Romance Fan Fiction / Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Hidden Away ❯ The Snitch ( Chapter 14 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: This is an original novel and is under copyright. All rights are reserved.
 
 
 
 
Chapter 14
The Snitch
 
 
 
 

Naomi stole a look at her Breagan later that night in Breagan's room as they readied themselves for bed. She was still unsure exactly how she had gained his favor; all she'd done is cause him trouble.

Breagan noticed her sidelong look, and instantly got concerned, “Naomi?” he asked, "Everything okay?"

She couldn't help but smile softly at his concern, "I'm still a little taken back by my good fortune. I never could have dreamed of ever being part of such a family," her head had been in the clouds all night since the mention of marriage to Breagan. She might have sworn she had been dreaming.

Breagan looked her over as she brushed her length of locks, happy with his good fortune as well. Jake couldn't have been happier than if Breagan had actually handed him a baby. He had been pretty proud of himself in his meddling to get Breagan married. Especially to a woman like Naomi, who Jake instantly chose for his son when he first saw her standing comfortably next to him only a week ago.

Breagan stood from his spot on the bed and went over her to take over brushing. Seizing the brush, he answered her statement in kind, “I felt the need to protect you the first night I saw you standing in my foyer. It was soon after that when I found I didn't want you to ever leave,” he stated with steady pulls of the brush through her hair. He stopped brushing when her hair was done, and put the brush down in favor of turning her to look at him, “I love you, Naomi. I want to keep protecting you when there's nobody to protect you from anymore.”

She sat in her seat with his warm hands holding her shoulders and took a shaky breath, “I love you, too, Breagan. Truth be told, I didn't want to leave here when this was over. I almost wanted to insist that you let me stay with you,” she said with a smile.


At hearing her wonderful reply, he pulled her in closer by her shoulders. They had been at the vanity which sat between the bed and the doors leading to the balcony. When he had her where he wanted her, they moved backward toward the bed. Once there, he pulled her astride his lap and brought her face down to his, guiding her mouth into a gentle kiss.
 
After a moment, the kiss heated to steal their breaths away and hands started to roam. Nimble fingers began to undress the other slowly, and they were soon in their preferred state.
 
Naomi soon felt his hands flow over her hips to delve into her crevices. She jumped closer into his chest with a strangled gasp when his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through her nerves. Moaning at the familiar fire he'd caused in her body, she delved her hands into his hair.
 
As her position allowed, Breagan took advantage of it and feasted on her breasts as his fingers did their part. His mouth and his hands' actions played off of each other to turn Naomi into a writhing mass before him, and he was throbbing to ease both of their wants. Lying back, Breagan guided Naomi to where he wanted her while astride him. Naomi's reaction to her new position ignited her fire further, and her eyes flew open to see Breagan watching her reaction.
 
He'd never seen a more beautiful sight. She was astride him in the darkened room with only the lamplight to illuminate her fair hair flowing down her shoulders to end at her navel and hips over her tanned skin, clinging in places where sweat had claimed it. Her toned muscles worked as they began to rock her body atop him in time with his thrusting.
 
Her tentative movements shot pleasure through him making it difficult to focus on her face as he began his own movements beneath her.
 
Naomi whimpered with the tension building inside herself that she now knew would promise unbelievable fulfillment and leave her shuddering in his arms. Her hands were resting on his chest as balance and she could feel his racing heart as they worked together.
 
Breagan ran his hands up her thighs from their position on the bed. He took them over her hips and stomach to end at her breasts where he toyed with the sensitive pink-brown peaks. He kneaded her flesh gently as her body continued to heat up from the inside out, causing her fine sheen of sweat to claim the ends of her hair.
 
Naomi felt feverishly braver and bent down to nuzzle Breagan's neck; pulling a moan out of his mouth. He ran his hands from her breasts around to span over her back as she rocked faster in rhythm with him. As she moved faster with him, her new position caused delicious friction. She nearly screamed when her pleasure finally broke to quickly unravel in her climax, making her shudder under the force of it. On her way down, she vaguely felt him tense underneath her in his own peak with his hands grasping her hips more firmly against him with a faint growl. His breathing was ragged as he weakly lifted her head to nuzzle her cheek. Naomi had already surrendered herself to sleep, so Breagan merely disconnected their bodies and covered them with his covers. He continued to nuzzle her neck until he, too, fell into sleep.
 
Hank walked into Cokrain's house the next morning with apprehension written clearly on his face. Cokrain's sharp eye caught this on sight of him on his way to his study from the staircase. Hank and the hired men had looked for any sign of Naomi in neighboring towns for three days with no luck, and had finally come to face Cokrain hesitantly.
 
“You haven't found her, have you?” he said, stopping in front of Hank while keeping his eyes on the papers he had been carrying.
 
