“Do you leer at and fondle all your unconscious patients, or am I special?” Ferron’s voice was as unexpected as a bucket of ice water. Helena started, her heart slamming into her throat as she snatched her hands away, her face scorching hot. “I was not,” she said, her voice tight and rising, even though she had no excuse for touching him that way. “I was just wondering about your body fat ratio.” “Of course you were,” he said, sitting up with a suggestive smirk.
