Surrender of a Tattooist: Obsessive Dark Romance Alpha Bad Boy (Tattooist Series Book 2) Read Free Page B

do except cover her head with her arms to protect herself.
    Cliff stepped in front of her. It was a casual but incredibly protective gesture that made her feel both protected and heated.
    The eagle soared upward again, its massive wings beating. Pixie felt the air from its passing against her flushed cheeks and forehead.
    Cliff’s body was right next to hers now. She could smell his cologne and the spicy scent of the shampoo that he used. Her hands lifted and she reached for him, reached for the strong flex of his shoulders. Just as on impulse she had moved toward him, she then dropped her hands. She tore her eyes away from him and looked up again, watching the eagle zoom after its prey. “I thought they couldn’t hunt anymore.”
    “Most can’t,” Cliff said. “But this one’s still wild. He’s going to be one of the ones that make it back. They’ve never fed him. They’ve kept him hunting for his dinner. It was hard for a long time because his wings were in really bad shape; someone tried to clip them, probably because they wanted to keep him as a pet, but he managed. He’s a fighter.”
    She whispered, “Maybe some things can’t be tamed no matter how badly someone hurts them, trying to tame them.”
    He hesitated a moment before answering, “I think so.”
    The eagle snatched its prey and flew away to a nearby tree. Cliff waited. She did too. Randy stood at a distance, watching the eagle take its meal. A small bead of sweat ran down Cliff’s face, lodging right above his upper lip. It hovered there, a small salty drop that she wanted to lick away.
    Cliff clapped his hands a moment later, oblivious to Pixie staring at his lips. “Braveheart’s done. We have to call him. Do you want to help?”
    “Me?” She looked toward the tree. “I don’t know how.”
    “I’ll show you. That way you’ll know how to call him the next time.” He put two fingers to his mouth. She watched, fascinated, as he whistled—a long series of short and sharp whistles. The eagle screamed in protest. Cliff whistled again and held his arm up.
    The eagle pushed off the branch he sat on and flew a few circles before coming to Cliff, landing on his arm. Randy put the hood back on it and made a few adjustments while Cliff held his arm steady. He asked Pixie, “Do you want to touch him?”
    She nodded. She knew her mouth hung open as air gushed in and out with the excitement she felt.
    Cliff chuckled. “Easy now. He can’t bite through that hood, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try.”
    Wonder filled Pixie as she stroked the mighty bird’s feathers for a brief moment. “Do you really think someone cut his wings just to keep him?”
    “People will do the damndest things to keep what they want.”
    He was right. She should know. She let her hand drop away and Randy took Braveheart onto his wrist; Cliff took the gauntlet off and passed it back. “Thanks again, Randy.”
    “No trouble, Cliff. Anytime.” He smiled at Pixie before heading back to Braveheart’s cage. “Nice meeting you too, sweetie.”
    “Thanks for letting me watch.” Pixie smiled sincerely, her eyes still trained on Braveheart’s beautiful body. She watched him disappear with Randy into his cage.
    Cliff’s hand met her back, down low. Another thrill shot through her body. Her legs shook as he said, “Come on, I’ll show some of the other birds they have here.”
    She was hoping he would show her to the nearest bed. She nodded, and he guided her across the ground. They walked a little distance and she stared then burst into laughter. Peacocks strutted and stalked across a large section of ground and she asked, “What are they doing here? Please tell me you don’t feed them to the raptors.”
    Cliff shook his head. “No, not at all. They come from farms and everywhere else. Lots of people want them for lawn ornaments but when they figure out they are actual living creatures; they get to be a problem.”
    “I see.” She scrutinized his face for a