Under the Microscope. Jessica Andersen

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      Their eyes met on a singe of memory.

      Feeling the ache of the day in his soul, Max was close enough to see the wariness in Raine’s expression. “It’ll be okay,” he said, knowing it probably wouldn’t be. “We’ll get through this.” Almost without thinking, he took her hands, and squeezed them when he felt the shocky cold of her skin. “I’m here for you.”

      I’m here for you, he’d said back at Boston General, giving her reassurance when she’d needed it, when she’d had nobody on her side. She’d leaned on him when she’d needed him, and left when she hadn’t.

      A familiar pattern.

      He pulled his hands away abruptly and stood. “Come on,” he said gruffly, more mad at himself than her. “The SUV’s outside.”

      “What about your truck?” She stood, and the worried questions in her eyes asked about more than just the truck. What’s next? Where do we go from here?

      Jessica Andersen

      Under the Microscope

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      To Sally Hinkle Russell, riding coach and friend.

       Thank you for everything.

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Though she’s tried out professions ranging from cleaning sea lion cages to cloning glaucoma genes, from patent law to training horses, Jessica is happiest when she’s combining all these interests with her first love: writing romances. These days she’s delighted to be writing full-time on a farm in rural Connecticut that she shares with a small menagerie and a hero named Brian. She hopes you’ll visit her at www.JessicaAndersen.com for info on upcoming books, contests and to say “hi”!

      CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Raine Montgomery—When her company’s new drug, Thriller, reportedly kills four women, she must fight to prove that something—or someone—else is responsible before she becomes the next victim.

      Maximilian Vasek—A private investigator specializing in medical cases, Max knows the Thriller job will propel him to the next level. But he and Raine have crossed paths before, and he doesn’t trust her one bit.

      Tori Campbell—Raine’s assistant has the inside scoop on many things.

      William Caine—Max’s business partner encourages him to take the job and get Raine out of his system—one way or another.

      Ike—The freelance “information specialist” is everything Raine is not—confident, sexy, self-sufficient…and Max’s former lover.

      Jeffrey Wells—Raine’s second-in-command is her most trusted ally.

      Cari Summerton—Does the young mother’s death hold the key?

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Prologue

      Cari Summerton tucked her tiny daughter into the pink-swathed crib and whispered, “Mama and Daddy have some serious loving planned tonight.”

      She pressed a kiss to the sleeping baby’s forehead, and felt a prickly ball of excitement just below her ribs for the first time since she’d gotten pregnant. Cari hummed as she tidied the baby’s room, a saucy va-va-va-voom punctuated with a bump and grind that reminded her that she was twenty-eight, not the eighty-something she’d been feeling lately.

      All that was going to change, starting tonight. She was done being depressed. She’d vowed to remember how to be a woman, not just a mother.

      The sample packet of pills hidden at the back of her closet was an important first step. Her new hair color—Sassy Strawberry—was the second; a brutal but oh-so-effective bikini wax was third; and the pièce de résistance—a naughty nightie from Victoria’s Secret—was laid out on her bed amid crisp white-and-gold tissue paper.

      Jimmy was due home any minute now, and tonight would be about the two of them. Nothing more, nothing less.

      Still humming, Cari sashayed to the bedroom, shrugged out of the jeans and sweatshirt she thought of as her mommy uniform, and pulled the naughty nightie out of its tissue. She held it up against her body and watched her reflection in the mirror.

      She looked good. She’d had a tummy tuck when the doctors had gone in for the C-section—why not?—and was toying with the idea of new breasts for her birthday. Maybe she wasn’t as tight as she’d been in college, when she and Jim had met over an exploding beaker in chem lab, but she wasn’t bad for a mommy.

      Not a mommy, she corrected herself. Tonight was about being a woman. She rubbed her naked thighs together and her reflection smiled a secretive, satisfied moue when she pulled on the nightie. The clock clicked over to 7:35 p.m. as she draped a long silk robe over her shoulders, knowing it showed as much as it covered. Then she ducked into her closet, unearthed the hidden foil packet and pressed out one of the four pink pills the doc had given her to try.

      The sweet-coated tablet went down easily, leaving her with a fizzy aftertaste, as if she’d swallowed champagne. Cari’s heart beat a little faster in her chest and her blood tingled beneath her skin, revving her juices, pumping her up, making her ready for her husband. Ready for some loving.

      Headlights cruised up the driveway and the automatic garage door opener cranked to life. Jimmy!

      Her pulse stuttered as she moved through their single-level home, turning off the lights in the side rooms and dimming the kitchen chandelier to emphasize the elegant tapers she’d lit at a table set for two. Pink fizz raced through her bloodstream when the kitchen doorknob turned.

      She struck a pose, feeling feminine. Feeling beautiful.

      The door opened and Jimmy took one step inside before he froze and his handsome face went slack with shock. “Cari?”

      Power bubbled up, stealing her breath. She shifted so the lace rode up her inner thigh. “Hey, handsome. Wanna party?”

      Jimmy’s carry-on hit the tile floor with a thump. Heat kindled in his green eyes and his lips lifted in a youthful smile, one that reminded her of simpler times before mortgages and college funds. He cleared his throat. “I must