Under the Cowboy's Control by Lynda Chance Page A

that he would strip her and dress her himself. At the moment he said it, he had meant it.
    Now he knew he couldn't do that. No way could he trust himself to strip her. He was already on such a tight rope, that any wrong move would set him off.
    His heart rate slowly came down. He let the grace of her movements calm him.
    She was so dainty, so graceful, always in the background, never letting him get too close. It dawned on him that as innocent as she was, she knew what she was doing. She didn't stay away from him every day because she was mad at him. She didn't refuse to eat with him because she was full. She was staying out of his way solely because of the sexual tension between them. Because she couldn't control it either. The knowledge didn't help. If anything, it was just one more nail in his coffin.
    He slid away from the wall. "I'm going to go unpack the boxes."
    Selena let out of sigh of relief when he finally left the room. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. She finished up in the kitchen, and heard him banging around in the living room. When she couldn't put it off any longer, she walked through the living room toward her bedroom.
    "Goodnight," she tossed out as she slipped by.
    "Selena, wait." His voice stopped her in her tracks with the deep order.
    She halted, facing away from him, and briefly closed her eyes. Escape wasn't going to be so easy. If she could just learn to obey his commands, maybe he wouldn't lose his temper so quickly and move to grab her. The grabbing led to kissing, and the kissing led to things that couldn't happen. But it was so difficult. He was arrogant and conceited, and he set off her temper with his constant demands.
    He spoke to her now in that tone of voice that brooked no denial. "Come over here and see what you've got."
    Her shoulders stiffened and she turned back into the room. He was in front of the couch, with neat stacks of clothes sitting there in different colors and designs.
    Pure feminine curiosity had her moving closer. She wasn't going to wear them, but she could at least look.
    "A week's worth of clothing. I think I remembered everything you're going to need, but if not, just tell me." His voice was firm, implacable.
    A vision of what would happen if she flatly refused swept across her mind. The argument, the struggle, him physically touching her. It was too dangerous to contemplate.
    She gritted her teeth. She walked over to the couch and ran her hands over the stacks of jeans, shorts, tops, and nightwear. There were also swimsuits and underwear. A deep blush slashed across her cheeks when she thought about him ordering them for her. They looked to be exactly her size, and how he knew that knocked her off balance. She didn't want to think about him going into her room and looking over the single change of clothing she owned. Equally distressing was the idea of him sizing her up in his head, thinking about the width of her hips and the size of her breasts.
    Travis held himself immobile and waited to see how this was going to play out. He had already decided that he wouldn't lay one finger on her. But she didn't know that. Their eyes met and she nodded her head, once.
    " Gracias , Travis." Her voice was soft.
    He immediately noticed the small rebellion. She purposely spoke the Spanish word to maintain some control. He decided to let it pass, if she accepted the clothes.
    She did.
    She scooped her arms around the stack of underwear and swimsuits first and headed to her room.
    He grabbed the rest and followed her down the hallway. She moved to the chest of drawers and opened the top drawer and dumped her armful in. He dropped the articles he held on top of the bed.
    "Let me know if you need anything else," he drawled, and turned away to make his escape.
    Selena went through the clothes and quickly calculated in her mind the amount of work she had done for him. From this, she subtracted room and board. There wasn't much left. She would wear one article of