen’s father ran the companies from his office at home. The empire became huge, all those involved extremely happy and well off.

Galen loved Simone, their marriage and life together perfect, except for one thing. For years, they tried to have a family. He wanted an heir to inherit the family fortune. Every time Simone became pregnant, she would miscarry. The physical problem eluded the physicians and angered her. She wanted children—his children.

Galen, she would apologize, God does not wish me to have children.

Galen calmed her and quietly looked into legally taking on a ward. He found a young man named Etienne Marsden and after checking his background—he didn’t want any dead relatives appearing suddenly—he took Etienne on and began his education.

Over twenty years, Galen and Etienne built the family fortune considerably while becoming, in their own ways, the corporate raiders of their time. No matter what they involved themselves in, it turned a profit. The thrill of the chase excited him but paled when it came to his wife.

Simone became pregnant in 1429 at an age considered extremely old to be having her first baby. Galen worried but she calmed him and took to her bed for the duration. The pregnancy progressed normally and with it, the hopes of having their family—finally.

You are even more radiant than the day we met, m’lady, he told her near the end of her term.

My husband always knows the right thing to say.

I’ve always spoken my heart to you.

I know. You’ve never lied to me.

I haven’t, he assured her.

I would have known, dearest Galen.

By sunset, Simone had died. With weeks to go, she went into premature labor and both she and their baby—the son she’d wanted to give him—had been lost to him.

Their passing sent Galen into an emotional tailspin. He refused to let anyone attend her in order to prepare her for the funeral. When he finally passed out from sheer exhaustion, her maids took care of her, his manservant seeing to his Lord.

Galen went through the motions as a priest read the services. His wife and son joined other members of the Beaumont family in the crypt located behind the altar of the family’s private chapel. Galen remained long after her entombment, unable to pull himself away.

Etienne finally coaxed him into leaving the crypt and helped him to his room. He looked at the bed they had shared for twenty years and swore he would never set foot in the room again. His manservant set him up in the apartment across the hall and Galen remained true to his word. This happened in July but within a month’s time, Galen’s life went from bad to worse.

While Etienne kept the businesses running and successful, Galen fell deeper into depression. He’d taken to the bottle and became reclusive, though his ward kept his benefactor’s situation quiet.

A few weeks after Simone’s death, Galen left the manor with a bottle in hand. He stumbled into the gardens, falling onto one of the stone benches. He drank more, his head spinning.

Galen...

He looked around. He’d heard her voice, or had it been the result of his drunken stupor?

Simone, where are you? he called.

Galen, come join me.

Galen looked around him, trying to find her. His fuzzy mind prayed it wasn’t a dream or part of the nightmare he’d plunged into with her death.

Galen...

Where are you?

Follow my voice. Come to me.

He looked around, again seeing no one. The light of the full moon blinding him, Galen closed his eyes to ease the pain. He opened them and saw a ghostly vision near the edge of the garden, the same place they loved to sneak away.

Simone?

The vision held her hands out to him, beckoning to him. He dropped the bottle and ran to her, falling into the arms of the woman he loved.

Simone, I thought I’d lost you forever.

No, my love. We can be together eternally.

Her words made no sense between his stupor and seeing his wife. They kissed, Galen unaware of what went on around him. The cool breeze turned cold as clouds covered the moon, plunging them into an eerie darkness. Galen didn’t care.

Their kiss deepened, Galen under a spell of some sort. He pulled back gazing into her eyes, hypnotized by her beauty. He pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. He didn’t feel anything, aside from the euphoria sweeping through him. All he knew was he had Simone in his arms. Heat scorched him but he didn’t worry.

In a deep corner of his sanity, he realized something was horribly wrong. As much as he loved his wife, he knew this was wrong. He knew the stinging pain at the base of his neck was out of the ordinary but lust drove him as need took over.

Simone, I love you.

I know, Galen. Sleep, my love.

* * * *

Galen woke, unaware of where he’d spent the night. He moved his head, pain radiating through him. He had no memory of hitting his head but when he went to move his hand to check it, he discovered something even stranger. Why am I chained to a wall and where the hell am I?

You’ll call it hell—not once, but many times over the course of your lifetime.

Who are you?

Your mistress... Your maker...

Maker? What does that mean?

