Under the Cowboy's Control Page 3

  Her legs were slim and looked like silk. His eyes travelled up, and he could see the edge of her panties, covering the feminine softness. The shadow of soft hair made his guts clench. The women he had been with in the last few years were all highly experienced, and it was the fashion for them to be free of hair. The sight of her, semi-exposed to his gaze, hit him as completely innocent, intensely feminine and highly desirable.

  His eyes moved to the tiny waist and the soft swell of her breasts. She looked delicate and fragile, and he wondered at just how she had come into his possession. Her face was very bruised, but the darkness made it almost impossible to see how severe the damage was. She had either pulled the baseball cap off, or it had come off with her movements, and it lay neglected on the floor beside the bed. He bent and picked it up and put it on the bedside table. Then he realized he would be able to see her hair, and he looked again. He exhaled a sharp hiss from deep in his throat. Her hair was still in a ponytail, but it was long and silky and lay against her white skin. He imagined what it would be like, loose and flowing down around her.

  She slept on while he continued to study her. Emotions he hadn't expected washed through him. She reminded him of a small injured bird he had found when he was a boy. The fierce need to protect, to heal, ran through his system. And a disturbing need to stroke, to pet. His heart beat loudly in his chest.

  He needed to get her well, so he could set her free.

  Selena woke once after midnight with another urge for the bathroom. When she came out, she saw the tray of food on the desk, lit up by the moonlight shining from the window. She was hungry and didn't want it to ruin.

  She sat in the chair and picked up the spoon and began to eat. Again, the soup soothed her stomach. When she was almost finished, she wondered about the man who put it there for her. Knowing he had come into the room while she slept, a slight shiver ran through her. She felt something she couldn't identify. Her breathing fractured and her hand shook while she took the last few bites.

  Her need for sleep was still paramount, and she put the disturbing thoughts aside and climbed back into bed.

  Twelve hours of sleep had refreshed her, and she woke early the next morning, with the need to feel clean again. If anything, her right side was more stiff this morning, but she knew she needed to move to get the kinks out. She gingerly got out of bed, retrieved her backpack, and went through to the little bathroom.

  She took her clothes off and dropped them to the floor and stepped into the shower tub combination. The water pulsed from the showerhead and Selena rinsed the dirt and grime off, before filling the tub with hot water and sinking in all the way to her neck. The water felt heavenly. She soaked her sore muscles for about twenty minutes and then washed herself thoroughly. She shampooed her hair twice, and used the luxurious conditioner. It tamed her hair and made it smooth and silky.

  When she was finished bathing, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and combed her hair out, and then washed out the four dirty garments she had been wearing.

  Rinsing them in the sink one by one, she wrung them out and laid them over the tub to dry. Then, she slipped her extra set of clothes on. She reapplied the antibiotic ointment, and she found an unscented lotion and applied it to the rest of her face. Her bruised eye was startling, and she brushed her hair loosely, to cover part of her eye and the side of her face. On the good side of her face, she tucked her hair behind her ear and let it flow down her back.

  She was as ready as she could be. She wasn't going to stay in this room for two or three days and let the man Travis wait on her. It was bad enough being a charity case, but she refused to be a lazy one at that. Quietly, she opened the door and walked out of the room.

  When she came to an open bedroom door, she stopped and peeked inside and saw a large body, sprawled on the bed, asleep. Her breath caught at the naked chest, and she hurried away to explore and find the kitchen.

  The house wasn't big, even though it was called the big house. It contained three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, dining area, and mudroom with laundry. It was masculine, with large sturdy furniture, and was made from wood and brick, as was the American way. Everything was on one story, and there were no stairs to climb. Half of the living room was obviously used as his study, with a large desk and leather chair. A state of the art computer system sat on top.

  Selena ran her hand over the smooth top of the desk and looked at the desktop computer. It didn't take her long to identify the Internet Explorer button among the many icons on the screen. Thank God. She could still be connected to the world, if she cared to be. In fact, it had been days since she checked her email.

  She slipped around the desk and quietly pulled out the big chair, telling herself she wasn't doing anything wrong. Just using his computer for a minute. She logged on with a few strokes of her fingers and within seconds was reading an email that was two days old. Her eyes filled with tears, as her friend Maria recited the new deaths from her old neighborhood.

  A light switched on and Travis stood in the doorway. "What are you doing?"

  Selena was totally horrified by the surge of feelings running through her. She was near tears, trying to assimilate the deaths of her childhood friends, and watching him looking at her accusingly from the doorway. He stood there half naked, with his bronzed, muscular chest exposed. A small trail of dark hair weaved its way down to his jeans, which was all he wore, and were zipped, but not buttoned.

  The English words that she tried to answer him with got clogged in her throat. Her mind went blank and all she could do was point to the screen as the tears began to silently spill from her eyes.

  Travis saw the tears and confusion on her face and felt like a total bastard. He walked over to her and looked at the screen. The words were in Spanish, but it was obviously her email account, and whatever she was reading there had upset her again.

  He reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek, trying to offer some measure of consolation. It wasn't something he was used to doing. "Okay, Angel. You take your time here. I'll go make some coffee."

