But she’d do whatever she must to make Jack happy and save their marriage.

  That same thought had her heading to the sewing machine she’d set up in the spare bedroom, instead of climbing into bed.

  Sunlight penetrated his lids. Jack frowned. What the hell time was it?

  He cracked an eye. Hazy light added soft gray shadows to the room through the half-moon window above the bed. It was early, before seven.

  Jack rolled over to take Morgan in his arms. He loved her relaxed and sleep-soft, skin like velvet, smelling like ripe woman and a hint of raspberries that never failed to make him hard.

  But she wasn’t there. Her side of the bed was cold. Instead, he saw only the flogger he’d been too tired to wield on her tender ass last night.

  Fuck.

  Jack suspected that insecurity had been eating her up the last few months. He didn’t like the distance he’d glimpsed in her eyes last night. The worry and hurt. He’d been awake nearly twenty-four hours when he’d collapsed into bed last night. But that was no excuse. He’d fallen asleep on Morgan. He’d completely let her down.

  Double fuck.

  Flipping back the covers, he tucked the flogger in the nightstand—for now. A glance at her smooth pillow told him that Morgan hadn’t slept here at all. Worry and self-rebuke ripped through his chest. Had she been so hurt and pissed off that she’d chosen to sleep anywhere but beside him?

  He had to make this up to Morgan, prove to his fiery, blue-eyed wife how very much he wanted her every single day.

  Grabbing his navy robe and stepping into the slippers he kept near the bed in the winter, he tore out of the master.

  The family room was empty, the cushions on the sofa looking undisturbed. Jack didn’t spot her in the kitchen, either. He frowned. Had one of the kids been sick during the night?

  He backtracked, racing down the hall. In her crib, Lacey lay on her stomach, propped up on her arms. She wore a broad grin and flashing her one tooth.

  Dashing over, her scooped her up. “Morning, peanut. Have you seen your mommy?”

  She cooed in answer. But her wet diaper gave Jack the answer.

  Worry eating at his gut, he kissed the top of his daughter’s head and ducked into Brice’s room. The boy didn’t look as if he’d moved since late last night. His deep, even breathing told Jack that his son still slumbered on.

  Which was great, but where was Morgan?

  He pit-stopped in Lacey’s room for a quick diaper change, then set her on a blanket in her bedroom with a stuffed animal and some fluffy cloth blocks. This trick wouldn’t work once the crawling started, but it would buy him five minutes now.

  Darting back across the house, he checked the garage. Her car was still inside, her purse on the bench in the laundry room where she often left it. Jack breathed a little sigh of relief. What would he have done if she’d been gone? Chased her down to the ends of the earth. He loved his wife and wasn’t about to let her go over a misunderstanding he would be more than happy to clear up with a few hours between the sheets.

  “Damn it, where are you?” he asked into the silence.

  He spotted his phone on the kitchen counter and grabbed it, hitting his speed dial. Morgan’s device rang not five feet from him, on the counter near the coffee maker.

  The only place he hadn’t looked was the spare bedroom. He couldn’t think of a single reason she’d be in there. It didn’t have a bed. Half the space was dedicated to her crafts, the other half to his home office.

  He charged across the kitchen and headed down the hall on the far side of the house. Apprehension seized him by the throat as he pushed open the creaking door.

  There Morgan slept, slumped over her sewing machine, every light in the room still burning bright.

  Relief poured through him before confusion set in. What the hell had she been making that was more important than her sleep?

  Jack raced across the room. Something white, trimmed in lace and glitter, draped across the table, cascaded over her limp hands, and fell into her lap. It looked like…lingerie.

  On the craft table beside her, he saw a matching thong. On the mannequin in the corner, he spotted silky angel wings, complete with a few leftover white feathers near a glue gun. A pair of white patent stilettos sat at the plastic figure’s feet.

