Kate’s fingers left her cup. She reached out and danced them along the inside of Tilly’s wrist, felt the ridges of her veins beneath her fingertips. Confessions burned on the tip of her tongue. I’d do anything to make you happy. All I want to do is kiss you all the time. I can give you everything you want. She could feel Tilly’s eyes on her thumb as it gently careened back and forth across her pulse, so slow it was barely a movement. “Has he ever kissed you?”

“He’s kissed me a few times on the cheek to say goodnight,” Tilly confessed. “I’ve only ever…I’ve only ever been kissed by you.”

Desire hit her like a freight train. Her thumb froze over Tilly’s pulse. Everything but Tilly ceased to exist—the whirl of the coffee machine, the slush of tyres on the wet road.

“And how did it feel?” she whispered over the noise of the bustling café. “When I kissed you?”

For a long moment, Tilly was silent. Kate’s thumb ceased its caress. Had she gone too far?

“Gentle,” Tilly suddenly murmured.

Kate looked up.

Tilly’s eyes focused on her lips. “Soft. And warm.” Her hand turned in Kate’s. She pinched the cuff of Kate’s blazer between her thumb and forefinger and Kate’s heart lurched. She shifted slightly on the stool to ease the growing pressure between her legs. Slowly, Tilly’s dainty fingers crept underneath the fabric to feel the bare skin of Kate’s wrist. Her fingers settled over Kate’s pulse. It wasn’t enough. Kate turned her hand and linked her fingers with Tilly’s.

Tilly’s eyes were hooded, lips slightly parted. The attraction was all-consuming, a magnetic pull Kate wasn’t strong enough to resist. A noise caught at the back of Kate’s throat. How easy it would be to close the space between them, to press her lips against Tilly’s and finish what they’d started on the ferry. Not a soul in the café would care. Here they were, just two women on a midnight date, shyly, desperately wanting.

“Kate…” Tilly whispered. “What are we doing?”

What were they doing? They were testing the limits, playing with fire. Finally, the floodgates had been opened and if the moment felt dangerous for Kate, she could only imagine what it felt like for Tilly. Tilly, who had only ever been kissed by Kate. Tilly, who blushed at the most innocent of suggestions. Tilly, who was engaged. In a trance, Kate stared down at the sapphire on Tilly’s finger. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. In a perfect world, it was supposed to be Kate’s ring on Tilly’s finger.

The thought shocked her out of her stupor. An ache fluttering in her heart, she dropped her gaze and withdrew her touch. “Come on,” she said over the lump in her throat. “Let’s head back.”

As they made their way down the empty street, the impulse to reach out and take Tilly’s hand was painfully acute. Desperation surged within her. If Tilly was any other woman, Kate would surrender to the temptation, lead her into an alley and claim her. But who was she kidding? She’d never feel compelled do something so animalistic with any other woman. She’d never had these kinds of impulses with anybody but Tilly. Kate swallowed. Christ, if Tilly could read the carnal, fervid fantasies playing through her mind, she’d run a mile and get a restraining order.