She was dressed today in a pair of new white jeans, and a short sleeve floral blouse. Flat, gold sandals were on her feet. It was the closest thing to nice clothes that came in the boxes he had purchased for her. It didn't matter, because he was in Wranglers and a short sleeve button down. It didn't matter because she looked beautiful no matter what she wore. It didn't matter because the clothes were coming off the second they made it home.
He pulled the truck up to the front of the house instead of the back. "Wait there," he growled.
Travis walked around the truck and opened the door for his new bride. He reached his arms in and lifted her out. He carried her all the way to the front door and pushed it open. He kicked it closed with his boot and carried her through the living room and down the short hallway to his bedroom.
Their bedroom. He had made her transfer all her stuff that morning, while he watched with a deep, possessive satisfaction.
He strode over to the bed, and dropped her there. She scrambled to her knees and faced him, her breathing tortured.
Selena watched in horror as Travis started unbuttoning his shirt. She had something to tell him that couldn't wait. She should have told him in the truck, but she didn't know how to say it. She still didn't. But she was out of time. Her insides churned, and she hated for a moment her complete innocence. She didn't know how to handle this problem.
"T-Travis. Wait." Her voice shook.
He paused, a harsh look coming over his features. "Wait?" He gritted his teeth.
"Why?"
A dark blush rose up her face. "R-Remember S-Sunday? When I--When I w-was f-feeling b-bad?"
"Yeah, so?" The last button came undone.
"Well, this is only Thurs--Thursday." Her voice was soft, her eyes troubled.
Travis studied her face and the puzzle of what she was trying to tell him finally hit him with a punch so hard he thought he might double over. "You're still bleeding?"
The question was rough, forceful.
Embarrassment had her lowering her eyes. "Yes."
He answered her instantly, his voice deep. "It's fine. I don't care." He reached out for her.
She stiffened. Deep violet pools of color looked up at him in a face gone white. Her voice shook. "P-Please, Travis, I don't think--"
"When? How much longer do I have to wait?"
"Saturday. I should be f-fine on Saturday," she answered him.
Travis watched her holding herself so still and wondered how he was going to make it until Saturday. He would, because he refused to traumatize her, and he could tell that having to accommodate him for the first time during her period would upset her. Jesus Christ, but that was six days of bleeding a month. He couldn't go without her for six days a month.
Her sexual education needed to begin, and soon.
He took a deep breath and silently counted to ten. When he was calmer, he reached out and threaded his hand through her hair and brought her face to his. He brushed her lips lightly and gave her a grim excuse for a smile. "Okay."
He shoved his hat on his head and walked from the room.
Chapter Eight
That evening, after supper, Travis worked for about an hour on the books. He looked at the huge number in black star
ing up at him. Intense satisfaction went through him. Man, it was easy doing the books when you were in the black. And in the black in a big way. Finding oil on the ranch had been an accident, but three years later, the black stuff still gushed up, and the money still rolled in. It was like icing on the cake. Now he had investments all over South Texas.
He stood and stretched and went to find Selena. She wasn't in the kitchen, and he knew she hadn't gone back to the bedrooms, so he left the house and went to find her in the implement barn.
The sun was setting, a deep red glow in the west, and he quickened his stride. He needed his eyes to adjust to the dimness while there was still a bit of light left in the barn.
He pushed open the barn door and went inside. "Selena?" He hissed her name in a questioning whisper.
Her answer was an even lighter whisper back. "I'm here, Travis."