  Instantly, Jack understood—and felt as if he’d been punched in the chest. Morgan had thought she needed to stay awake all night and make frilly garments to entice him. She’d been willing to give up much-needed rest, despite having a full day of Christmas celebrations and cooking ahead of her, all to please the husband who had failed her as a man.

  Maybe because he had failed her as a man.

  What had he ever done to deserve such a woman? He loved her with his whole heart. He’d long ago given her his soul. Now he had to prove that in the ways she needed.

  Jack didn’t remember ever feeling more guilty and unworthy. He could only imagine what she’d been thinking last night, exhausted and sewing her heart out to please the wretch who’d seemingly chosen his bed over her body.

  He sure as hell intended to make it up to her ASAP.

  Bending, he scooped his wife up in his arms. She moaned and half opened her eyes. The shadows underneath worried him.

  “Go back to sleep, cher,” he whispered.

  She melted against him, head on his shoulder. Her breathing evened out. Even settling her into their bed and covering her up didn’t disrupt her soft exhalations. Deep down, she still trusted him, still listened to him as her husband and Master, thank God.

  Shutting the door behind him, Jack made coffee, gave Lacey her first bottle of the morning, called his mother, then headed to Brice’s room just in time to find him stirring.

  He helped his little man into a fresh diaper and clean clothes, then settled onto the floor with his children and their toys. This morning he would devote to the kids, the afternoon to their extended family and celebration. But tonight…he intended to dedicate every moment to his wife and her pleasure. He would remind her just how fucking much he wanted to love her all the time, in every single way.

  Morgan jolted awake to bright sunlight streaming through the cozy bedroom. The bed smelled like Jack…but she didn’t see him anywhere. Frowning, she sat up and stared at the clock. Was it really after ten?

  “Damn. The kids. And it’s Christmas morning!”

  She still wore the bathrobe she’d slipped on after her shower. She certainly didn’t remember coming to bed.

  And she’d missed out on her own children discovering their presents from Santa. It was Lacey’s first holiday season and the first one Brice might understand.

  “What kind of mother sleeps through that?” Morgan bolted to her feet and charged out the door, her footfalls slapping against the hardwood floors.

  “In here.” Jack’s voice resounded from Brice’s room at the end of the hall.

  She went running. Of course, her little boy would be playing with some of his new toys. If she was lucky, she would be able to see his first trike ride…but what were the odds anyone had been able to talk her rambunctious toddler into waiting?

  “Why did you let me sleep?” she asked as she charged into the room.

  Jack looked like a picture perfect dad—protective, doting, in control of the situation. He played beside the kids, who were tremendously happy and quiet. He looked so damn handsome, too. After just rolling out of bed, she must look like home-grown hell, hair askew, remnants of yesterday’s mascara still smudged under her eyes.

  “Because you needed it.” Jack eased to his feet. “Merry Christmas, mon amour.”

  When he wrapped her in his arms, Morgan clasped him close and held tight. She inhaled him into her nostrils and pressed her lips into his sharp jaw. The faint taste of his salty skin lingered on her lips. His heart beat sure and strong against her. She breathed against him, with him. He was her home.

  What would she do if he didn’t love her the way he used to?

  “Merry Christmas. The kids… Have they eaten? Seen their presents and—”

  “Everything is fine. I fed Brice some eggs and Cheerios about an hour ago. They haven’t seen their presents. I moved the big ones from Santa into the garage. You needed sleep, so I made sure you got it.” He took her face in his hands. “I’m so incredibly sorry about giving out on you last night. More than I can say. I will make it up to you. I love you and I want you, I swear.”

  Her breath caught. Hope unfurled. Jack had never been one to lie. A hundred times Morgan had considered simply asking how he felt about her and her post-pregnancy body but because he refused to mince words, she had been too afraid. Now, the sincerity in his dark eyes and the steel in his voice told her that she’d worried for nothing.

  Tears pooled, rolled down her cheeks as she threw herself against her husband with a relieved sob.

