Saving Grace (Serve and Protect Series) by Norah Wilson

yours, Razor?” Tommy’d held the bag up by its handle.
    “Grace’s,” Ray had replied. “I forgot it was in there.”
    Tommy had given him an odd look over the roof of the Pathfinder. “Grace’s, eh? Well, old buddy, I wouldn’t waste any time getting it back to her, if I were you,” he’d said, then zipped the bag closed again and resumed his search.
    Ray’s face burned again as it had then, imagining only too well what was in the bag.
    Grace had a passion for underwear. Nothing tacky, but she loved color. Funky orange and lime green and deep purple, in silk and lace and velvet. Bras that cupped her lush breasts and high-cut panties that made her legs look miles long.
    Cursing, Ray slammed the hatch and went back inside.
    Grace hovered just inside the door.
    “Where do you want ’em?”
    “The bedroom, I guess.”
    He carried his burden upstairs, with Grace on his heels. Briskly, he flopped the suitcase on the bed and dropped the leather satchel beside it.
    “There you go.”
    He turned to leave, but she called his name. He stopped in the doorway but didn’t turn.
    “You’re not going to stay while I go through them?”
    He turned his head to the side. “So I can see what you packed to start your new life? No, Grace, I think I’ll give that a pass.”
    The distressed little sound she made echoing in his ears, he went downstairs, where he lay down on the couch and draped an arm over his eyes.

    Grace turned back to the bed, looking at the suitcases through a film of tears.
    She lifted her gaze to the mirror above the dresser. “Don’t you dare cry,” she told her reflection. “You brought this down on your own head. Deal with it.”
    Except dealing with it was easier said than done. She’d never had to suffer Ray’s contempt before. She let her breath out on a sob. How was she going to bear it?
    The same way he’s had to bear what you did to him.
    This time, she tried not to flinch from that truth. She’d ditched him in the most brutal way imaginable. Then she’d proceeded to leave her employer in the lurch, pack her bags and leave town. And for what? A man she couldn’t even remember.
    Couldn’t remember , for pity’s sake.
    And not for lack of trying. When she’d come back from the office, she’d lain on the couch, numb from shock. As her mind floated, she’d tried to bring this man’s features together. She’d closed her eyes and tried to hear her lover’s voice, feel his touch, taste his kiss. But no matter how the features she conjured started out, they always shaped themselves into Ray’s dark face. The only voice she could imagine whispering sweet words in her ear was Ray’s. The only smell, only taste, only touch‌—‌his.
    She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream, No, I didn’t do it! She wouldn’t have done it. Couldn’t have done it.
    Yet she must have done it. The evidence was damning.
    Her gaze fell on the suitcases. Ray was right. She needed to unearth those memories. There must be an explanation for her behavior. She had to believe it. For all that people were inclined to dismiss her as a lightweight, she wasn’t flighty. And she certainly wasn’t given to mad impulse.
    Of course, she would also have qualified herself as loyal as a Labrador Retriever, and look what she’d done.
    Tears started to well again. The suitcase , she reminded herself. She wiped damp palms on her jeans, then opened the big suitcase.
    Oh, thank God . The top layer was all familiar stuff. She actually smiled. What had she expected? A black leather bustier? Edible underwear? Crazy to be so relieved.
    Or maybe not so crazy. Her small smile faded. If she could cheat on Ray, she obviously didn’t know herself very well.
    Forcing her attention back to the task, she started removing garments one by one, piling them on the bed.
    Two pairs of jeans, two pairs of khakis, a half-dozen t-shirts, a few blouses, two sweaters, a pair of low-heeled pumps, her Puma runners, and her most serviceable