DARRAGH'S POV
I stood in the bathroom longer than I needed to. The shower had stopped running ten minutes ago, but I lingered, one hand gripping the towel around my waist while the other wiped steam from the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, water droplets clinging to my shoulders.
The tattoo on my forearm seemed to mock me now. The tree with its roots digging deep into the earth—a symbol of brotherhood and loyalty that now marked me for death.
I grabbed a second towel and rubbed it roughly over my hair, then across my chest and back. No sense dripping all over the carpet out there. No sense giving Ciara more to look at than she needed to.
The memory of her eyes on me when I took off my shirt flashed through my mind. I hadn't meant to put on a show, but the way her cheeks flushe
