Free All That You Are by Stef Ann Holm Page A

things to her insides. She’d felt as if her blood sped in different directions. The second he touched her, a cocktail of emotions invaded her body.
    That he could evoke such a strong awareness in her, and by only taking her hand—God help her if he ever tried to do anything else physical. If a simple touch could affect her, how would she react to his kiss?
    Dana groaned.
    Her wildly beating heart was the only sound in the bar. She’d shut off the jukebox long ago. All the lights were off except the one at the back bar. Everything was good to go. Just like she was.
    Another glance out the window. Still there.
    Leave, Moretti! she screamed inside her head.
    His talk about the parking lot being a danger zone had given her a mild case of paranoia. She had never had a moment’s trouble leaving the bar at night. Usually Leo or Walt was walking out with her, and on those nights they weren’t, she hadn’t felt afraid to head for her car.
    Ketchikan had its fair share of transient drunks whotried to stay dry in various buildings. For the most part, they were harmless. And the crimes were more often to property and not people. Although assaults occurred. She wasn’t stupid. She’d got into the habit of carrying a can of mace in her purse, as well as a whistle on her key chain.
    Tired and stressed, she wanted to go home. But she had the sinking feeling that Mark would wait her out. And win.
    There was no point in stalling any longer.
    So, on a resigned sigh, Dana locked the bar, then headed for her 1989 blue S-10 Chevy pickup.
    Ignoring Mark, she walked past him with her gaze straight ahead. But she could make him out in her peripheral vision. Muscular and on the alert, he stood with big arms folded over his chest and leaned into the tailgate of his truck.
    She didn’t want to talk to him anymore.
    Trying to fit her key into the lock, she didn’t like that her aim was unsteady. What was it about this man that could unhinge her so badly? Her response toward him encompassed more than chaos in her heart. His presence rattled her thoughts, her actions. She couldn’t prevent her pulse from triggering swiftly and misfiring.
    Glancing at Mark, she tossed her purse onto the bench seat then turned over the engine, anxious to be out of here.
    Only the engine didn’t start.
    She tried once more. Nothing.
    And again. Nothing, not even a click.
    Dead, dead, dead.
    Of all the unbelievable luck. Her battery was dead.
    Her hands on the steering wheel, she saw Mark push away from the full-size truck, his tall figure heading toward her. Under the low lights, his hair seemed blacker. A recollection of the faint strands of silver caught in her mind.
    He had on a lightweight black jacket that remained unzipped, displaying his broad chest and the crew-neck T-shirt underneath. Boot-cut jeans fit him nicely in the legs and hips. And everywhere else.
    She was digging inside her purse for her cell to call Leo when a soft rap on her window made her stop. Mark stood directly outside and motioned with his hand to lower the glass.
    Dread over the inevitable filled her as she cranked the window down a few inches.
    â€œPop the hood,” he commanded, and she was all but ready to tell him no. But the heavy-lidded look in his eyes was serious—he meant business.
    She felt for the release and pulled it.
    Mark leaned over the engine, fiddling with wires.
    She gave him a few seconds to feel macho about trying, then she slipped out of the S-10 to stand beside him.
    â€œIt’s dead,” she announced with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “It’s been touchy lately.”
    Turning toward her, he cocked his head. “And you’re driving it knowing it’s not reliable?”
    Indignance furrowed her brows. “Hey—it starts most of the time and when it doesn’t, a jump will get it going.”
    Raking his hair back from his forehead, he smirked. “Now if that isn’t