Abby swam ten lengths, loving the dimmed morning sun on her face. She reached out and clutched the edge of the pool, and stroked the baby-blue tiles.

When she and Marcus were married, would they come back here? Marcus had said the family who’d lent them the villa were close friends. The thought of returning regularly filled her with calm and happiness. They could do couples yoga, like he’d been trying to get her to do. She glanced up at the cloudless sky.

She and Marcus were going to be exactly the same. Cloudless.

Someone clearing their throat nearby made her look. She squinted.

Then she did a double-take.

Because there at the side of the pool, wearing a red bikini that left little to the imagination, was Jordan. Just as she had been in her dream.

So much for working it out of her system.

Now, instead of that, her dreams were coming true. In the worst and best possible way.

“Nice stroke work.” Jordan walked around the pool to where Abby was still clutching the wall, frozen in time.

Stroke work? Seriously? Jordan had no idea. “Thanks. I didn’t realise I had an audience.”

“Great minds think alike. I thought I’d get down here before there was too much of an audience and wake myself up. How is it?” She dipped a toe in the water, then recoiled. She hunched her shoulders and made a face. “Yikes. Colder than I thought.”

Abby took a deep breath and regained her composure. She could totally do this. “It is at first, but it’s gorgeous when you get in. Just go for it. It certainly woke me up.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow that told Abby she didn’t believe her.

Abby tried not to stare at Jordan’s flat, tanned stomach. Exactly as it had been in her dream.

Nope.

The bride-to-be should definitely not be doing that.

Jordan climbed in via the metal step ladder on the side of the pool, gave a little scream as she submerged herself, then swam over to Abby. When she drew level with her, she ducked her head under water, then came back up, sweeping her blond hair off her face. She wiped the water out of her eyes, before giving Abby a wide smile.

Scrap what she’d just thought. Maybe she couldn’t do this. If anything, seeing Jordan up close and all wet was making things worse.

Abby tensed, then tried to think of horrible things. Things that were not a semi-naked Jordan.

Jellied eels. Bone marrow on toast. Parsley. Martin Keown.

It didn’t work.

Her eyes could still see Jordan’s gorgeous face in front of her, and her whole body was processing that with some joy.

“How did you sleep?”

“Really well.” She was blushing, she could feel it.

Jordan didn’t need to know about her dreams.

But Abby knew.

Her body knew.