  He ruffled her hair, kissed her forehead, and nuzzled his cheek to hers. “I never meant to make you doubt me. We’re busy, yes. But I’m never too busy for you. If you’re ever worried about us again, tell me. Don’t waste your time staying up all night to make something designed to entice me. You breathing, naked, and willing is all I’ll ever need.”

  She clutched him. “Jack…”

  The thousand things she didn’t know how to say to him echoed in that one word.

  “I know,” he promised before he kissed her softly.

  The ringing of the doorbell broke them apart.

  Morgan jerked away. “Who is that? Your parents weren’t coming until noon. I’m not ready. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet. Nothing is in the oven yet. Shit!”

  When she would have run out of the room to find some way to do everything at once, he pulled her back. “My parents are here early because I called and asked for their help. Go put yourself together. We’ll handle the kids, start the dinner, and unwrap presents when you’re ready.”

  “But that’s too much to put on you. You’re tired, too. And I can’t make your mom pick up the slack—”

  “Morgan, that’s an order.” Then he softened his voice. “Please, cher. I intend to give you what you need. It’s my pleasure.”

  This man had been her everything from the moment she’d set eyes on him. She should never have doubted his love or commitment for a moment. In that moment, she was more grateful than she could express. “Thank you.”

  He gave her a wry smile. “Of course. Just be aware, you’ll be repaying me later.”

  After a beautiful Christmas day full of presents, family, food, laughter, and the comforts of home, Brice and Lacey didn’t balk at all about an early bedtime. After a snack and a bath, they both crashed. Morgan looked at the clock. Just after seven p.m.

  She turned to her husband. “They went down early.”

  “They did. Now that we’re alone, I hope you have enough energy to go all night. That’s how long I intend to make love to you. Wait in our room, naked and kneeling on our bed.”

  She gasped and forgot how to breathe. “Now? Don’t you have to work tonight?”

  “Deke is taking over the op until morning. I’ll relieve him at the office then. Anything else?”

  His tone subtly warned she better not have any more rebuttals, but Morgan couldn’t be silent. “I need another hour in the craft room. I was making—”

  “I know what you were doing. I found you using your sewing machine as a pillow this morning.” Disapproval tightened Jack’s face.

  So she hadn’t actually made her way to the bed. Morgan winced. She hated that her surprise was spoiled but she knew his expression would translate into the kind of delicious discipline that would leave her humming and sore for days. “I can finish it quickly.”

  He shook his head. “No, you won’t be going anywhere near that craft table tonight. I gave you an order.”

  “But I wanted to be your Christmas angel. I wanted to look good for you.” Didn’t he understand?

  “You’re my angel every day and you always look good as far as I’m concerned. I haven’t done a good job of showing you that lately, but you don’t need to look like a Victoria’s Secret model to make me want you. I’m so fucking hungry for you right”—he grabbed her left hip—“this”—he grabbed her right hip with his other hand—“instant. You have ten minutes, then I’ll expect you naked and kneeling on our bed, waiting for me to give you everything you deserve. Do you understand?”

  How could she argue with that? “Yes, Sir.”

  When he smiled, she turned toward their master suite. He gave her a playful swat on the butt as he followed her. And as she stepped into the bathroom, his hands roamed all over her. “Jack…”

  “You can’t blame a man for wanting his gorgeous wife. I’m impatient to remind you how much I love and want you.”

  Then he disappeared.

  Morgan hurriedly shaved everything in a shallow tub with economical strokes, then jumped out with just enough time to refresh her lipstick and give her hair a little tousle.

  With less than thirty seconds to spare, she hustled to the bed, sank to her knees on the foamy mattress, and pressed her palm into her clenching stomach, looking for calm. Jack Cole got to her in a way no man ever had and no man ever would. The fact that he wanted to show her how much he still loved and desired her made Morgan’s heart sing.

  “Right on time.” He strolled into the room wearing black sweatpants—and nothing else.

