The Sugar Daddy's Secret Babysitter

Chapter 3: Midnight In His Kitchen

Day 3 and Amara had already made a mistake.

She had started to like it here.

She liked waking up at 6 AM to Sofia climbing into her bed whispering, "Mummy Amara, you promised pancakes." She liked that Kian left black coffee for her in the kitchen even though he never said good morning. She liked that the housekeepers now called her "Aunty Amara" with respect.

She was forgetting rule number two: Never fall in love with this family.

At 11:30 PM on Day 3, she couldn't sleep. She went downstairs for water, wearing only a big t-shirt and shorts - her normal sleeping clothes from Agege, not the silk pajamas Kian bought.

The kitchen light was on.

Kian was there, in sweatpants, shirtless, cooking. Or trying to. Burning eggs.

"What are you doing, sir?"

"Trying not to wake the whole house because Sofia wants scrambled eggs at midnight and she only eats yours."

Amara laughed. "You - Kian Adeyemi, billionaire who owns half of Lagos - you are burning eggs for your daughter?"

"Don't look so shocked. And stop calling me sir. My name is Kian."

He said her name wrong at first. Then right. Kian. It sounded different when she said it.

She took the pan from him. Their hands touched. Hot.

"Like this," she said, cracking eggs, adding milk. "My mother taught me before she died. You have to be gentle. Eggs are like people. If you rush them, they break."

He watched her, not the eggs. Her bare legs. Her messy hair. Her lips as she concentrated.

"You are different," he said suddenly.

"Different from what? The girls at the club?"

"Different from everyone. My ex-wife wanted my money. The nannies wanted a promotion. You... you poured whiskey on me when I offered you 10 million."

"Because I'm not for sale."

"I know. That's why I can't stop thinking about you since that night."

The kitchen was silent except for the eggs sizzling.

Amara's heart was beating so loud she was sure he could hear it.

"Kian... Sofia is upstairs. The staff -"

"Let them talk."

He stepped closer. She could feel his heat. He smelled like soap and sleepless nights and expensive sin.

"Amara, I have not touched a woman in a year. Since my wife left me for a Dubai prince and told my daughter she never wants to see her again. I told myself I would never..."

"You don't have to -"

"I want to."

He cupped her face. His hand was big, rough, warm.

"Tell me to stop and I will. I will walk away and never come near you again. We will be boss and nanny only."

Amara looked at this broken, cold, impossibly handsome man who was trying so hard to be a father alone. A man who burned eggs at midnight for his child.

She didn't say stop.

He kissed her.

Not soft. Desperate. Like a man who had been drowning and finally found air. He pushed her against the kitchen counter, his body against hers, his mouth devouring hers.

Amara moaned - a sound she had never made before. She was 22 and had never been kissed like this. Her ex in UNILAG kissed like a boy. Kian kissed like a man who owned the world.

"Oh God, Amara," he whispered against her lips, his hands sliding under her big t-shirt, finding bare skin. "You feel..."

"Kian!" A housekeeper's voice from the corridor. "Oga, is everything okay?"

They jumped apart. Amara's t-shirt was lifted. Kian's breathing was heavy.

"Yes, Bola. Sofia wanted eggs," Kian said, voice perfectly cold again, like nothing happened.

The housekeeper left.

Amara fixed her shirt, cheeks red. "We... we shouldn't have..."

"We shouldn't have stopped," Kian said, staring at her lips.

He walked to her, wiped a bit of egg from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, and licked it.

Amara's knees almost gave way.

"Goodnight, Amara. Sleep well. And tomorrow... wear something less... distracting. Or I won't be responsible for what happens in my kitchen at midnight."

He left with the plate of eggs for Sofia.

Amara stood alone in his massive kitchen, touching her lips, her body shaking.

She had just kissed her billionaire boss. Her sugar daddy who never became her sugar daddy.

And tomorrow, his ex-wife - Sofia's real mother - was landing from Dubai.

Because Bola the housekeeper had already sent the flight details: "Madam, come back quickly. Oga has found a new wife."