‘What are you working on now?’ she asked.
He shrugged. ‘Basically hackwork. Making adjustments to the system to satisfy our clients’ requirements.’
‘You sound bored by it.’
‘Like changing babies’ nappies,’ he tossed at her with a teasing grin. ‘I enjoy being in on the creative process, just as you do. The birth of new ideas, new ways of attacking problems, is very exciting. But the run-of-the-mill stuff—a repetitive task that has to be done—it doesn’t raise a tingle in the mind, does it?’
Clever…linking it to her life. Was he patronising her? Would a genius really be interested in a nurse, apart from on a physical level?
‘Do you have any females on your technology team?’
He shook his head. ‘All men.’
‘No meeting of minds with a woman,’ she muttered, then flushed at having spoken such a revealing thought out loud.
‘On the contrary, I’m finding considerable pleasure in meeting yours. And connecting with it.’
Her flush deepened as heat raced around her bloodstream. Did he mean it or was he playing with her?
‘Tammy!’
Celine’s call distracted her from pursuing the question. She turned to her friend who was beckoning action.
‘Bring Fletcher over here and let the photographer pose you two in front of the magnolia. It should be a marvellous shot with your mauve dress. We can get it done before the others come back.’
‘Must oblige the bride,’ Fletcher murmured, instantly hooking her arm around his and leading her over to be posed with him.
Tammy couldn’t help revelling in being close to him again, measuring her own slight but very feminine figure against his powerful male physique as the photographer pressed them together, feeling the warmth of Fletcher’s arm around her waist, wondering what it would be like to have both his arms around her. There was to be dancing after the reception dinner. She would know then.
The wedding group returned in force and there was little opportunity for more really personal conversation during the rest of the photo shoot. Her friends were full of chatter, and their partners claimed Fletcher’s attention. The wedding guests arrived and were ushered out onto the top balcony of the house where they were served drinks and canapes as they socialised and watched the action in the grounds below, applauding the more novel poses, like the one of the five bridesmaids circling the bride with hands linked.
‘Very pretty,’ Fletcher remarked on that particular arrangement, his mouth quirking as he added, ‘Though I’ve never thought of Celine as a maypole.’
Tammy rolled her eyes at this ridiculous interpretation before setting him straight. ‘Today she is the star of our gang of six, and the rest of us were paying homage to her.’
‘Homage…because she got married?’ He looked incredulous. ‘Is that the ultimate peak of ambition for you and your friends?’
The hint of scorn in his voice stung her into a sharp reply. ‘Marriage is generally considered a huge milestone in one’s life, like birth and death…’
‘And divorce,’ he slid in.
‘Do you have to be so negative?’ she snapped.
‘I’m a realist.’ One black eyebrow lifted in challenge. ‘I thought you would be, too. Nursing might be a noble profession but it can’t leave you with too many illusions about people.’
‘You’re right. You see the best and the worst and everything in between, which gives me all the more reason to respect the best, to pay homage to it and celebrate it.’
So, criticise that at your peril! she mentally shot at him.
‘You think Celine now has the best…something you aspire to?’ he shot back at her.
He made it sound as though she and her friends were a bunch of empty-headed girls whose only goal in life was to get married. Okay, they might hope for it, wish for it, dream about it, but none of them thought it an ultimate ambition. It would only be good if they met the right guy, and Celine was certain Andrew was the one.
‘She believes it’s the best for her and I’m not about to put that down.’
It was a warning for him to stop doing it.
He didn’t, coming straight back with ‘How on earth could Celine know what’s best for her when she’s only twenty-three?’
Harping on her age again…being so superior with his older experience!
Tammy eyed him disdainfully. ‘What does knowledge have to do with it? Choosing a mate is more about instinct. Maybe all that brain work you do has choked off your instincts. You think too much and don’t trust natural feelings.’
He smirked. ‘If you’re talking about biological urges…’
He had them all right, and Tammy knew they were directed at her, but she wasn’t feeling so thrilled about that right now. In fact, she was downright offended that he had reduced her argument to nothing more than lust. ‘Instinct covers more ground than basic biological urges,’ she stated bitingly.
‘It starts with chemistry,’ he insisted.
He wasn’t taking her view onboard, wasn’t even giving it respect.
‘Well, let me tell you chemistry can be very swiftly switched off by other out-of-tune elements.’
He grinned. ‘Celine was right. You do have a smart mouth.’
‘She was right about you, too. You are arrogant, thinking you know better than everyone else.’
And before she could regret delivering that knock-out blow with her smart mouth, she tossed her head in the air and turned her back on him, walking off to place herself in the company of her like-minded friends. Where she stayed, for the rest of the time before the reception dinner, pointedly ignoring him, feeling strongly it was a matter of loyalty. She would not side with him against her friends, even if he was drop-dead gorgeous. The hormones he had stimulated could gallop as much as they liked. They were heading nowhere.
It was a relief when they finally sat down at the long wedding-party table and he was at the other end of it, out of sight and out of any possible contact—physical and verbal. Nevertheless, she found it difficult to get him out of her mind, despite chatting almost feverishly with her fellow bridesmaids. They, of course, wanted to know how it was going with Fletcher, but she dismissed that very firmly.
‘Forget it! The brain took over from the body and it wasn’t to my liking. Hunk is not everything!’
They ruefully agreed with this declaration and the subject was dropped. There was so much else to comment on: the wedding decor, the dressing of the guests, the food, the speeches—which Tammy privately decided Fletcher would consider a whole lot of sentimental claptrap, but which she thought were beautifully heartfelt and heart touching.