I just finished reading "A Passion for Him" and enjoyed it immensely. However, it got me thinking about Ware's future.

Are you planning on writing a book about him? Meanwhile, I'll just have to bide my time until I get to read Simon's story. I'm anxiously awaiting that one as well.

Thanks!

--Beth

Amelia rounded the wingback and found Colin sprawled within its cradle, his long legs stretched out to rest his booted feet atop a footstool, his torso sans coat and waistcoat, his throat bared by a missing cravat. He looked at her with heavy-lidded, emotionless eyes and lifted the goblet to sculpted lips. There was a scratch near his brow and trail of dried blood below it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly. “How were you hurt?”

“Stay away,” he said in low, rough tone. “I am in a dark place, Amelia, and I have consumed more liquor than is wise. I cannot say what I will do if you come too close.”

Draped on the carved wooden arm of a nearby chair were his waistcoat, coat, and weapons--a small sword and dagger.

“Where did you go?”

“I have yet to leave.” He turned his head to look into the fire.

She heard the sadness and despair beneath the words, and her heart hurt for him. For her. “I am glad you did not go out.”

“Are you?” Colin’s head turned. In the light of the flickering fire, his beautiful face was hard, his dark eyes cold. “I am not.”

“What could you have done in this condition?”

“There is no reason for me to evade Cartland. I should turn myself over to him and spare everyone the jeopardy my presence creates.”

“Your life is the reason!” she protested. “If you concede, you will die.”

A wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Without any hope of having you, perhaps such a fate would be merciful.”

“Colin! How can you say such a thing?” She covered her mouth and fought the tears that welled.

He cursed softly. “Go away. I am not fit company, as I warned you.”

“I am afraid to leave you.” She feared that he would do as he threatened and surrender.

“No, you are not. You already left me, remember?”

Amelia almost said more, but his dangerous mood stilled her tongue. She had seen St. John in similar moods at times and had always wondered at Maria’s fortitude in seeking him out when so afflicted.

He needs me, Maria would say in explanation.

It was obvious that Colin needed comfort, too. And Amelia had distanced herself from him, which left him only the bottle to turn to for solace.

She approached him with shoulders squared, lifting the hem of her robe to her lips where she wet it. Reaching him, Amelia raised his chin with one hand and used the other to smooth away the blood. He was still, his eyes watchful, the tension that gripped him reaching out and surrounding her as well, making every nerve ending tingle and every breath a pant.

With an edgy snarl, Colin turned his head and pressed his lips to the sensitive skin of her wrist. She froze, unable to move as his tongue stroked over her now madly fluttering vein.

His glass hit the rug with a soft thud and a splash, and then he was on her, wrapping his big body around her and pulling her to the floor.

“I want you.” His hot open mouth moved ravenously over the tender flesh of her throat. “So badly it’s eating me alive.”

“Colin...” The feel of him, over six feet of potently aroused male, ignited her simmering passion to a raging fire. “We shouldn’t...”

“Nothing can stop it,” he said, his hand pushing open the halves of her robe and cupping her breast. “You belong to me.”

Her gaze turned to the door she had left open when she entered. “The door--”

His lips surrounded her nipple through her night rail. Amelia gasped and clutched his hair.

“Remember that night,” he whispered against her breast. “Remember how I felt inside you. Remember how deep...how I filled you...”

She quivered in longing, her blood hot, her ###### heavy and aching. His callused fingertips rolled and tugged at her nipple, sending waves of pleasure along the length of her body.

“Colin--”

He came over her and took her mouth, inundating her senses with the taste of brandy and the exotic spice that was uniquely his. She moaned in delight, sucking at his thrusting tongue in a desperate effort to drink in more of him.

Distantly, she felt his hands on her thighs. The chill of the evening air over feverish skin betrayed the lifting of her gown. As everything tightened and coiled in anticipation of his touch, Amelia whimpered into his mouth. His knee intruded between hers, urging her legs apart.

Shameless, she complied, spreading her thighs to give him access to the throbbing flesh at the apex.

Colin lifted his head and watched her as he cupped her sex in his hand. “You melt for me,” he breathed, his chest lifting and falling rapidly. He pushed two fingers inside her and she arched in helpless pleasure. “You were made for me.”

The feel of him there, where she ached, was too much. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she breathed, “Come in me. Fill me.”

His gaze darkened, the irises swallowed by dilated pupils. “There is so much I can do to your body, Amelia. So many ways to impart pleasure. Shall I show you what you will miss when we part?”

“You left me first.”

“I came back.” His seductive tone was in sharp contrast to the pain she saw on his features. “Will you come back? If I love you well enough...if I addict your body to mine...will you come back to me?”

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