rtification. She couldn't bring herself to move

etition more surreal than the last. This was a hospital. He was a doctor. This was a medical ex

ith apparent calm, though his pulse wa

is voice steady but with an underlying

een them, loaded with meaning

s a doctor who'd see

d he had

right? Doctors said strange, blunt things all the tim

positioned herself on the bed, bu

an said, his voice growing rougher despit

pered, her hands clutchi

m his body. His breathing had become slightly uneven, and when sh

en't doctors supposed to be indifferent to this sort of thing? We

he said softly. "F

ana squeezed her eyes shut and slowly

n saw her, his ja

swollen, clear evidence of th

tly, the words escaping b

body went rigid

s he wasn't apologizing as a doctor at all. The thought surfaced before she could stop i

tarily, including the inti

i-inflammatory cream from the nearby medical

the swelling," he mur

flesh, applying the cool cream with gentle circ

mortification, she felt herself responding-not

ite everything, despite the clinical setting, desp

smile tugged at the

while continuing his ministrations. "There are no other symptoms, no rashes

, his touch both clinical and intimate, watchi

nd removed his gloves, Alana q

he said, walking toward t

tuation. It was over. It was finally over. In a minute she would walk out of this room,

out to flee, the door

, her expression shifting from mild an

doing here? When did yo

miliarity, not professional courtesy. And she had called him by name-th

an replied casually, but there w

th growing alarm. Her gaze snapped to the discarded gloves, the opened tube of cream,

t a li

, as if from a great distance, refusing to f

Alana like a

n't a

ver been