  She wiped the tears off her cheeks, and tried to smile at him. It was a shaky attempt at best, and he took it as confirmation that she understood.

  He turned and went to the kitchen, leaving her alone with her pain. Going through the motions of making coffee, he sat in a kitchen chair waiting for it to perk. He closed his eyes and put his head in his hands, but the vision of her staring at his naked chest began to arouse him. He stood up and went to the mudroom and grabbed a shirt off a peg. He shrugged his shoulders in it, and went and got two cups from the cabinet. One he filled with creamer and lots of sugar, and the other he left empty, ready for black coffee.

  A few minutes later, he was just beginning to pour the coffee when he felt her behind him. She stood in the doorway. The tears were in check, but ragged emotion still churned on her face. This was the first time he had seen her standing and was taken aback at how slight she appeared. Only a few inches over five feet, she was amazingly slender, with a tiny waist, softly curving hips, and small, delicate breasts.

  It totally floored him that she had made it on her own all the way from Laredo, and God knew how far before that, still in one piece. This was rough country, with drug runners, desperate illegals, and the border patrol everywhere. Not to mention the rattlesnakes and coyotes. He thanked God she had escaped serious harm and had fallen into his hands.

  A disturbing feeling of possessiveness ran through his system. He tried to shake it off. She reminded him of that little bird again. Something he badly wanted to touch, but knew he couldn't.

  "You okay, Angel?" His voice was deep, rusty from sleep and the sight before him.

  She hesitated on the threshold. " Si, y-yes."

  Was she telling him the truth?

  He watched her standing there, and she stared back at him for a moment.

  Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, Travis filled the coffee cups and put them on the table. He sat back down and
motioned for her to do the same.

  Selena walked forward, noticing the shirt that now hung from his shoulders, but wasn't buttoned and hung open down his front. She averted her gaze. This was not proper. She swallowed and reminded herself that she had bigger problems than a man who wouldn't button his shirt.

  Travis studied her as she picked up the coffee cup and softly blew on it. The right side of her face was a mess, but she had hidden most of it with her hair. The rest of her was stunning. With that gorgeous, dark hair hanging loose and down to her waist, she was a vision of loveliness. Accented by her hair, her face became exotic and vibrant. Her eyes were huge violet pools of color, slanted like a cat's. Her nose was perfectly feminine, straight but with a slight curve that pronounced her beauty.

  Her mouth was luscious, provocatively so.

  His heart beat faster.

  Selena looked up from the coffee in her cup. He was staring at her, cataloging her features, one by one. She wondered what he saw. Her parents had thought her pretty, her father always teasing her about keeping her hidden away from all the boys who would want to marry her and steal her from them.

  And the last three years, they had kept her hidden away. Nuevo Laredo was a highly dangerous place, with the drug cartel running loose and nothing to keep them in check. She was kept a virtual prisoner in her home, for her own safety. She had none of the usual experiences of girls her age. No boyfriends, no dates, no kisses. Her family wouldn't let her leave the house, not even for Mass or to buy groceries. She spent her time reading and chatting with friends on the internet. But that was it. She hadn't had any sort of a life for years. She had never known a truly safe time, not since she had left school.

  And then, one by one, her family had been killed, and she had to leave when she ran out of food. The recent memory was horrendous. She pushed it from her mind.

  And now here she was.

  She wanted to work, to not be beholden to him for anything.

  She cleared her throat. "M-Mister T-Travis--"

  He cut off her efforts. "Travis. Just Travis. Not mister. Not boss. You understand?"

  She nodded her head. " Si. Travis" She took a deep breath to begin. "Work." She paused and placed her hand on her chest and patted it lightly. "I work. For you?"

  She looked away from him, at the kitchen that she knew she could handle. She was a good cook.

  He glared at the young woman in front of him. Her fragility was obvious. God only knew what kind of trauma she had endured. "No. You don't work for me. You get well for me. You rest. You sleep. You play on the internet. But you don't lift a finger for me. You understand?" He barked the words at her and her spine stiffened and tears came to her eyes again.

  Her mouth wobbled and she nodded her head. She looked down at her lap and a tear fell and hit her hand.

  "Fuck." He growled the word.

  She flinched when she recognized the basic American profanity she had heard her brother use when he was angry. She scrunched her eyes shut and more tears fell.

  His chair scraped back, and he came over to her. He wrapped his hand around her chin and lifted it. Her eyes stayed screwed shut. "Open your eyes, Selena."

  She let out a ragged breath and slowly opened her eyes. They glistened with tears and anxiety. She brought him into focus.

  He knelt down in front of her. "I'm sorry." The apology was direct, straightforward.

  His fingers bit into her chin as he tried to say more. He was no good at this sort of thing. He didn't have any experience dealing with the finer emotions. His thumb caressed her chin, back and forth. Her soft skin under his fingers was silky. He tightened his hand on her and felt her gasp. Her eyes flared.

  Electricity arced between them.

