“But that’s all I am to you,” she replied, fighting tears. “It’s not enough to make a marriage. At the first sign of trouble, what’s to prevent you from bolting again, just like you did when you saw me with Brian? You don’t trust me. You don’t want me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he said, straightening and walking slowly toward her with a look that flat-out contradicted her claim.

Melissa held her ground. If she backed down now, if she showed him any hint of weakness, he would win. The prize was more than her pride, more than her body. The prize they were warring over was her daughter.

Cody’s advance was slow and deliberate. His eyes, dark as coal in the shadow of the house, seemed to sear her with their intensity. His lips formed a straight, tight line. Anger and frustration radiated from every masculine pore.

When he neared to within a few scant inches, the heat from his body enveloped her, tugging at her like a powerful magnet. And still she held her ground.

“I want you, Me...liss...a,” he said quietly. “Make no doubt about that.”

She shivered under his slow, leisurely, pointed inspection. Her skin sizzled under that hot gaze. The peaks of her breasts hardened. Moisture gathered between her thighs. Her entire body responded as if he’d stroked and caressed every inch of her. She ached to feel his fingers where his gaze had been. And still, unbelievably, she held her ground.

Her breath snagged, then raced. Her pulse skittered crazily. She longed for someplace to sit or lean, anything to keep her weak knees from giving away her shakiness.

“Tempted, Me...liss...a?”

“No,” she squeaked, hating herself for not making the response firmer, more emphatic.

“Remember how it felt to have me inside you?” he taunted, hands jammed into his pockets, deliberately stretching faded denim over the unmistakable ridge of his arousal.

Her gaze locked on that evidence of his desire. A matching hunger rocketed through her. She swallowed hard, clenching her fists so tightly she was certain she must be drawing blood. But still she held her ground.

“In there, on that big, old, feather mattress,” he reminded her silkily. “Our legs all tangled, our bodies slick with sweat. Remember, Me...liss...a?”

Oh, sweet heaven, she thought, desperately trying to replace his images with other, safer memories of her own. Memories of being alone and scared, when she realized she was pregnant. Memories of staring at a phone that never rang as day after day, then month after month ticked by. Thinking of that, she steadied herself and held her ground.

She leveled a look straight into eyes that blazed with passion and said, “It won’t work, Cody. We can’t resolve this in bed.”

He reached out then, skimmed his knuckles lightly along her cheek and watched her shiver at the touch. “You sure about that, darlin’?”