She was going to be tall, already about five-eight, breasts that were slightly more than a handful, and I have big hands, though I'd never gotten them...on Cammie's melons. Her hair was black as midnight. Right now she had a short, almost boyish cut, but it used to hang just below her shoulders. A few light freckles and a break in her left eyebrow completed the picture. The break came from a bicycle accident when she was six. Cammie hated it, but I thought it gave her face character.I'd known. It was too late to save the child - her throat had been cut by her father, horrified that his offspring now bore the mark of Shaitan. Young Captain Yasov had fired his pistol in the air to stop the mob. He had looked down at the semi-nude, desperate Afghani girl who knelt in the dirt. She was cut and bruised and had been bound in rough twine. Despite the trickle of blood from her lip and her tear-streaked face, he could see she was very terrified ... and very pretty. Yasov's life changed in. More

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