He dipped his hand in the scant remaining water that was actually in the tub and splattered it straight in Melissa’s smug face. A startled, incredulous expression spread across her face.

“You brat,” she muttered, turning on the faucet in the sink and scooping up a handful of water to pour over his head.

Sharon Lynn squealed with glee as water splashed everywhere.

Cody nabbed a plastic cup from the counter behind him, dipped it into the bathwater and soaked Melissa’s front. Only after the damp bathrobe clung to her body did he realize the mistake he’d made. His breath snagged in his throat at the sight of her nipples hardening beneath that suddenly transparent silk. He swallowed hard, aware of the tightening in his groin and the flood of color climbing into his cheeks—and equally aware of the impossibility of pursuing the desire rocketing through him.

Melissa’s gaze locked with his for what seemed an eternity, then dropped to the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. A smile slowly tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Serves you right,” she taunted as she turned and padded off to her room.

Cody groaned and wished like crazy that he knew Melissa’s neighbors so he could plead with them to baby-sit for the rest of the morning. He wanted to finish what she had started with that provocative taunt.

Instead he forced himself to concentrate on getting Sharon Lynn dried off and dressed. The task was somewhat complicated by the soaked condition of his own clothes. He was dripping everywhere.

As soon as he had his daughter settled in her playpen, he grabbed a towel, went into the laundry room, stripped, and tossed his clothes into the dryer. He wrapped the towel snugly around his waist and retreated to the kitchen to drink another cup of coffee while he waited for everything to dry.

When Melissa wandered in a few minutes later her mouth gaped. “Where are your clothes?” she demanded, her gaze riveted on his bare chest.

“In the dryer.”

“Get them out.”

“I can’t wear damp clothes,” he observed.

“Whose fault is it they’re wet?”

“Yours, as a matter of fact,” he said blithely. “You’re the one who insisted I bathe Sharon Lynn. You obviously know what she’s like in water.”

She fought a grin and lost. “Yeah, I do,” she admitted. “But, Cody, you cannot sit around in nothing but a towel.”

“You have any better ideas?” He didn’t wait for any suggestions from her before adding, “We could go back to bed.”

“In your dreams.”

He deliberately caught her gaze. “Absolutely,” he said softly. “You have no idea how vivid my dreams have become lately.”