When I’m done, you’ll walk the earth for eternity.

Where’s Simone? What have you done to her? He screamed, his mind extremely clear now.

Your dead little wife remains in her crypt. You could say I borrowed her in order to lure you to my...

Why? What do you want from me?

I want you, Galen Beaumont.

No. I want my wife.

She’s dead. You will live on forever.

I don’t want to. I want to be with my wife.

Too late, Galen. You have no choice. You are mine.

I am no one’s possession. Let me go.

"You don’t get it, do you? You are vampyr. I made you and now, I own you."

No. I want Death... Simone...

She waved her hand in front of him, Galen quieted, though she knew he watched her.

I am Joelle, your mistress. You are mine to call whenever I want you.

Joelle had walked as undead for several centuries along with her sister, Danica, although she held her territory to London and was just as nasty. Joelle had slain her maker, then begun her search for the perfect eternal mate. She’d watched Galen Beaumont for years but his obsession with his wife prevented her from acquiring him as her child. Once Simone passed, Joelle determined to bring him over to the dark side.

She’d bitten him once and planned on several more over the course of the phase of the full moon. It didn’t bother her if he fought her, it was too late. He would be vampyr and she’d have someone to go through eternity with.

Joelle checked the time, then went to her captive. She removed the invisible gag and looked him over. Though she’d shackled him to the wall of the abandoned farmhouse at the lower end of the estate, she didn’t trust him to behave—at least, not yet.

She cast her spell over him again and immediately, he craved her as he fought the shackles holding him, needing contact. Joelle smiled as she lapped his neck, Galen moaning. She felt her incisors lengthen as she brushed her body against his.

Please... he begged as she bent to kiss him. His body wanted her. So what if it was her spell over him... She drew back from the kiss and traced his neck with her tongue. She felt his heartbeat, his blood flowing near the surface. She smelled his scent and languished in it as she clamped down on his skin, sinking her fangs into him.

Joelle drank from him, taking his life into her as she feasted on his blood. She felt rejuvenated and alive, stopping herself before she went too far and drained him. She licked the wound, healing it. She easily slashed her wrist to open herself to her child. She put her wrist to his lips and, like a newborn babe, he latched onto her and drank.

She loved the sensation of him sucking her blood and, after a bit, she broke his hold on her.

Lick my wrist, Galen, but do not drink anymore.

Yes, mistress, he said as he licked the wound so it would heal.

Joelle put him back to sleep as she felt daybreak nearing. Though the cellar had no windows, her internal clock knew the deadly daylight loomed.

"Till later, mon amour."

Proud of herself and her newest creation, Joelle crept into her darkened chamber and stretched out. Bringing Beaumont over opened up new opportunities—money, comfort, position. She slept the sleep of the dead and actually looked forward to sunset.

* * * *

Galen came out of his induced state violently. He fought his restraints, finding a new strength in his body. He heard sounds he normally wouldn’t have. He smelled the scent of a terrified field mouse and heard its tiny heartbeat thumping hard as if it knew something he didn’t.

He licked his lips, his mouth dry. A stinging sensation caught his tongue and he realized his teeth had lengthened and sharpened. What the hell am I going through? The bitch mentioned vampyr, things which did not exist. Again, he tried pulling against the bonds holding him imprisoned.

A small shard of light cut through the darkness. He winced, his eyes shocked at how bright it appeared. All of his senses heightened, he became angrier as he pondered the state of his sanity. Am I going mad?

* * * *

Sunset came and went. Joelle rose, dressed and left the farmhouse to see if anyone had missed her new pet. Shifting into a blackbird, she flitted towards the manor house.

Has anyone seen Monsieur Beaumont?

Not since the other night.

Poor thing, the older woman said, her passing has been too much for him.

"Le Manoir du Chance hasn’t been the same since her death."

Has anyone gone looking for...

Monsieur Marsden has but he’s also been busy taking care of business ventures.

Joelle inwardly smiled. The Lord of the Manor had not really been missed at all. She could keep him for a while and enjoy him. She’d have her fun while making sure her newest creation made the change and accepted her gift, dark as it may be.

Flying back to the farmhouse, she found a high perch, then listened. She heard his cries as he experienced his new life. She flew up, then slowly let her body float to the floor, changing back to her human form. She