Jared apparently hadn't found it particularly special. Otherwise he wouldn't be so freaking determined to act as if it had never happened.

Her life had been turned upside down and inside out, while his-

Well, his clearly hadn't. Not if he could go from what they had shared back to treating her like good ol' Peej.

She'd probably stunk at it. She was twenty-eight years old and hardly a virgin, but neither did she have a lot of know-how on her side. She'd been nineteen the first time she'd done the deed, years behind most of the girls she'd known. Nineteen when Johnny Ripley had sweet-talked her out of her panties in the bed of his pickup truck down at the end of the dirt road next to old man Hemming's orchard. The experience had been messy and uncomfortable and had cured her of her crush on Johnny but good.

It had improved with the next guy, but not by leaps and bounds. Same thing with the guy after that-it had been better, but not by much. The truth was, she'd mostly been too busy trying to get her foot in the music-industry door to bother with it much.

Then Jared had come roaring back into her life and introduced her to Sex with a capitalSsss.

And at the risk of repeating herself, she'd probably stunk like a skunk at it.

Well, she didn't care. So what if he was some hotshot stud between the sheets and she did the wild thing with all the expertise of the thirteen-year-old he'd known back when? She had other skills. Hell, dollars to doughnuts the only place Jared could carry a tune was in the shower.

But that wasn't a place she cared to picture him in, since she knew only too well how good he looked in it. They'd made love there, too.

Besides, maybe he was sorry they had done itbecause of his memories of the girl she'd once been. Or it was possible that he didn't like women who made the first move. Of course, if she'd waited for him to make it, they probably never would have had sex at all, and she refused to be sorry that they had. Or maybe-

"Arrgh!" She thunked her head against the window.

"You okay?" Nell asked vaguely, looking up from the score she'd been laboring over night and day since L.A.

"Yeah, sure."Ducky. She dredged up a smile for her friend, but inside she was screaming,Get me out of here! It was only eight a.m. and already she was sick of being cooped up on this bus with everyone.

It had never occurred to her when they'd first set out on this tour that such close contact with her band might develop into a problem. And, really, it hadn't-at least not into a big one. But she had to get away for a while. Maybe check into a nice hotel, sign herself up for a few spa treatments. They were a good eight hours away from the sound check for tonight's show, and what was the point of being a big-whoop singing sensation if she couldn't get away every now and then to enjoy the benefits? Everyone was a little edgy from so much togetherness; they were beginning to rub on each other's nerves.

About the only one who hadn't gotten on hers the past several days was Nell. That was a two-edged sword though, because not only did her friend have her hands full with managerial duties, she'd been spending every moment not devoted to her paying job hunched over her music sheets, composing. Songwriting drew her deep inside herself. P.J. knew how time-consuming it could be, and she respected the process too well to interrupt the flow.

At the same time, she was tired of tiptoeing around. She hadn't turned the television on or the stereo up for days now for fear of disturbing Nell's concentration. Running would have been an outlet, but even that had been denied her more often than not. Jared insisted she only run when he could accompany her but then he'd had one excuse after another not to do so. And her stress levels had kept building and building.

Until she felt ready to explode.

Well, she'd reached her saturation point. Between being back in Denver and being stuck in close quarters with Jared, wondering every damn time she opened a door if he'd be on the other side of it-knowing that even if he was he'd only ignore the fact they'd had sheet-scorching sex-she needed to clear her head. Needed to gain some perspective.

They were playing three cities on this leg of the tour. Tonight's show was near here. Denver was centrally located between the other two cities, and following the Colorado College gig in Colorado Springs tomorrow night they even had an honest-to-God day off before playing Fort Collins. So her mind was made up. She was getting herself a big private room and commuting to the next three concerts.

Jared, of course, would feel that it was his job to accompany her, which would defeat the purpose of the exercise. So why tell him? It wasn't like there'd been any further contact from the weirdo in Bakersfield. That disturbingly doctored magazine spread thankfully had been a one-shot deal.

