Cindi Myers - No Regrets

Lexie leaned toward Nick, her voice low. “When was the last time you had a really good time?”

Words stuck in Nick’s throat. His pulse pounded in his temples and in his groin. He was close to giving in. Too close.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “I have a business to run and I can’t be distracted.”

She smiled with a sly, knowing expression and rose. “All right, Nick. You’ve made up your mind and I respect that. For now.” She moved to the door and looked over her shoulder at him, that same self-assured smile still in place. “And just so you know, I’ll be making every effort to convince you to change your mind.”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh, but I do.” The smile broadened. “Six months is a long time. I hate to think of spending all that time alone, don’t you?”

Dear Reader,

Like many of you, I’m a voracious reader. Of course, I adore romance books, but I also read nonfiction, history, mystery and suspense. I’m a big fan of private eye stories. Any time the old movie The Big Sleep, with Humphrey Bogart as P.I. Philip Marlowe, shows up on TV, I’m there!

So I had tremendous fun writing my own private eye, Nick Delaney, in this book. Of course, he required a heroine who was up to any challenge he might throw at her, so I created Lexie Foster, a woman intent on taking every advantage of the second chance she’s been given in life.

This is also the first time I’ve mixed a little mystery with my romance in a book. I hope you’ll enjoy the results.

I love to hear from readers. You can write me at P.O. Box 991, Bailey, CO, 80241, or e-mail me at Cindi@CindiMyers.com. And be sure to visit my Web site at www.CindiMyers.com for all the latest news.

Until next time…

Cindi Myers

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Diane and Mike

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

SOME PEOPLE THINK LIFE is full of second chances. But the way Lexie Foster saw it, do-overs didn’t come around that often. When you got the chance for one, you’d better grab it and make it good.

Or so Lexie tried to explain to her best friend, Candace French, as they lingered over frozen macchiatos on a mid-June afternoon in the coffee shop of the building where they worked in downtown Denver.

Where Lexie used to work, that is.

“Call me dense, but I’m just not getting this,” Candace said as she stabbed a straw into her drink. “Your first day back at work since the accident and you quit? Why?”

“I never liked working at Culpepper and Piper.” Lexie took a long pull on the macchiato, savoring the rich caramel and coffee flavor. She’d never really appreciated things like good coffee drinks before, but those days were over. “I’ve wasted too much time already in that dead-end job,” she explained. “The accident taught me that life is too precious to waste a second of it.”

She didn’t remember much about the accident itself, but the feelings surrounding the night lingered: the heart-stopping terror as she felt her car begin to slide on the icy road and watched it hurtle toward the guardrail; the confusion as she tried to see the ambulance lights pulsing somewhere to her left through a haze of blood, garbled voices shouting unintelligible words; the bleakness that washed over her upon waking in the stark white world of the hospital, unable to move; the incredible joy when they’d released her restraints and she’d discovered she would fully recover; the desire to get out into the world and experience everything that had consumed her during almost six months of rehab.

She sucked up more of the macchiato with a satisfying slurp and looked at Candace. “I’m going to do all the things I was too timid or busy or lazy to do before.”

Candace looked skeptical. “What kind of things?”

“I’ve made a list.” Lexie opened her purse and pulled out the little red leather notebook she’d bought especially for this purpose. “I’ve written one hundred things I intend to accomplish.”

Candace opened the book and scanned the first page. “Have affairs with at least six men before I’m thirty?” Her eyes widened. “That’s only three years.”

Lexie flushed. “That’s one every six months.”

“You haven’t had that many relationships in six years. Have you?”

She shook her head. “That’s the whole point. I’m not going to live the way I did before.” The “old” Lexie had been conventional, conservative and too concerned about what other people thought of her to take many chances. The “new” Lexie reasoned that life was too short to let anyone else’s rules dictate how she should live.

“But six? Don’t you think that’s a little ambitious? Maybe you should start slowly and work up.”

She smiled. “You haven’t read the rest of the list.”

Candace flipped through the book, her eyes widening as she read. “What? You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve always thought of you as, well, conservative. Reserved.”

“I was. I’m not going to be that way anymore.”

Candace cleared her throat and glanced at the book again. “Have sex in a public place? Do something kinky?” She fanned herself. “That must have been some near-death experience.”

Lexie shifted in her chair. “Those are fantasies. Don’t you have fantasies?”

“Yes, but I don’t write them down and set out to make them come true.”

“Then maybe you should.”

Candace returned the book to Lexie. “Maybe you’re right. And it sounds like you’re going to have a lot of fun. But what does this have to do with quitting your job?”

She tapped the cover of the book. “Number four on the list—no more settling for boring and conventional just because it’s convenient. I’m going to find a better job. One that’s more exciting, or at least interesting.”

“Such as?”

“I saw this ad in the Sunday paper. It’s perfect.” She took out the clipping from the Denver Post and showed it to Candace.

“Private detective seeks administrative assistant. Must be organized, computer literate and have superior phone skills.” Candace frowned and returned the clipping to Lexie. “It’s still a secretary. It’ll probably turn out to be just as boring as what you’re doing now. And not as well-paid.”

Lexie shrugged. “If I don’t like it, I’ll find something else. Number eighteen on the list.”

“Which is?”

“Embrace change as good.”

“Uh-huh. Then what about ditching the scarves?”

Lexie touched the paisley silk scarf knotted at her neck. “I will. I’m just waiting for the scars to fade a little more.”

Candace shook her head. “They’re not that bad.”

Lexie made a face. “They look pretty awful to me.” The doctors had to insert a breathing tube in her throat to save her. That and the surgery to repair the resulting hole had left scars that stood out white against her olive skin. Every time she looked in the mirror she cringed.

“So what about all these men you’re going to have affairs with?” Candace asked. “Are you going to keep your neck covered while you’re making love? Or turn out all the lights?”

“It won’t matter so much with them. I’ll have my mind on other things.” At least she hoped that would be the case.