Martha shuddered. She pointed through the double doors. “At least the barman is good looking. Cassandra’s yacht had no pool and female bar staff. Hen party suicide.”

Jordan already felt sorry for Cassandra.

Up some more stairs was the top deck. Gloria stood there, mouth open. She beckoned to Jordan and Nikita. “Come and see this!” Had she become more Scottish since she boarded? “There’s a pool! On a boat!”

Jordan and Nikita did as they were told. The aqua blue of the plunge pool shimmered in the middle of the top deck, surrounded by loungers and sofas. Perhaps Arielle and Martha wouldn’t be giving this weekend such a bad write-up after all.

Jordan had expected a bloke called Pierre behind the bar, or perhaps Thierry, with a cool, French accent dripping from his lips. Instead, they’d got an Aussie named Travis. Not that any of the hen do were disappointed with Travis’s easy charm and rippling muscles.

The sun beat down as Jordan reclined on one of the sun loungers. It was a lot of boat for ten of them to fill, but they were going to try their best.

Next to Jordan, Gloria had her pale Scottish skin out. She sat beside her daughter who’d inherited the same. If Abby matured like Gloria, Marcus had struck some deal. Gloria was wearing a black bikini, and it was showing off toned legs and hard abs that had already drawn amazed stares from the rest of the hen party.

“I want to know now, Gloria. Tell me the secret of looking as good as you do in your late 50s.” Jordan held up her phone. “Tell me now, and I’m going to broadcast it live on Instagram so the rest of the world can watch and learn.”

Gloria threw her head back and let out a cackle of laughter. “Square sausage and brown sauce, of course.” She grinned at Jordan. “Do you know what that is, hen?”

Jordan shook her head. She had absolutely zero idea what the hell Gloria was talking about.

Gloria tapped Abby on the thigh. “You need to get this one around to yours for a bit of square sausage. Although it’s usually eaten for breakfast, so you might have to turn up very early in the morning. Or else stay the night before. You girls have got years to catch up on, so that wouldn’t be a problem, would it?” She gave them both an extravagant wink.

Jordan glanced at Abby, who was giving her mum the universal “please don’t embarrass me” face.

She smiled.

She was also busy imagining staying the night at Abby’s place, but instead of breakfast, she was imagining all-night sex, and waking up naked and sated, their skin sticking to each other in a deliciously new way.

Jordan blinked hard to get rid of that particular image. Square sausage couldn’t compete with that.