Drew was the worst guest ever. She followed him into the living room. “Don’t you have a car waiting?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t you think you should go downstairs and get in it?”
He blew into his hands. “No. He’ll wait. Do you want me to make the coffee?”
She let out a frustrated sigh. Drew was either utterly dense or deliberately trying to piss her off. He wasn’t stupid, so she was going with the latter. Surely he knew she had work to do and that she wanted him to leave.
She should just ask him to go. Damn her upbringing. Her mother would kick her butt if she found out she’d thrown out a guest, even if it was Drew. The Prestons always treated company with a smile. They were always polite.
Ugh. She wanted to boot his annoying ass right out the door. “No. I’ll make the coffee.”
She put water in her brewer and stuck a brew cup in, then pressed the button to start the warming process and grabbed a cup.
“Cream and sugar?” she asked him.
“Black is fine for me.”
She prepared her tea, then his coffee. “Why don’t we go into the living room and sit down?”
“Okay.”
She mentally relaxed her jaw, which had tightened when Drew had invited himself to stay. Thinking of all the sketching and notes she had to make, she forced her shoulders down and tried to relax.
Always be a good hostess. That was the Preston way. After all, he couldn’t stay all night long.
Could he?
She glanced at her watch. It was eleven thirty.
And it was going to be a long night.
• • •
DREW SHOULD HAVE BEEN A GOOD SPORT AND LEFT Carolina at the door, but there was something about this woman that got under his skin.
He couldn’t just let it go—let her go.
Besides, she was just so damn polite. She should have stopped him downstairs. Or at the door. She should have been rude to him and told him to take a hike. Instead, she’d been gracious, letting him come in when he’d given her that bogus excuse about needing to take a leak. Then she’d even made him coffee, when any other woman would have kicked his ass out the front door.
Typical Preston manners. He’d seen it plenty in Gray’s parents, especially his mother. God knew Gray didn’t have the same manners. Gray would kick your ass if you needed it, though he still possessed elements of etiquette—more so than any of the other guys, anyway.
But Carolina—she was a piece of work. He’d done his best to annoy her, and she still gave him the Preston stiff upper lip and air of politeness.
He’d really like to ruffle her feathers a little, to bring out the passion he knew lurked just under the surface. He’d made her burn once, had turned the ice queen into a molten, bubbling volcano of sexual lava. He’d seen glimpses of her today, when she thought he wasn’t looking. The glances she leveled at him, the way her body turned in his direction. It was like she wanted him, but she resisted.
He wanted that erupting volcano of a woman again, not this cool, reserved specimen of polite society.
He took a seat on her sofa, which he knew irritated her. She wanted him to leave. He wanted to talk to her. “Are you going to Washington to be with your family for Thanksgiving?”
“I don’t think I am. I have so much work to do. Are you going home?”