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Back The Model Wife Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Also by Tricia Stringer
  5. Title Page
  6. Dedication
  7. One
  8. Two
  9. Three
  10. Four
  11. Five
  12. Six
  13. Seven
  14. Eight
  15. Nine
  16. Ten
  17. Eleven
  18. Twelve
  19. Thirteen
  20. Fourteen
  21. Fifteen
  22. Sixteen
  23. Seventeen
  24. Eighteen
  25. Nineteen
  26. Twenty
  27. Twenty-One
  28. Twenty-Two
  29. Twenty-Three
  30. Twenty-Four
  31. Twenty-Five
  32. Twenty-Six
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. Author’s Note
  46. Acknowledgements
  47. Excerpt
  48. One

Dining out alone had been a new experience. She’d eaten on her own many times, of course, but never out at a restaurant. She’d felt self-conscious at first but the staff were welcoming, the sound of the ocean just across the road soothing, and the breeze caressing her bare arms liberating. The restaurant had been full and the staff so busy she’d had to fight the urge to offer her help. How silly would she look then, a guest clearing tables? Besides, this was her After Anomaly life. She’d avoided watching them and turned her attention to the view across the lawns towards the towering palm trees. She’d made herself relax and had enjoyed her meal then she’d taken a stroll around the gardens before returning to her room.

She glanced around it now, taking it in from the comfort of the bed. It was spacious – even though there was such a huge bed dominating the room it also boasted a desk, a fridge and a large television, another small table and scattered chairs, yet there was still room for her to dance if she wanted to. She smiled and nestled her head into the soft pillow.

When she’d first arrived in her room she’d been in a hurry to strip off, unpack and slip into shorts and a t-shirt. Then she’d thrown open the louvred shutters on the glass door and paused in amazement. She had her very own deck and beyond it was a huge pool where people swam or basked in the sun on the assorted lounge chairs. That was when she’d realised there’d been no bathers in her case.

I’ll just have to shout myself a new pair, she’d thought, vaguely recalling a shop in the foyer near reception. The bed had looked so sumptuous she’d lain down to test it and it had been much later when she’d opened her eyes to the view of a sky that had turned to gold. The bedside clock said she’d slept for two hours. She’d taken her time rousing herself, showering and dressing for dinner. Already she’d felt at home.

Home! She sat up with a guilty start, wondering where she’d left her phone. She hadn’t taken it to dinner and she hadn’t thought of home or her family since she’d arrived. Her mobile was on the desk where she’d left it plugged in to charge, the blue light of a message flashing. She padded across the wooden floor. Being barefoot and wearing only her loose dress felt luxurious after the confines of winter layers at home.