She blinked at him with a wide-eyed, ingenuous expression. “I thought you wanted gold-covered chocolate.”
“Sure you did. I wanted luxury to come to us with no effort. That’s how billionaires live.”
She separated the halves of a double boiler, filling the bottom with water at the sink. “So far, for me anyway, the billionaire lifestyle is pretty much like any regular lifestyle. Except that it’s a ridiculously long walk from the kitchen to the master bedroom. My tea is cold by the time I get there.”
“You take tea to bed?”
“I sip jasmine while I read. It’s very relaxing.”
“I sip single malt while I watch the sports news. Very relaxing.”
She lit a gas burner under the double boiler.
“You are actually making chocolate strawberries.”
“It is Christmas Eve.” Then a look of concern crossed her face. “Have you had dinner?”
“We grabbed a burger on the way over. You?”
“Late lunch.”
“I really can order something in. You want a steak or some pasta? Or you seem to have a thing for pizza.”
She pouted. “Okay, now you’re making me hungry.”
“Pizza it is.” He paused, gazing down at Zachary. “I think this guy’s out for the count.”
Her expression softened, and she moved toward them. “I can take him if you’ll watch the chocolate.”
Cole extracted the bottle from Zachary’s pursed mouth. He sucked a couple more times before sighing in his sleep.
“I’ve got him,” he told her quietly. “I mean, if you’re okay with me putting him to bed.”
“Of course I’m okay with that.” She brushed a hand across Zachary’s forehead, then she followed it with a tender kiss.
Emotion tightened in Cole’s chest. For the first time in his life, he actually got it. He’d seen men with their families, watched them care for their children. But he’d never had an inkling of the strength of those instincts, the flat-out intensity of the desire to protect.
“You sure?” he found himself asking.
He was little more than a stranger to Amber, and it suddenly seemed unfair to ask her to trust him with Zachary.
She smiled. “Go for it. Then order that pizza. We’re going to need something that goes with five-hundred-dollar champagne.”
“Is that seriously the price?” It struck Cole as ridiculous.
“That’s what it says.”
“How can any taste be worth twenty dollars a swallow?”
“You tell me. You’re the billionaire.”
Cole rose. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
He gently parked Zachary over his shoulder. Zachary’s little body was warm and soft, molded trustingly in his arms.