Between The Lines

Chapter 2

Amber had noticed most of Cormick Grayson's reassuringly placid qualities in almost the first moment she had introduced herself. That had been nearly three months ago when the temporary secretarial help agency had sent her out on assignment to his house. He had greeted her at the front door of his lakefront home just outside of Bellevue, Washington, with a politely appraising expression in his hazel eyes. He'd shaken her hand in a no-nonsense manner, introduced himself as Cormick Grayson and then instructed her to call him Gray. When she'd told him her name was Amber, he'd seemed genuinely amused by the fact that they both bore names related to colors.
Amber knew she probably hadn't impressed Grayson with her passable but somewhat limited secretarial skills. Typing was hardly her forte. Like many other women who found themselves temporarily out of work in their areas of expertise, Amber had fallen back on her basic ability to type. As she had told Cynthia, it was either that or wait tables until she was able to land a job in her field.
But two weeks into the assignment with Gray he had offered her full-time employment as his assiatant. Her typing wasn't anything special, he'd told her, but she had a head for business. It was not an altogether surprising discovery. Until recently Amber had worked inna high-powered advertising agency in Southern California. Among other skils she had an instinct for handling clients and an intuitive feel for business situations. She knew how to generate enthusiasm with a smile, a talent Gray found quite fascinating and useful in dealing with his clients.
And, perhaps most importantly, she didn't mind helping him with his research on the little known Wertern poet Sherborne Ulysses Twitchell. Amber waa secretly convinced that it was her tolerance on the latter subject that had got her the job offer. Notany people were inclined to be tolerant of the work of S. U. Twitchell. Amber had accepted the position as Gray's assiatant at once.
Tonight Grayson was offering marriage in the same casual, reasonable manner in which he'd offered Amber a job. Cormick Grayson did everything in a quiet, reasonable, unflamboyant manner. It was one of the things Amber appreciated about him. Nevertheless, the marriage proposal managed to take her by surprise.
"You're serious, aren't you?" she asked. "Very. It makes sense, Amber. We work well together, we respect each other, we enjoy each other's company. Our goals and interests are similar. I want you to give the matter serious consideration." He smiled self-deprecatingly. "I know I'm not the most passionately exciting man on the face of the earth, but you don't seem to be looking for passion or excitement."
Amber shook her head quickly, her eyes earnest. "No," she whispered, "you're absolutely right. I'm not looking for either." She'd had far too much of both six months ago with Roarke Kelly. The extreme highs and the equally extreme lows of her relatiosnhip with the championship race car driver had kept her off balance for two months before she'd finally pulled herself together long enough to put an end to the destructive whirlwind. Kelly had brought passion and fire and romance into her world on a scale that was larger than life. Amber had learned the hard way that she wasn't the kind of womanwho was cut out to cope with the turmoil such extremes of emotion cause.