“We've been searching all day, every day since we lost her, and there is still someone watching the house just in case,” Hand said quickly, trying to explain himself to the stoic man. As intimidating as Cokrain normally was, Hank had never seen the side of him that made Hank wish he'd never gone into this business. He saw it know, every time he came in with no news about Naomi being sighted. Hank looked warily into violet eyes that said clearly that he had better find Naomi soon or he would no longer have the ability to walk, “We will continue searching towns along the road you were on when your horse fell, but there are turn-offs and it could take a while,” Hank continued quickly, “I assure you, we won't stop until we've found her, sir.”
 
“Hope that you find her soon,” was Cokrain's clipped reply, glancing at Hank on his way past him. Why he ever let Hank start working for him, he didn't know. Hank effectively dismissed, Cokrain continued to his study cursing the damned ache that he refused to try curing with any other woman. He'd tried, but after using a couple women for what should be Naomi's job, he'd found them severely lacking. He could use them just fine, they simply didn't deserve him like she did. His condition could only be cured by the elusive prize Naomi Foster and the delectable body he knew she possessed, thanks to the sample he got of it on the night when she ran away. Damn the whole Tyler family.
 
The Tylers sat in the parlor after their breakfast. They enjoyed the morning air with the windows opened, only after Jake and Breagan had done a sweep of the estate to rule out any onlookers. Breagan was pretty sure that Cokrain was the only person that followed that night, and signs of them were probably lost in the rain they had traveled through. It was heavy enough at first that even they'd had trouble staying on the road. There had been no sign of disturbed terrain around the property, nor were there any suspicious carriages or horses in the area. Jake had sternly decided that everyone could use the fresh air.
 
Naomi was sitting with Breagan on the over-stuffed couch, debating with Jake that letting the family Cockatoo bear the rings in the wedding was indeed not a good idea. The sound of a carriage at the front drive startled the trio, who immediately moved to get Naomi safely tucked away from sight. She ran to the corner of the parlor; out of sight of the doorway. Jake went to open the door and Breagan stayed where he was to appear nothing was out of sorts. Just as Jake got to the door, Beatrice de Carmille opened it first; walking in as if she had an open invitation as was her way. She walked in far enough to see the object of her hunt lounging in a huge chair. She walked in a little further toward him before Jake stopped her.
 
“Miss Carmille, what are you doing? You do realize you've come to our vacation house and barged in uninvited? Have you gone mad?” Jake said, pulling her attention away from Naomi's direction. If she were to discover Naomi's precarious hiding spot in the corner of the room, they might have a problem on their hands. As it was, Naomi would be able to see Beatrice from her spot if she were to lean away from the wall far enough. Naomi did her best to keep the folds of her crimson and cream gown out of the woman's sight.
 
“I went by your house in town to invite you to a small town gathering, and your servant woman said that you were on vacation. Fortunately, I knew where your vacation house was, so here I am,” she said, spreading her arms wide triumphantly and stubbornly sticking to her act. She had been thinking about what to say to the obstinate Tyler family the whole way here. She had decided on the way that the simplest explanation was the best for her act. Waiting for a reply from Breagan, she thought she saw a flash of red coming from her left. What was that? She turned her head in a flash of copper hair, expecting to see Margaret in the corner of the room. She missed the sharp intake of breath coming from the men in the room at her action. Silly woman, that Margaret, standing in the corner like that, but...no one was there. Beatrice frowned. She turned her attention back to Breagan and saw his jaw twitch with irritation before he spoke to her.
 
“Beatrice,” he began, “I am on vacation. I went on vacation to get away from such invitations and other obligations for a time,” he explained slowly, trying to remain polite, “I've tried to be kind about it, but my patience is at an end. I have no desire to court you, Beatrice,” Breagan stood from his chair and walked over to show Beatrice out the door.
 
Beatrice stood in her spot for a moment milling over her options. She refused to admit defeat with such wealth right in front of her face. Well, that and the sexiest bachelor alive…
 
“Some other time, then,” she decided on as a reply, “I shall see you when you return home, Breagan,” she finished with a wink on her way out the door, pointedly ignoring his statement. She stepped into her carriage and looked out of the window toward the estate that she would love to call her own one day as the driver gave the horses the command to move forward. As she looked back at the house, she saw a flash of red again in the parlor window and shifted in her seat to get a better view. This time, she saw what it was; shocked to see a woman with long hair wearing a red and white dress in the Tyler's parlor.
 
She sat back in her seat with narrowed eyes as the house disappeared from view and she swore under her breath. No wonder she wasn't getting anywhere with Breagan.
 