  The ridges of his chest and abs, the rippling of his arms and shoulders, bespoke the hours of training alongside his operatives, his commitment to the team’s safety. He was ready to pack up and watch their six at a moment’s notice. Morgan hated that he might leave on a mission one day and never come back. On the other hand, she respected the hell out of him for continuing to do what he loved and protecting the weaker who couldn’t defend themselves.

  She drank in the sight of him hovering around her, basked in the taut moment and drowned in his dark stare, which proclaimed his devotion with a silent shout.

  “I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful.”

  At his quiet, heartfelt admission, Morgan dragged in a steadying breath. Did he mean that? She couldn’t help but be painfully aware of the little pooch of her tummy. If he’d let her finish the angel costume, she’d had an ingenious little peplum build in to hide the new bulge. He wouldn’t have to see it at all. As it was now, all she could do was suck it in and toss her shoulders back.

  Jack scowled, grabbing a hold of her to drag her closer. “Did you hear me? I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful than you, and I don’t need you posturing to impress me.”

  “You have to say that because we’re married and I just had a baby,” she argued, desperate to believe him.

  “No, I don’t. I say it because it’s true.” He thrust a hand in her hair and pulled her face under his until she had nowhere to look but at him. “Do you need me to oil up and pose to make you want to look at my body?”

  “No.” She reared back. “Why the hell would I want that?”

  “Why the hell would I want some half starving Barbie doll flouncing around in lace?”

  Morgan frowned. “They’re beautiful.”

  “They’re trained to be. But they’re not real to me. I don’t love them. I love you. And my promise to you is that I won’t let you down again.”

  “Jack, you’re human. You were tired last night. I understand.”

  “Logically, I know you do. But you don’t emotionally. If I’d been making you feel like the woman I desperately desired more often, you wouldn’t have been glue-gunning feathers to dazzle me at four a.m. That’s on me. Not saying I’ll never be tired again. I’m promising to communicate and better balance the needs of my job and our household with your needs as a woman. Fair?”

  “More than fair,” she murmured, her heart melting. “You’re the best husband a woman could ask for. Thank you for being all mine.”

  “I always am. I always will be, mon amour.” He released her and sat on the bed. “Present yourself over my lap. I need you to understand how much I dislike your choice to give up sleep so you could make a costume to entice me, rather than simply talking to me.”

  The air left her lungs. Morgan hung her head. “I know. Telling you my fears and feeling should have been the first thing I did, not the last. I’m sorry.” She draped herself across his jersey-covered thighs, backside perched in the air. “Should I count?”

  “No. Just think what’s happened and what I’ve said. I’ll stop when it’s time.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The words barely cleared her lips before his palm connected with her right cheek. It stung enough to awaken her skin, remind her of his touch and power. Then he pulled away, smoothed the warmth into her muscles with his wide hand, and repeated the process on her left.

  Over and over again, he spanked her, the rhythm and resulting tingles luring her deeper into her head, sending her sinking onto a morass of sensations where nothing mattered except him and her and their connection.

  As if her mind had its own will, she recalled instances where she could have told Jack how insecure she’d been feeling in the last few months: like just after Luc and Alyssa’s Traverson’s Labor Day pool party where she’d been too self-conscious to be seen in her bathing suit. On Halloween, when she’d claimed it was too chilly to wear her sexy bunny costume. During nightly showers she’d sneaked in while Jack was too preoccupied to walk in and see her. While they’d been tangled in their sheets and she’d pleaded with him to turn off the lights off while they’d made love. So many missed opportunities to simply tell him that she feared time and childbearing had changed her body in a way that displeased him.

  Sometimes her own curves weren’t even familiar to her. She’d caught herself glancing a time or two in the mirror while dressing and wondered who that strange woman was. The changes to her shape startled her…yet she wouldn’t trade her children for anything in the world, certainly not for the perfect figure.