Sienna clenched her fists, staring at the king-size bed in the middle of the room as though it were a time bomb about to explode.
"You’re kidding, right?" Sienna’s voice rose an octave. She whipped around to face Mateo. "One bed? For both of us?"
Mateo strolled across the thick carpet, set the key card on the desk, then rubbed his exhausted face. "This room is called an executive suite, not a two-bedroom apartment. You should’ve figured that out from the start."
"How was I supposed to know?" Sienna planted her hands on her hips, still slightly out of breath. "The front-desk clerk only said suite! Suites usually have a sofa bed or a separate bedroom!"
"And there’s no sofa bed here," Mateo replied flatly. He undid the top button of his shirt, rolled his neck, then pointed at the small sofa in the corner. "It’s too short. My feet would hang off the end if I slept there."
"So you’re saying I’m the one who has to sleep on that miniature sofa?" Sienna glared, unable to believe the way the man in front of her was thinking. "I just ran through the rain in broken shoes, my dress is torn, and you expect me to sleep on a sofa that isn’t even a meter wide?"
Mateo let out a long breath. He looked Sienna up and down. Her wet curls, slightly smeared eye makeup, and exhausted body. The faintest stir of pity moved through Mateo’s chest, but his ego and his own exhaustion were locked in a fierce battle.
"I’m paying half the cost of this room, Mateo," Sienna declared, pointing at her own chest. "By the laws of fairness and residential rights, I’m entitled to half that bed."
"My name is Mateo Sterling, and in my world, rights are determined by whoever holds the power," Mateo said coldly. But the moment the words left his mouth, he realized his tone had been too sharp.
Sienna laughed scornfully. "Oh, so the big CEO doesn’t want to share a bed with an ordinary person? Then go ahead and get out and find another hotel. The door’s still wide open."
Mateo looked at the exit, then shifted his gaze to the large window, which revealed the pouring rain and rows of reporters’ car lights below. He drew a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper.
"I can’t leave," Mateo admitted quietly. Some of the authority had faded from his voice. "And neither can you."
Sienna crossed her arms, but she didn’t argue. She knew Mateo was right. The two men sent by her ex-fiancé were surely still stationed around the hotel lobby.
"So," Sienna said slowly, "what’s your plan?"
Mateo walked to the bed and snatched two of the four fluffy pillows neatly arranged there. With quick, precise movements, he lined the pillows across the exact center of the bed, dividing it into two equally sized sections.
Sienna frowned. "What are you doing?"
"This is the dividing wall," Mateo said firmly, pointing at the line formed by the pillows. "The left side is yours, and the right side is mine. Don’t cross this line, don’t touch my things, and don’t even try to talk to me while I’m asleep."
Sienna stared at the arrangement of pillows, then looked at Mateo in astonishment. "You built a pillow fort? How old are you, anyway? Eight?"
"This is the most rational way to keep us from killing each other before morning," Mateo replied without the slightest hint of a smile. He picked up his small garment bag, which he had managed to save, and headed toward the bathroom. "I’m using the bathroom first. Fifteen minutes."
"Hey! I’m the one who’s soaking wet here!" Sienna shouted as the frosted-glass bathroom door began sliding shut.
"Fourteen minutes," Mateo’s voice came from behind the door, accompanied by the sound of the lock turning.
"What an obnoxious man," Sienna muttered.