Read Online My Husband's Wives by Faith Hogan - Free Book Online Page A

Annalise wanted to go that route. To be fair, she was very upset when she knocked on his door. Amazing the difference a couple of days makes. The crowning ceremony had been the best night of her life.
    â€˜You think surgery is for you?’ The doctor looked at her in a way that suggested that she was not quite in on the joke, but he made her feel as if she didn’t need to be. He was tall, maybe twenty years older than she was, but still attractive. She could tell he didn’t work out, but he was in great shape, without that completely buffed look that the fashion boys went for.
    â€˜I’m not sure, I think it’s the only thing to do now…’ she said and, to her mortification, felt hot tears well up behind her eyes. The tale of the last couple of days came tumbling out and Paul handed over tissues while she blubbered about all she’d managed to mess up for almost half an hour.
    â€˜I think you should count yourself very lucky. Who wants to be in a pageant when you could so easily be doing something far more worthwhile?’ he said as he walked towards a small cupboard on the other side of the room. He made them tea. ‘Green or white?’ he asked as he dropped bags into the boiling water. The smell revived her, just a little.
    â€˜White is good,’ she said, eventually looking around the office that she’d been too distraught to take in before. The silence of the place was a little unnerving, but there was no denying that money and taste had free rein on choosing the medley of cream, white and ash that acted only as a backdrop to the man himself and the drama of the canvases on the walls. ‘You have good taste,’ she said, nodding towards a giant painting on the wall to her left.
    â€˜No, I’m afraid that I’m just the lucky recipient. My wife.’ His expression darkened, and a vague, shallow furrow creased his eyes. ‘She’s a very talented artist.’ The way he said it, Annalise had a feeling that maybe that was all she was.
    â€˜Oh?’ she studied the painting; it only took a moment to recognize that distinctive style. ‘Oh, my God, you’re married to Grace Kennedy?’ The delicate cup almost fell from her hand. ‘My mum loves her work – Dad bought a small print for their anniversary.’
    â€˜Yes, well, marriage is a funny thing.’ He said the words sadly, his eyes never leaving her face, and in that moment, she felt something tug at her heart. Maybe not all of her emotions had been wrenched from her?
    â€˜Feel any better?’ he asked her as she sipped her tea.
    â€˜A little,’ she whispered shyly.
    â€˜Well, as a doctor,’ he smiled at her, ‘I’m going to prescribe the following.’ He took out a notepad and slipped a slim pen from his pocket. ‘First, I think you should forget about the Miss Ireland competition. None of the supermodels ever bothered with any of that, did they?’ He smiled at her.
    â€˜No, but they…’
    â€˜Never mind “but they”,’ he said, writing for a moment on the pad before him. ‘Next, I don’t think I should perform the surgery on you for a number of reasons.’ He locked eyes with her so she caught her breath; she couldn’t break the contact even if she tried. ‘Number one, you clearly don’t need it – unless you want to be a page three girl and, to be frank, I think you’re much too classy.’ He smiled at her. ‘Number two, even if you think it will make you feel better, I guarantee, it’ll make you feel worse – ouch!’ Even Annalise managed to smile at that. ‘And number three, I’m a heart surgeon, not a plastic surgeon, so I’d probably not make the best job of it anyway.’ He took up a folder from the desk and pointed to his name, printed in bold caps across it. ‘Sorry.’ He smiled again, almost apologetically, ‘but I couldn’t let