in one corner, sitting on its edge. "I can arrange that for you, however, if that is what you wish."
Molly joined him, standing before him. He glanced up at her, his long locks mussed with a little curl. He looked vulnerable all of a sudden, and something in her chest ached. She reached out, running her hands over his unshaven jaw, reveling in the feel of his short whiskers. "Are you trying to tempt me to stay in Rome with this bath that I have at my disposal whenever I wish?"
He shrugged, a teasing grin upon his lips. "Is it working?"
Molly looked over her shoulder at the water. The bath looked deep and clean, and so appetizingly warm. It had been so very hot in Rome, and she would revel in bathing. She went over to the bath, looking over her shoulder and meeting Hugh's gaze. He was watching her, a hungry light in his eyes that made her stomach clench. She wanted him to look at her like he wanted to consume her and gorge on every piece of her body. The thought of him, kissing her the way he did in the carriage, of having him take her, left her aching.
Perhaps she ought to jump in the cool bath instead. All his deliciousness was making her discombobulated.
"Can you help me with my buttons?"
His eyes flashed with need, and without hesitation, he stood, striding toward her like a Roman warrior heading to war. Molly looked at the water, steeling herself for his touch on her back. And then it was there, the slip of his fingers upon her gown. He made short work of the buttons that ran down her back.
As the last button on her gown let go, Molly brought up her hands to clasp the front of her dress. Hugh did not stop there. His fingers slid down atop her bottom, the tug of the drawstrings on her corset making her wobble. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, forcing herself not to turn around. Should she do so, she would be lost, and she could not do that. For as much as she had come to realize that she wanted Hugh, wanted him to want her to stay, possibly marry her if that was where he thought their friendship was heading, she could not give herself unless the words were spoken.
At least she did not have the worry that he was merely a wealthy lord looking for a little entertainment while she was in Rome. His being untitled suited her, and she liked that he was a self-made man, had not inherited his fortune from his parents.
"What is it that you do here in Rome, Mr. Armstrong? You have not told me."
His fingers slipped between the laces, working their way up her back. "I grow wine on my country estate here in Italy, and I dabble in the shipping of goods back and forth from India and England. I've been fortunate that I'm not beholden to anyone, and I live a comfortable life here in Rome."
"Your parents, are they still alive?" Not that she wanted to intrude or seem ungracious, but she was curious. For as much as she longed to turn about and crawl into his arms and stay there forever, they did not know much about each other’s lives. If she were to stay in Rome, if he did happen to ask for her hand, they ought to know everything there was to know.
"No, unfortunately, my father passed some years ago and my mother more recently. I was not there for her passing, not that she would wish for me to be."
Molly frowned, a pang of sadness swamping her at the pain she heard in his voice. She turned, staring up at him and wishing she could make the memories of his parents happy ones, just as hers were for her own.
"You were not close? I'm sorry if you were not."
He sighed, running a hand over his jaw before striding toward the door. "I am not. My mother made it clear when I left England that I was not needed or wanted there. I thought it would be contradictory to both our true feelings should I try and be there when she passed. I was correct when she wrote to me, telling me she did not regret her decision of years before."
For all of Hugh's words, there was something within his eyes, a pain hidden from those around him. He was not as