  He dropped his hand and stepped away from her. "Why don't you go back to your room and rest? I'll bring you a tray after while." He needed her away from him for now. His emotions were too raw, jumping all over the place.

  She nodded her head and stood up to leave the room.

  He stopped her at the door. "Selena." His voice was deep, direct. "Don't leave the house today. Stay in your room. Nothing has changed out there. They still think you're a boy."

  He left her no chance for debate. The order was irrefutable. "Y-yes, Travis."

  She slipped away.

  ****

  An hour later, Selena sat in the middle of the made up bed with her Bible in front of her. It was opened to her favorite Psalm twenty-three, and mementos from her early years lay in front of her.

  Travis tapped on her door and swung it open. He walked over to the desk and laid a tray of food there. "Here you go." He looked over at what she was doing. "Do you need anything else?"

  She shook her head.

  He turned and walked back out.

  The next two days followed the same pattern. Selena slept and rested. Each morning, she washed out the clothes she wore, and put on her clean set. Travis brought her food. He barely spoke.

  She didn't leave her room, or go back to the kitchen. She hunkered down in the bedroom and tried to stay as inconspicuous as she could. She read her Bible, and tried to plan what work she could do when she got back to Laredo. If she could improve her English, she would be fully bilingual, and that would help. She could type close to a hundred words a minute, and she had dual citizenship. Surely she could find something better than the fast food industry. She tried to figure out how much money she would need to get to Houston. Or if she even needed to get to Houston. She had no proof her grandparents were even still alive, let alone wanted to see her.

  Travis had to brace himself every time he knocked on her door and walked in. He was scared of what he might find. One morning, she had been taking a bath. Even though the bathroom door was closed and probably locked, he felt it like a kick in the gut. She was wet and naked on the other side of that door. He had left her food and slammed out of the room, and then out of the house, where he had worked himself to the bone for the next six hours.

  Another time she was sound asleep on the bed in the middle of the day. There was no reason she shouldn't be. It was, after all, what she had been instructed to do. To rest. But the purity of her face, and the utter defenselessness of her posture played havoc with his anatomy. He found himself next to her bed, and reaching out to touch her before he realized what he was doing and stopped himself.

  He spent the next three hours mucking out stalls, something the youngest hand, Clinton, usually did.

  By the fourth full day, Travis's nerves were wearing thin. When he knocked and walked in the room that morning, he found her sitting in the middle of the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees, glaring at him.

  The bruises were almost gone. Only a slight yellow and purple color marred her face. Her beauty became more obvious every day. He had to make a decision. He couldn't keep her in this room forever.

  He put the tray down, and pulled the chair over to the side of the bed and sat down, facing her.

  Her glare became more heated. He laughed.

  Selena stared at him as the laugh lines creased his eyes and the austerity on his face relaxed. She had never seen him laugh before. He had barely cracked a smile since she had met him. She was intrigued. Growing angry, but intrigued.

  "Okay, Angel. Let's have it. You look purely pissed at me." He leaned back in the chair, stretched his legs out and crossed his hands behind his head and waited.

  He didn't have to wait long. Impatience exploded from her. She came to her knees in the middle of the bed and said, "I will work now."

  He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Well, let's get one thing straight. You work when I say you can work. I give the orders around here. You take the orders. As long as you're on my ranch, you do what I say. You can leave if you want, but where would you go? You don't have any money. You don't have any transportation. You can't speak proper English. From where I sit, you don't have many options, Angel."

  Her face turned red with frustration and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.


  She started taking deep breaths and her breasts strained against her shirt. She was about to detonate.

  Travis watched her in fascination. Images of her bringing that naked emotion to his bed exploded in his brain. He saw her under him, over him, kneeling in front of him.

  He ruthlessly pushed the thought away and pushed his feet to the floor and stood over her.

  "Here's what we're going to do. You want to work so bad, you can start doing the cooking for us. I don't have time anyway. Do you know how to cook, Selena?"

  She answered him with one swift nod, up and down.

  "Okay. That should make you happy. But that won't take long, because I'm easy to please. I'll eat whatever you put in front of me. But I eat a lot, so I want three large meals a day, and plenty of snacks and desserts to go along with them. When you're not in the kitchen, you're going to be on that computer, learning how to speak English. I want you to buy and download any software you need. I don't want to hear any shit about it. I don't know who the hell let you get away without learning in the past, but it stops now. You understand every word I say. You follow me no matter how fast I talk. From now on, every word that comes out of your mouth better be in English. You're not leaving this ranch until you know how."

  Selena straightened her spine. Her eyes spit fire at him. One English word came to mind. But she wouldn't say it. She didn't dare. She gritted her teeth and in her best American accent purred, "Yes, Travis."

  Lust hit Travis at her conciliatory tone. Conciliatory, but sarcastic. His eyes narrowed and he reached out a hand and snagged her wrist. "I'm going to warn you once, Selena. Don't take me on. Don't think you can win with me, because you can't. You might not like the outcome of an altercation with me." His grip tightened.

  "We're going to play this one way and one way only. I say jump, and you say how high, got that?"

  She pulled on her wrist. He didn't let go. "Yes," she hissed.