While Marvin pulled into the Red Rock Amphitheater's lot west of town, talked to an attendant, then jockeyed the bus into a space reserved for performers, P.J. came up with a possible way to get out from under Jared's indifferent yet watchful eyes. Going back to the stateroom, she packed a small overnight bag and made two phone calls.

When she came out again she collected her backstage pass from Nell. For one crazy moment she considered simply making a break for the door, but knew she wouldn't get far. So she asked for Jared's pass, as well, then walked over to him where he still sat at the table. "Come with me."

Placing his finger in his book to mark his place, he looked up at her. "Where?"

"I want to check out my dressing room." Seeing his gaze grow wary didn't exactly knock her on her butt with surprise, considering what had happened the last time they'd been in one together. But it stabbed her to the quick.

No.She sucked in a breath, straightened her spine. His suspicion didn't hurt; it pissed her off. Just what did he think she was going to do, demand heservice her? "Look," she snapped, "I can go by myself, if you'd rather not. You're the one who keeps harping about taking someone with me every damn place I go."

"Did I say no? Christ. Give me a minute to change gears." He climbed to his feet and followed her off the bus, his book still in hand.

They didn't speak, and a tension that neither acknowledged grew with every step that brought them closer to the assigned room. When they reached a door with her name on it, he took a step back and looked at her with shuttered eyes. "I'll wait out here."

"Whatever. I'm not rushing for you, though, so you might wanna get comfortable." She nodded at his book. "You may just get to finish that." Opening the door, she paused to glance at him over her shoulder. "You want to-" A huge yawn caught her unawares and she went with the flow, dropping her bag to stretch her arms in opposite directions as she inhaled a lungful of air, then expelled it in a long, squeaky, attenuated breath. "Sorry," she said once it passed. "You want to come in and grab a chair?"

Taking another brisk step back, he tipped his chin toward the corridor they'd just traversed. "I saw one down by those props. I'll go grab that."

"Suit yourself." She essayed an indifferent shrug even though her first inclination was to break into a happy dance.

She walked into the room but immediately stepped back out into the hall when he strode away. Slipping off her sandals, she watched until he was halfway down the long hallway, then grabbed her bag, eased the dressing room door closed behind her and raced down the corridor in the opposite direction. Reaching the exit, she glanced back and saw him leaning over a stack of old scenery. His shirt strained across his shoulders, his jeans pulled tight over his muscular butt, and for a moment she stood frozen, staring at him. Then she caught herself and pushed through the door before he could see her. She put her shoes back on and jogged around to the front of the venue.

A taxi arrived scant moments after she'd reached the arena's main entrance and she slid inside. "Hotel Teatro in Denver, please."

The morning rush-hour traffic doubled what should have been a twenty-minute ride back to Denver, but eventually the cab pulled up to the long sidewalk awning that protected patrons of the boutique hotel from the elements as they crossed the sidewalk to the ornate front entrance. A doorman came forward to open her door.

"Good morning, miss."

"Good morning." She relinquished her overnight bag to the bellman who came out for it, then followed him into the hotel. Pausing inside, she managed to take in the sweeping staircase, the rich use of marble throughout the lobby and the intricate ceiling without gawking. It was a near thing though, for first-rate hotels were still pretty new to her. Trying her best to project an image of a woman who frequented places like this all the time, she turned through the archway to her left to check in at the front desk.

In short order she'd been escorted to her suite and shown the amenities. She tipped the bellman, closed the door behind him and leaned back against the smooth wood with a sigh of relief. Then she pushed away and went into the bedroom to unpack. After calling room service she flopped down to watch a morning show while she waited for her breakfast to arrive. Propping her feet on the coffee table, she gazed around contentedly. This was heaven.

Not long after she'd finished eating, however, she began to grow antsy. For all that she'd been dying for some privacy, she was accustomed to being surrounded by people. And without someone to share it with she didn't quite know what to do with the entire day that stretched in front of her.