CIARA'S POVI woke up slowly, the kind of gradual climb to consciousness where dreams and reality blur together. Something warm pressed against my palm. My fingers were intertwined with someone else's.Darragh's.My eyes flew open. Morning light filtered through the cheap hotel curtains, bathing the room in a soft glow. I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.Darragh sat on the floor beside my bed, his back against the wall, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle. Fast asleep. One arm stretched up to the mattress where his hand held mine.Had he held my hand all night? Why would he do that?I studied our linked fingers. His hand dwarfed mine, callused in places I wasn't. My pulse quickened, and I pulled my gaze away, looking instead at his face.He seemed younger in sleep. The sharp edges of his usual expression softened, his dark eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. I'd never seen him so... unguarded.Carefully, I slipped my hand from his. He didn't stir. I slid off
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