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happy for you.”
    And she was. He could see as well as hear the absolute sincerity. It was typical of her to gain genuine pleasure from someone else’s good fortune, just as it was typical of her to suffer for someone else’s misfortune. Raven’s feelings ran deep, and he knew she’d never been afraid to show emotion. Her unaffectedness had always been a great part of her appeal. For the moment, she had forgotten to be cautious with Brand. She smiled at him as she held his hands.
    â€œSo that’s why you’re in California,” she said. “Have you already started?”
    â€œNo.” He seemed to consider something for a moment, then his fingers interlaced with hers. Her hands were narrow-boned and slender, with palms as soft as a child’s. “Raven, I meant what I said. I need a partner. I need you.”
    She started to remove her hands from his, but he tightened his fingers. “I’ve never known you to need anyone, Brandon,” she said, not quite succeeding in making her tone light. “Least of all me.”
    His grip tightened quickly, causing Raven’s eyes to widen at the unexpected pain. Just as quickly, he released her. “This is business, Raven.”
    She lifted a brow at the temper in his voice. “Business is usually handled through my agent,” she said. “You remember Henderson.”
    He gave her a long, steady look. “I remember everything.” He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes, swiftly controlled. “Raven,” his tone was gentler how. “I’m sorry.”
    She shrugged and gave her attention back to her tea. “Old wounds, Brandon. It does seem to me that if there was a legitimate offer, Henderson would have gotten wind of it.”
    â€œThere’s been an offer,” Brand told her. “I asked him to let me speak to you first.”
    â€œOh?” Her hair had drifted down, curtaining her face, and she flipped it behind her back. “Why?”
    â€œBecause I thought that if you knew we’d be working together, you’d turn it down.”
    â€œYes,” she agreed. “You’re right.”
    â€œAnd that,” he said without missing a beat, “would be incredibly soft-headed. Henderson knows that as well as I do.”
    â€œOh, does he?” Raven rose, furious. “Isn’t it marvelous the way people determine my life? Did you two decide I was too feeble-brained to make this decision on my own?”
    â€œNot exactly.” Brand’s voice was cool. “We did agree that left to yourself, you have a tendency to be emotional rather than sensible.”
    â€œTerrific. Do I get a leash and collar for Christmas?”
    â€œDon’t be an idiot,” Brand advised.
    â€œOh, so now I’m an idiot?” Raven turned away to pace the room. She had the same quicksilver temper he remembered. She was all motion, all energy. “I don’t know how I’ve managed all this time without your pretty compliments, Brandon.” She whirled back to him. “Why in the world would you want an emotional idiot as a collaborator?”
    â€œBecause,” Brandon said and rose, “you’re a hell of a writer. Now shut up.”
    â€œOf course,” she said, seating herself on the piano bench. “Since you asked so nicely.”
    Deliberately he took out another cigarette, lit it and blew out a stream of smoke, all the while his eyes resting on her face. “This is an important project, Raven,” he said. “Let’s not blow it. Because we were once very close, I wanted to talk to you face-to-face, not through a mediator, not through a bloody telephone wire. Can you understand that?”
    She waited a long moment before answering. “Maybe.”
    Brand smiled and moved over to her. “We’ll add stubborn to those adjectives later, but I don’t want you mad again.”
    â€œThen let me ask you something before you