CHAPTER TWO
Cameron~
The roar of gunfire yanked Cameron from his stupor. For one heart-stopping moment he was back in Syria, suffocated by pulverized brick dust. Surrounded. Doomed. Then the cool calm of the darkened living room registered.
He was stateside. Safe. He closed his eyes against the stabbing pain even the dimmest light triggered. Willed his pulse to slow. The gunfire morphed into the growling thunder of a big motorcycle. Behind his lids, as clearly as if he stood watching in the sunlight, he could see Capt. Frankie D’Angelo rumbling up the driveway of her family home.
She would be astride her oversized, overpowered Harley Davidson. Straddling The Beast, as she had so often straddled him. Of course, when she had ridden him hard, she hadn’t been wearing skin-tight black leathers. But Frankie D’Angelo was even sexier in her own peachy skin. Maybe the sexiest woman alive.
Not that she wasn’t plenty titillating in black leather. Six-foot-three in her stocking feet, built like his own personal Valkyrie, and twice as beautiful as any woman needed to be, she was every bear’