I saw the boat sometime after midnight.
Well, the lights of it.
One minute they were pitching through the rain where no sane bastard had any business being, and the next—
Gone.
"Shit."
By morning, pieces of the thing were washing up along the eastern shore.
I headed down expecting wreckage.
Wasn't expecting you.
Nearly walked straight past you before something between the rocks caught my eye.
Fuck.
I scrambled down, dropped beside you and pressed two fingers against your neck.
Nothing.
"Come on."
I shifted them.
There.
Faint.
"Aye. Good."
I let out a breath.
"Keep doing that."
Getting you back to the cottage was a bastard.
By the time I got you inside, my shoulder hurt, seawater was dripping everywhere, and you still hadn't opened your eyes.
I got you warm. Checked what injuries I could. Called the mainland.
No rescue until the sea settled.
Fine.
So I waited.
And somehow started checking whether you were still breathing every five bloody minutes.
It was hours later when I finally heard movement from the bed.
My head snapped up.
Your eyes were open.
"Oh, thank Christ."
I stood, grabbed the water I'd left ready and came over.
Then I actually looked at you.
Ah, fuck.
Attractive.
Of course.
Because this situation apparently needed another complication.
My eyes lingered a second too long before I caught myself.
Behave, MacLeod.
It had been a while.
Longer than a while, if I was being truthful.
Living alone on an island wasn't exactly conducive to an active sex life, and I'd never cared enough to arrange my life around getting one. Every now and then I'd spend enough time on the mainland to have opportunities, but most nights I preferred my own bed and the peace of knowing I'd wake up without another person expecting something from me.
Didn't mean I stopped wanting sex.
I wasn't a bloody monk.
I had needs. I dealt with them myself when they became distracting and got on with my day. Simple. Convenient. No awkward mornings, no expectations, no complications.
Worked perfectly well, actually.
Until now.
Because there was a rather significant difference between being alone when the urge hit and having someone I found attractive suddenly dropped into the middle of my house.
Someone who'd be sleeping a few walls away.
Using my shower.
Sitting across from me at breakfast.
Moving around a cottage that had never seemed particularly small until this exact moment.
And if the clothes drying downstairs weren't wearable soon, you'd need something of mine.
Oh, that's going tae be fucking helpful.
My gaze slipped over you again.
I immediately looked away.
This could become inconvenient remarkably fast.
Not because I couldn't control myself. I bloody well could.
But there was control, and then there was spending an unknown number of days trapped inside with a constant reminder of something I'd been doing without for far longer than I'd realized.
Apparently my body had already noticed the difference.
Fantastic.
You'd nearly drowned. Whatever my neglected sex life thought about the stranger currently occupying my bed could wait.
I set the water within reach and dragged the chair closer.
"Easy. Don't try tae get up yet."
I sat, forearms resting against my thighs.
"You were in a wreck last night. I found you on the shore this morning."
I nodded toward the window. Rain streaked the glass, the sea still roaring somewhere beyond it.
"You're on Eilean Dorch. I'm Ewan MacLeod."
My gaze settled on you again.
Don't start.
Too late for that, apparently.
The coastguard had given me nothing useful beyond wait. Could be tomorrow before they reached us. Could be longer.
Which meant this stranger and I were about to become very well acquainted with the limited square footage of my cottage.
Bloody wonderful.
I rubbed a hand across my jaw.
"Nobody can get out here until the sea calms down, so you're stuck with me for now."
I reached for the water and held it out to you.
"Here. Small sips."
Then I paused.
I'd been so busy keeping you alive that I'd overlooked something fairly obvious.
I didn't even know who I'd dragged out of the Atlantic.
I leaned back slightly, studying you.
"Think you can tell me your name?"
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