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of the stairwell.
    Maybe she was staying at the hotel.
    Turning, he eyed the clerk again. “How many rooms you got here?”
    The kid blinked. “Ah…fifty.”
    “Any idea how many are booked?”
    “All of them.” He didn’t even have to think before he answered. “Usually we don’t even half a third of that number booked, but there’s a big wedding…” his words trailed off and he shrugged. “We’re just busy this weekend.”
    The wedding. Narrowing his eyes, Boone turned away.
    Well, that would make things awkward, but he supposed it was possible he’d find her at the wedding.
    Taylor just might kick his ass over it, too.

 
     
     
Chapter Six
     
     
    “So how did it feel to hit Rodney?”
    Sloane winced and met Ellen’s gaze in the mirror.
    Ellen grinned at her. She sat on a low stool while her cousin coiffed and curled and combed her pale blonde curls into a confection of pearls and lustrous ringlets. She hadn’t yet put on her dress, although she wore the foundation pieces, stockings, garters, some sort of torture device that Ellen swore wasn’t uncomfortable, but Sloane knew she had to be lying. It was a corset—and a real, steel-boned corset. There was no way that could be comfortable.
    All of it was in the softest, gentle shade of ivory and Ellen’s peaches and cream complexion glowed against it.
    She looked beautiful, a slightly naughty angel in her state of undress. And she grinned at her soon-to-be sister in law with complete and utter surety. “You’re going to spill,” Ellen said after her cousin stepped out, giving the two of them a few moments to chat. Ellen, like Sloane, had lost her mother and her dad wasn’t in the picture. The two of them had bonded, hard and fast. “I already know what happened last night. I heard—from several sources. I just want confirmation.”
    I already know—
    Tensing, Sloane met Ellen’s eyes, searching for signs of the secret. But it wasn’t there.
    Just humor—a wicked glint of it.
    “Ah…”
    “Oh, come on. You only dreamed about doing it for months.”
    Blood rushed to Sloane’s cheeks. “I did not!” she said. Her hands were sweating. Okay, so yeah, she’d been kind of curious about sex. Why wouldn’t she be? She was twenty-three years old and up until a few hours ago, she’d been a virgin. Curiosity was expected .
    “Don’t give me that.” Ellen just sighed, shaking her head. “It had to feel good, after how he treated you.”
    Sloane scowled. “What do you mean, how he treated me?”
    Ellen frowned. “Are you okay? I mean, you talked about belting Rodney for months—I never did understand why you wouldn’t let your brothers do it, but then again, I didn’t have two big older brothers constantly stepping in like you did…okay, now what?”
    Sloane turned away, one hand pressed to her mouth to keep the half-hysterical giggle trapped inside. She was going crazy. Delusional from lack of sleep and maybe some weird high caused by massive orgasms after a lifetime of having the pitiful excuse she’d thought were climaxes. Too much excitement could probably strain a person’s mind, she thought. And last night had been more excitement than she’d ever experienced in her life.
    “Nothing,” she said, catching sight of Ellen getting of the stool where she’d been perched while they made her even more beautiful. “Look…I just…”
    She decided to ride the excuse of her crazy train. “I think I went a little crazy last night. I’ve…uh…” Plastering the widest, fakest smile she could on her face, she said in an overbright voice. “I’ve decided to pretend the entire thing never happened.”
    “Oh, come on .” Ellen rolled her eyes. “You can’t regret hitting him.”
    “Wanna bet?” She looked down at her raw, scraped knuckles. They were swollen, but not bad. She’d put ice on them once she’d gotten in her room and she’d ended up falling asleep with the bag of ice on her hand—that ice had melted and the cold