Cowboy Payback by Donna Michaels

obstacle. So was showing weakness. For some reason, the woman seemed to think asking for help was a sure sign. No doubt a result from growing up in a household with four, tough, older brothers. Not to mention her former D.A. dad.
    Sometimes showing weakness was a detriment, like in war. But not in this case. This was different. This was the home front. His morale officer needed to heal. But if he asked her to stay to do just that, she’d politely decline and be gone by sunrise.
    Not happening.
    Damn woman was one of his marines who needed help, and by God, he was going to help. He just needed to figure out a way to turn this around, to make her think he needed her to stay to help him out. He knew the corporal and the way her thought process worked. She wouldn’t stay to help herself, but she’d sure as shit agree to help him or anyone else from their unit.
    Feeling better and more in control, Brett entered the main ranch and headed straight for the activity director’s office, a plan already forming in his mind.
    Several hours later, he rushed from the guest ranch with the week’s schedule mapped out and a clear idea on how to turn Operation Payback into Operation Payoff . He just needed to get the corporal to agree. She would—it was a win/win for them both.
    As he crossed the drive, he noted his cabin was dark, and a stab of guilt rippled through his gut. He’d left his fiancée alone a few hours more than he’d intended. Not that she needed babysitting. Still, he hadn’t meant to be a jerk. She was new around here. With Cammie away, the corporal wouldn’t know anyone.
    But his delay had been unavoidable. There were a lot more clients coming in this week than normal. Scheduling was tougher than usual. Finn had a good plan laid out, but a group from some packing company in New Jersey had called on Friday, demanding to be fit in since Royal Pines had had to cancel their trip back in the spring due to flooding. Apparently, this was the only other week the group could make it.
    Pulling out his phone, he pressed the screen button and noted the time. Ten seventeen. Not extremely late. Jennings must be tired, though. It had been one hell of a trying day. He expelled a breath on a grunt. Weekend . The whole damn weekend had been trying.
    Thanks to the misunderstanding between Finn and Cammie, Brett hadn’t had much relaxation since he got home from deployment on Friday.
    Yawning, he stepped onto the porch and shoved the phone back in his pocket. His ass was dragging.
    With a careful turn of the knob, he entered quietly, not surprised to find the lights out, except for the one above the sink. The tiny glow cast a soft light about the cabin. The place was clean. No table covered in red. No champagne, flutes, dishes, chairs, or basket. The corporal even took care of the damn rose petals. Every last one.
    Of course she did. She was a marine. Pride and some other emotion he refused to dissect warmed his blood. Corporal Jennings knew when to take orders, and when to take initiative. Smiling, he inhaled, enjoying the pleasant fragrance that still remained.
    “Everything okay?”
    Not anymore.
    The soft, husky timber of her voice awoke the sleeping giant. He shifted his stance to accommodate the sudden thickening in his jeans and noted the sexy woman’s location. Not good. A spark of anger replaced the guilt settled in his gut.
    “Get up,” he replied, tone more clipped than he’d intended.
    A second later, he was ready to belay that order.
    Scrambling from the pullout sofa, the corporal stood before him in nothing but a gray T-shirt that hit mid-thigh with a Marine Corps logo on the chest. A braless chest. One with a mouth-watering bounce. And two perky nipples.
    Ah, hell.
    Then there was the matter of her legs, all bare and curvy, soft and supple, begging for a caress. They didn’t beg, but he sure as hell wanted to touch them, starting at the ankle, slowly making his way up to her…
    “Sir? What’s wrong?”
    He