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Story: The Wolf of My Eye

She arched a brow.

“Just to get a little practice in before I have to fish with the others.”

She smiled. “You know they love you no matter what. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Okay, well, I have to work on my wedding gown. You have fun fishing.”

“I will.”

“And bring something back for dinner!”

He laughed. If he had luck, he would.

***

Later that morning, Robert was sitting in the boat off the western coast, where he could see the MacQuarrie castle and battlements sitting high up on the cliffs—a spectacular sight. The water was calm as he listened to the seabirds calling out above while casting his line out again. He knew the birds were waiting for him to catch something, just like he was. He was trying to enjoy the fishing trip, the solitude, and the summer day before he opened the clinic in three weeks and would be too busy to do something like this. He’d had to wear a waterproof jacket and pants over his T-shirt and jeans though, the wind off the water a wee bit chilly for soaking up any of the sun’s rays.

He was moving into his home tomorrow, first thing, giving Lachlan and Edeen their much-needed privacy, even though the manor house was set up with two complete living areas. As gray wolves, that meant they’d only want to lease to other wolves, and Robert fell into that category, as well as being family. But he was ready for his own space and was also thinking about the grand opening of his vet practice.

Then he got a nibble on his fishhook. Hell, he’d caught something. He began reeling in the fish, careful not to lose it, giving it slack, reeling it in again, but damn, it was big and struggling to get free. He continued to reel in his catch, and it continued to fight him. He was afraid he’d lose it. But then the sky was darkening. Storm clouds were building and moving in his direction. Winds were whipping the water up in a frenzy. Hell, he was facing a fierce squall, and he had to hurry.

The wind was blowing hard, the waves starting to swell. Robert needed to return to the MacQuarrie beach. He still couldn’t see what he’d caught, but as he pulled his catch closer, a hand reached out of the water and grabbed on to the fishing line. The first thing that came to mind was a mermaid, but then logic caught up: He’d caught a person?

That’s when the diver came up with the hook caught in her arm. Och, he was a worse fisherman than he thought he could ever be.

She glowered at him through her face mask, her beautiful blue eyes spearing him. She pulled out her regulator. He at once smelled that she was a wolf, though also wearing the scent of the sea and salt air. He felt awful that he’d hooked her but couldn’t help but be interested in the pretty wolf.

“You were under my boat?” He held his hand out to her.

“I was swimming out there!” She motioned with her good arm to a point a long way off, where he’d tossed the fishing line out in the first place. Of course. “Ohmigod, we’ve got to get out of this weather.” Lightning was striking the ocean off in the distance, thunder following. Gale-force winds were blowing the boat about, the waves capping.

“Here, let me get you into the boat and I’ll remove the hook. Is it just caught in your suit?” He prayed it was.

“No. It’s also in my arm.” She sounded furious with him, her eyes flashing with indignation.

He didn’t blame her. Here she’d been diving, minding her own business, and he’d ruined it for her. “I’ll get the fishhook out, but we have to hurry. I’m so sorry. Here, let me take your tanks.” But as soon as he leaned over to grab them, a roguewave hit the boat and capsized it. He went into the water, swallowed seawater, and came up coughing. Aww, hell. Panic washed over him in that moment because he didn’t see the woman.

He dove under, but seeing in salt water without a face mask was nearly impossible. Everything was blurry. Then he felt her bump his leg, and he dove down and grabbed her good arm, pulling her out of the water.

She coughed up water, and he held on to her until she could get her bearings. If the boat had hit her, he couldn’t tell because of the wet suit hood she was wearing.

They would have to swim around the cliffs and reach the beach on the other side. The water was cold, and he wasn’t wearing the right clothes for it. Plus, he wasn’t wearing fins like she was. He worried about having to pull her from the water. Had the boat hit her and knocked her out momentarily? She could have a concussion, but at least her wet suit should keep her warm enough.

His hook was still in her arm. His phone and fishing pole had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. The ice chest and overturned boat were floating on top of the churned-up water.

She pushed the inflator button closest to the air inlet to add air from her scuba tank to the buoyancy control device, or BCD, that essentially served as a life vest when needed.

For a moment, she just stared at the upside-down boat, him, and the bobbing ice chest—and then she took a picture with her dive camera.

The storm was getting worse by the second. Yet for onecrazy instant, he wanted to ask if she was single and seeing anyone else.

She pulled a diving knife out of its sheath and handed it to him. “Don’t drop it. Cut me free of the fishing line. I’ll go to a doctor to have the fishhook removed.”

“I’m a veterinarian. I worked at a clinic in Edinburgh. I can remove the fishhook.” He cut the fishing line free of the hook and handed the dive knife back to her.

She sheathed it. “Not out here, you can’t, and I can’t help you with your boat. Can you make it to the shore okay?”

“We’ll swim around the MacQuarrie castle coastline and get to their beach. That’s where I launched the boat. Come with me.”

“You’re going to get hypothermia before long.”