Lessons and Lovers Read Online Free PDF

Omigod, this’s Darryl!
    Confused, she sprang to her feet. Just as the beautiful man did the same, then stepped towards her, tall and lithe, and with his amazing face wreathed in an almost ecstatic smile.
    “Lady Henrietta! I’m so glad you’re here! I thought I was going to miss you!”
    “Darryl?”
    “Oh yes… Yes, I’m Darryl.” The voice was soft and light, and the accent as sexy as the face and body that went with it, “I’m sorry. I got my flights mixed up. I’m early.” He held out a long, skinny-fingered hand, and without hesitation, Hettie let her own be grasped.
    Confusing heat enveloped her and she shuddered. Quite taken aback, she just stood there, trying to accept that this gorgeous, stylishly dressed demigod was the very same naïve innocent she’d come here to meet.
    This was the archeologist with no memory?
    Hettie felt strangely shaky. She’d rarely felt this affected by a man on first meeting him. The exceptions were when she’d met Piers, so suave, mature and sophisticated—and ended up in his bed the very same evening. And almost at the same time, when she’d met her new lover’s enigmatic blond servant, the same man who’d just last night filled her yearning sex with his flesh, and her heart with muddled emotions.
    Thinking of Starr now reminded her that he was waiting for them with the car. She felt a rush of guilt at feeling so turned on by Darryl.
    “Do you have luggage or anything?” she asked. He still appeared tired, but nevertheless his composure was rock-solid. For an amnesiac who had just been tossed out onto the street by his only remaining relative, his self-possession was remarkable.
    “Yes. Here,” he said, gesturing to a neat stack of belongings. One elegant Gucci suitcase, a matching flight bag and a butter-soft black leather jacket draped across the top of the two.
    “Okay. Pass me the bag. We can manage these between us. No use hanging about here for porterage when we’ve a car waiting to take us home.”
    Without actually refusing her help, Darryl whisked up all his items of luggage, smiled impishly like a hypersexed angel then fell into step beside her as they left the lounge on their way to find Starr and the limousine.
    Hettie’s very personal assistant was predictably unfazed by the unexpected glamour of Darryl di Angeli. She watched, vaguely aware that her mouth had fallen open, as the two men stowed the bags away in the boot of the limo and chatted about Darryl’s flight and his sketchy knowledge of England.
    Hettie could hardly believe the mad, sexy thoughts that passed through her mind, at the sight of the two of them. Piers’ fond, indulgent laughter echoed in her ears as she stood and stared at possibly the two most desirable men in all of greater London talking easily together as if they’d known each other ages. And as first Starr helped her into the car, then Darryl slid gracefully onto the back seat beside her, she reflected that she couldn’t have found two more diametrically different examples of male pulchritude if she’d gone out and actively looked for them.
    Starr, so cool and hard, so strong and remorselessly knowing. And now Darryl, with his skinny long-limbed beauty, his huge, dark, lost eyes and his peculiar combination of naïveté and confidence. The only common factor they shared was a solid male bulge in their jeans.
    As Starr eased the car smoothly away from the curb, Hettie wondered how on earth to open a conversation with the man beside her. What did one say to someone who’d lost his or her memory? Once again she was struck by the enormity of what she’d agreed to do.
    Here was someone who’d lost both the person who’d been closest to him in all the world, and any recollection of what he’d done with his life to date. Not to mention the more intimate memory loss that Renata had not too subtly hinted at. Darryl’s apparent inability to remember whether he’d ever had sex or not.
    Panicking, she plunged in with the