That woman was not Margaret.
Beatrice doubted she was another sister, or she would have known about her. Her hair was too light, too. But why was she hiding from her? Beatrice had no answers forthcoming on that matter. Breagan would obviously be more than happy to introduce Beatrice to any intended and announce that he was no longer available. She would find out why that woman was hiding no matter what. Then maybe her competition would not be an issue anymore. That woman had to be the reason she wasn't already married to Breagan right now, and swimming in a fortune, she thought to herself. Her father's estate was pittance compared to what the Tyler family had amassed over the years. By now, Beatrice and her mother had depleted her father's estate left to them after his sudden passing. They had already been reduced to selling the possessions they had left to live off of. The possessions they had left were very valuable and would suffice for a while…just long enough to find a rich husband. Preferably one with a body like Breagan Tyler's.
 

 
 
A week soon passed by after Beatrice de Carmille's sudden intrusion with no more unexpected visitors, but not entirely without any incident. Breagan took Naomi horseback riding a couple of times, and she thoroughly enjoyed it each time.
 
Even though Breagan and Lancey had been best friends since childhood, Breagan still was under the notion that Lancey was being too friendly with Naomi. They had even broken out in a fist fight after one of their outings.
 
Lancey had helped Naomi down from the horse she had been riding, and kept his hands on Naomi longer than necessary, according to Breagan. He'd lunged at Lancey with a right hook and they had decked and ducked with each other, Lancey having a good laugh at Breagan's expense the entire time. They had been skirmishing for a good ten minutes before Naomi's yelling got through to them over the noise they were making. When the three of them came in from their ride, Jake had laughed long and hard when he saw both Breagan and Lancey dirty and beaten up. He'd kept chuckling halfway through the night.
 
He wasn't alone in his amusement given that Lancey had been snickering at Breagan's possessiveness over the girl the entire time. He knew it'd been a good idea to spark that fight…it had been a while since their last roll-in-the-dirt fight. Sure Lancey thought Naomi was a pretty girl and all, but he'd just wanted to have a good, dirty tussle with his life-long friend. His brother in life had needed some of his tension relieved, anyway.
 
 
Back home in Washington, Beatrice was out using up some of the money she and her mother had once more gotten by selling an old piece of furniture from their stash. She'd decided to treat herself to ease the blow of loosing her best candidate for a husband. Gorgeous, too, she begrudgingly noted. There weren't too many rich men in town that were also an immense pleasure to look at as Breagan Tyler was. Well, maybe I can get rid of that woman yet…
 
Her driver turned down the shortcut to her favorite dressmaker's store which happened to pass in front of the Tyler home.
 
"Rub it in, why don't you?" She grumbled to whoever might be listening, and looked away toward the opposite side of the street.
 
A familiar carriage crossed her vision and she did a double take, her eyes widening a fraction. Beatrice knew that it had been there the day that she'd gone to see Breagan only to be turned away from his old servant woman.
 
“Driver, stop!” she yelled when she saw a man sitting in that carriage with a pair of binoculars trained on the Tyler house. She thought she'd seen the same thing last week, but dismissed it as a trick of the eyes. Now she knew she was missing something.
 
Her driver pulled over to the side of the road in front of the carriage watching the house at her command. She poked her head out the window of her carriage to see that there was indeed a man watching the house. When he saw that he was being watched, he immediately ducked further into his carriage.
 
I wonder if this has anything to do with that woman they were hiding from me last week? She was hatching a plan: she had to find out if she was right. Getting out of the carriage, she told her driver to wait for her; she was going to say hello to a friend. Putting on her best clueless look, she sauntered across the sidewalk toward the man in the pain gray coach.
 
Beatrice's driver watched her show from his perch in the driver seat rolling his eyes. The woman had no shame.
 
She arrived at the coach and knocked on its door. The man inside jumped at the sound, having been stuck inside the coach undisturbed all day. He opened the door to her, and she began her act.
 
“Are you looking for someone?” she asked innocently.
 
The man looked back at the house after her question, then back to her, “Yes I am, doll. Are you lookin' for someone?” He asked, a leer on his face.
 
She brought a blush to her face, then continued her quest for answers, “If you are looking for the man who lives there, he's not home. He's on vacation. Didn't you notice?”
 
Jess instantly perked up at the possibility of inside information on the family, “Who are ya, doll? You know the Tylers?” he asked her.
 
Beatrice bounded her head in the affirmative, bouncing her shocking curls, “I do know the family. Are they in any trouble of some kind?” again she oozed innocence.
 
“One of `em is, sweet thing,” he leaned forward as if about to divulge a big secret, “I shouldn't be tellin' ya this, but I'm lookin' for a woman we think they're hiding. She was stolen from the man who hired me ta find her. He misses her very much,” he told her, laying it on real thick for the little bird so she might spill any information she might have.
 
Beatrice rolled her eyes at his sob story and instantly dropped her act, hiding the fact that she was ecstatic that she had solved the mystery of that woman with Breagan was so quickly. Leaning in toward the stinky man with a corrupt grin, she sealed the deal, “Take me to the man who hired you. I can tell you where she is.”