Her Ex, Her Future?: One Night with Her Ex / Seven Nights with Her Ex / Backstage with Her Ex
Her Ex, Her Future?One Night with Her Ex by Lucy KingLily Montgomery knows how to have the perfect New Year’s Eve: a hot, one-night stand with a sexy millionaire. Trouble is, the man in question is Kit – the ex-husband she’s spent five years getting over. Soon though these two will find it hard to say goodbye…Seven Nights with Her Ex by Louisa HeatonFor neurologist Beau Judd, a medical course is her chance to escape. But her trip half-way around the world only brings her closer to the man who left her at the altar, Dr Gray McGregor! Now, as they head into the wild, he realises he made a mistake. Can he win back the woman he loves in seven days?Backstage with Her Ex by Louisa GeorgeHiding out in the gents’ toilets backstage is not the way Sasha imagined bumping into her ex. Especially when that ex is famously wild rock god Nate Munro! She has a massive favour to ask him, but one glimpse of his sinfully dark eyes and all she can think about is that he’s seen her naked!
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Her Ex, Her Future?
One Night with Her Ex
Lucy King
Seven Nights with Her Ex
Louisa Heaton
Backstage with Her Ex
Louisa George
Table of Contents
Lucy King
LUCY KING spent her formative years lost in the world of Mills & Boon romance when she really ought to have been paying attention to her teachers. Up against sparkling heroines, gorgeous heroes and the magic of falling in love, trigonometry and absolute ablatives didn’t stand a chance.
But as she couldn’t live in a dream world for ever she eventually acquired a degree in languages and an eclectic collection of jobs. A stroll to the River Thames one Saturday morning led her to her very own hero. The minute she laid eyes on the hunky rower getting out of a boat, clad only in Lycra and carrying a three-metre oar as if it was a toothpick, she knew she’d met the man she was going to marry. Luckily the rower thought the same.
She will always be grateful to whatever it was that made her stop dithering and actually sit down to type ‘Chapter One’, because dreaming up her own sparkling heroines and gorgeous heroes is pretty much her idea of the perfect job.
Originally a Londoner, Lucy now lives in Spain, where she spends much of her time reading, failing to finish cryptic crosswords, and trying to convince herself that lying on the beach really is the best way to work.
Visit her at www.lucykingbooks.com
To the challenging, tough, frustrating, wonderful, crazy thing that is marriage.
Right. That was it. Enough was enough.
As the last of Big Ben’s twelve bongs echoed through the night and the sky began to explode with fireworks, Kit Buchanan knocked back the inch of whisky that was left in his glass and glowered at the dazzling display erupting over the Thames beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse suite.
Forget the work he’d lined up to do this evening; he hadn’t touched it anyway. Forget the fact that it was the middle of the night and freezing cold; what with the burning sensation of the alcohol and the relentlessness of the thoughts drumming through his head he felt as if he were on fire.
And forget the fact that he was about to embark on a course of action that probably required a good deal more consideration than the ten minutes he’d just given it.
He needed to sort out the mess he was in. Now.
For five years he’d been suffering. Five long, torturous, frustrating-as-hell years, and he’d finally had it. He was through with the lingering guilt, the excruciating tension and the crippling anxiety, all of which vibrated through him pretty much constantly and all of which he’d had to live with for far too long. He’d had enough of beating himself around the head with more self-recrimination and regret than any man needed to experience in one lifetime.
And he was sick of having no option but to split up with the women he dated.
The last one, Carla, whom he’d been seeing for a month and with whom he’d broken up just a few hours ago, he’d liked more than usual. He wouldn’t have minded seeing a bit more of her, seeing where the relationship might head.
But that was pretty impossible given the problem he suffered, wasn’t it?
It really couldn’t go on.
Kit slammed the glass down on his desk and made a quick call to commandeer one of his hotel’s limousines. Then he grabbed his coat and strode towards the lift. He punched the little round button and waited, bristling with impatience as his mind churned with details of the trouble he had with sex.
For the first couple of years following his divorce he hadn’t been too bothered by his inability to function in bed. He’d told himself that after what he’d done he’d deserved it, and would willingly take the punishment. He’d assured himself that it wouldn’t last for ever, and that as he wasn’t a hormone-ridden, sex-obsessed teenager he could live with it.
But depressingly—and worryingly—it had lasted, and when matters hadn’t improved a year or two later he’d begun to get a bit concerned.
And while pride and the potential for total humiliation had stopped him from doing anything about it initially, eventually he’d gritted his teeth and summoned up the courage to make an appointment with his doctor.
Which hadn’t helped in the slightest.
The doctor had told him that there was nothing physically wrong with him and had suggested that perhaps his problem was psychological. He’d recommended a course of therapy, which had been pointless largely because Kit hadn’t been able to bring himself to be entirely open and honest with the therapist about his relationship with Lily or the circumstances surrounding their divorce.
