Stranded

I forgot to mention that there will be sexual content in my book. I really hope it doesn't put anyone off, but I know some people don't like it so consider this a warning! Thank you everyone for my first few reads and votes. Very much appreciated.

Enjoy!

As Olive drifted back into consciousness, she became instantly aware of the rain. She could hear it fall on the ground all around her. It could be sensed in the dampness of the air and in her shivering skin. She was cold and soaked to the bone.

Closer by, another noise could be heard. The sound of conversation, muffled in the same way you might hear people talking through a wall. The pitch was low but the voices were hurried, even worried.

"She's so pale, and she's shivering."

Olive would recognise that voice anywhere. Michael was there.

"No shit, Sherlock."

The second voice was rich and husky; it felt warm and familiar. Olive was instantly drawn to it, and she wondered if it belonged to her handsome stranger.

"Well, what are we going to do about it? She's only going to get colder if we leave her lying here."

"I told you, we need to take her clothes off."

Olive was seized by panic.

"Pervert." Michael came to her rescue.

"Find a girl to do it. All I'm saying is that waterlogged clothes can hardly be helping."

A third voice joined the mix. It was girlish and giggly with an undercurrent of bitter annoyance. Olive recognised it immediately.

"Can't you just, like, leave her alone sweetie. The rest of us are managing in the rain. She'll wake up eventually and look after herself. Come with me and help set up our shelter."

Olive clenched her fists tightly, and as she did so discovered the gritty texture of the ground beneath her hands. Sand. Where was she?

Voice number two scoffed in disbelief and Olive's lips twitched in amusement.

"Listen, love. The rest of us have been wandering around to keep ourselves warm. In case you hadn't noticed, she's passed out and shivering uncontrollably. When she wakes up, she'll be confused and horrified, so forgive us for wanting to prevent hypothermia as well."

Shards of Olive's memories crept back into her thoughts as she listened. Memories of the crash.

She remembered having a life jacket tugged over her limp, half-conscious shoulders by her handsome stranger just before the plane hit water. She remembered being briefly jolted awake by icy waves as he towed her a short stretch through the sea, muttering in frustration under his breath.

Where were they now? Had everyone survived? When was she going home?

As much as Olive tried to find the energy to worry, almost all she could feel (besides the numbing cold in her fingers and nose) was a wave of relief that she'd made it here alive. Gradually though, a gnawing pit of embarrassment began to swell in her stomach. She'd been so helpless and pathetic; a damsel in distress. It was part of the reason Olive kept stopping herself from opening her eyes and declaring herself conscious. She couldn't bear to see everyone standing around her, looking down at her like she was some kind of sickly child.

"Listen, Ella baby. We sort of need to deal with this situation right now. We don't even need a damned shelter, the authorities will be here in a few hours. Why don't you go over there and make yourself useful."