"You've got five minutes to get ready," Clive said, his voice lazy but laced with heat. "Or I'll come in and help you dress - though I can't promise we'll make it out on time."
Paisley chucked a pillow at him.
"Get out! I need to change!" she snapped.
Clive left with a grin he tried to hide. Not long after, the butler approached him. "Sir, the bags Mrs. Hughes bought today... there's no space left in storage. Should we use one of the guest rooms for now?"
Bags?
Clive finally figured out what all that credit card swiping went toward. Ah, the good ol' healing power of handbags.
He nodded, then watched as the staff carried in luxury bag after luxury bag - each one worth tens of thousands - into a guest room.
Paisley stepped out just in time to catch sight of her precious collection being carted away.
"Hold on, keep three here. I'm taking them with me," she ordered. After all, they were heading to the Harrington family home, and Clive's three sisters-in-law were nothing if not cunning.
In her past life, she had suffered thanks to her bluntness - this time, she wasn't about to let them get the upper hand.
"You feeling the pinch yet? Emotional pain or just your wallet crying? Either way, it's your black card I used," she said, eyeing Clive and shifting into full taunt mode.
But he didn't take the bait.
"Husband makes money, wife spends it. That's how it's supposed to go," he shot back smoothly.
If Paisley was aiming to trigger him, she missed. Instead, she ended up being the one flustered by his teasing.
"What are you sitting there for? Be useful and carry those bags to the car!" she huffed, not bothering to hide her irritation.
She might play the villain today, but Clive clearly had no intention of backing out. And with the Harrington clan looming on the horizon, she had zero time to coddle his feelings.
Honestly, she should've bought more - next time she needed him to really feel it.
*****
"Sir, madam, this way please," the Harrington family butler said politely. He'd been waiting outside the ancestral home to greet them - they were newlyweds, and Clive was the current head of the family. Respect was mandatory.
It was Paisley's second time here, apart from the wedding. Clive had three older brothers, and not a single one of their wives was easy to deal with.
Paisley linked arms with Clive like the perfect newlywed couple. They looked like they were still very much in that honeymoon phase.
During dinner, Clive held up the gentleman act well - he even pulled out her chair. Honestly, Paisley had to admit, his acting was Oscar-worthy.
Still, she wasn't one to be outplayed easily. It didn't matter if the rest of the family didn't like her - if she could get on Grandpa Alfred Harrington's good side, she'd be golden.
But watching Clive so smug, she couldn't help whispering in his ear, "Wanna get scolded by Grandpa?"
She was referring to that lunch Clive had with his ex. If she decided to rat him out to Grandpa, he'd be toast.
Clive casually picked up a piece of beef for Paisley and, in a low voice only she could hear, said, "Easy now. I'll make it up to you with a limited edition bag later."
Thinking he'd finally panicked, Paisley smirked with satisfaction.
What she didn't realize was that every person at that table had their eyes on them - and from the way the two of them were leaning close and whispering, everyone just assumed this newlywed couple was totally smitten.
