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New York Doc, Thailand Proposal
Worlds apart...
But reunited by love!
Surgeons Layla and Arlo once shared a connection like no other, but they’re total opposites: Layla’s heart belongs to New York, while Arlo won’t ever work in a big-city hospital. Only, when Arlo’s remote practice needs her help, Layla finds herself heading out to Thailand! As they work side by side, Layla begins to see jungle life through Arlo’s eyes... Is a proposal in paradise enough to give life together a second chance?
Starting with non-fiction, DIANNE DRAKE penned hundreds of articles and seven books under the name JJ Despain. In 2001 she began her romance-writing career with The Doctor Dilemma. In 2005 Dianne’s first Medical Romance, Nurse in Recovery, was published, and with more than twenty novels to her credit she has enjoyed writing ever since.
Also by Dianne Drake
Doctor, Mummy…Wife?
The Nurse and the Single Dad
Saved by Doctor Dreamy
Bachelor Doc, Unexpected Dad
Second Chance with Her Army Doc
Her Secret Miracle
Sinclair Hospital Surgeons miniseries
Reunited with Her Army Doc
Healing Her Boss’s Heart
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
New York Doc, Thailand Proposal
Dianne Drake
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-1-474-09019-3
NEW YORK DOC, THAILAND PROPOSAL
© 2019 Dianne Despain
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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Text to speech
To Mike Cramer, one of the hardest-working
and best doctors I ever knew.
The world is a little less bright without you,
my friend. RIP.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Note to Readers
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
EPILOGUE
Extract
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
“I KNOW WHAT we were, Mother. But two years deserves a better ending than what we had, and when this opportunity came...”
Dr. Oliver Benedict, Layla Morrison’s boss, mentor and, yes, Arlo’s grandfather, had three spots open for volunteers—specifically the three candidates he was looking at to be his new assistant chief of surgery.
“No, I don’t know if Arlo knows I’m the one Ollie picked for this assignment. It’s only been five days from the time he gave me the nod until now, and Ollie specifically said communication with Arlo wasn’t always available. So, yes, I might be a surprise.”
But the need was legitimate. According to Ollie, Arlo was alone right now. His medical assistant had gone home to India for a while and after living with Arlo for two years herself, and listening to him talk about the way he wanted to practice medicine here, in Thailand, Layla knew what she was getting herself into.
Jungle medicine. Nothing easy. Nothing convenient. It was hard work. Sometimes backbreaking. And it was so embedded in Arlo’s heart it had caused their break-up. Two years into their relationship and the call of the jungle had beaten her.
“NO, I don’t know if this will give me a lock on a promotion, but it will finally give me some closure. We didn’t have that. It was too difficult at the end and we were both hurt. So, I’m hoping that this will help me, maybe even Arlo, finally move on.”
Layla had had one disastrous attempt at a relationship after Arlo and had compared everything Brad did against the way Arlo had done it. Nothing could compare, though, and now it was time to fix that so she could finally move on with her personal life since the professional side was rolling along quite nicely.
Layla was one of the top general surgeons in Ollie’s practice, highly regarded for her skills, in line for a promotion. That part was just what she wanted and, finally, she had time to look beyond that, to having a life outside medicine. Except there was Arlo. She hadn’t been able to shake him off. Not in the physical sense, but in the emotional. All the what-ifs? They wouldn’t let go, so now it was time to purge them and move on.
Layla sighed loudly enough for her mother to hear. “Look, it’s only two months, then I’ll be home and hopefully in a new position. Ollie hinted that I’m the forerunner. So, please, just wish me luck here because working in a jungle hospital scares me a little bit.” But not as much as facing Arlo after all this time.
“Yes, Mother, I’ll be careful. And tell Daddy thanks for the SUV. The way these roads are turning out to be, it’s exactly what I needed.” Her dad had made a couple of phone calls and, just like magic, it had been waiting for her at the airport. But he had connections here in Thailand. In fact, he had connections everywhere so what he’d done for Layla had been easy. Everything her parents had ever done for her had made her life easier. Which was one of the reasons Arlo had always called her spoiled. She’d taken advantage of that from time to time. Until Arlo had pointed that out.
Still, her parents always supported her in what she wanted to do. Sometimes the support was a little grudging, since their ideas of what they wanted for her were entirely different from what Layla wanted for herself. But there hadn’t been a time since she was a little girl that she’d seen herself as anything other than a doctor, and now Layla was on her way to do some doctoring in the jungle with a man who’d been her partner for two years. Talk about an improbable situation.
“Two years,” she said out loud, as she swerved to miss a rut in the dirt road. Arlo Benedict had been at her level during their medical residency, and the arrangement to share an apartment had been a practical one. For Arlo, it had been about money. His grandfather, Ollie, had been supporting him through school, but just barely, since his own surgery was quite costly to operate. And Arlo’s parents—they were like Arlo was now. Jungle doctors, living on practically nothing.
When Layla had first met Arlo, he’d been struggling. Not complaining, though. But his life had been hard, and he hadn’t had many extras. No going out with friends for pizza and beer. Working an extra job when he’d really needed to be studying. He had been so dedicated—dedicated in a way she’d never seen in anyone, and she admired that. Plus, he was easy on the eye, and maybe she’d had a little crush.
She didn’t know for sure, but when she’d mentioned she had a bedroom to rent, he’d jumped at the chance. Layla had told herself that having someone there was simply a matter of practicality. But in the case of asking Arlo to be her roomie, it had possibly been something more. Certainly, she’d been open to suggestions at the time. He had been smart, drop-dead gorgeous and quite emphatic that he’d be gone once his residence was completed.
Arlo had come with everything she’d wanted, and something she hadn’t wanted—a long-term relationship. She hadn’t been about to tie herself up that way until she’d started climbing the ladder, and that had still been a long way off.
Well, she had been wrong about the relationship. Just being with Arlo had made her want to be with him all the more. No, he had not been a long-termer and, yes, he had been clear he wouldn’t stay. But being with Arlo for two years had changed her. Made her want things she hadn’t known she wanted. Made her want Arlo in ways she’d known he hadn’t been available.
Had it been the challenge of him, or the allure? Probably some of both. But when her real feelings had started getting in the way, the allure had taken over in a big way. Not that it mattered because, in the end, he’d left her. It was always his plan, he’d told her. But she’d truly thought she could change his mind.
Unfortunately, Layla couldn’t. And their ending had been bad. Arguments they’d never had before. Shouting. Crying. Naturally, she’d blamed Arlo for everything but, deep down, she’d always known she couldn’t hang onto him. She’d just tried ignoring it.
Initially, Arlo’s resistance at accepting her offer, and he did resist, had been quelled by her declaration that theirs would be a friends-only situation. Sure, she’d wanted more. Which, as it had turned out, had been the case with Arlo as well. And within two weeks a cozy night when two weary surgical residents had shared a bottle of wine and a bowl of popcorn on the couch had turned into...
Of course, there’d been early morning promises that what they’d done was a one-time thing. Except it wasn’t. For two years. Now, nearly five years down the road, while Layla was perfectly on track with her career, Arlo was the loose end she needed to tie up because she didn’t want to be alone for the rest of her life. Because she was a total washout when it came to relationships—just ask Brad, her only attempt at another relationship after Arlo. Then there was the whole ticking of the biological clock thing going on. Yet she couldn’t take that step forward because—well, she was blaming it on their lack of closure, even though they’d both known, at the start, that Arlo would eventually go one way and she another.
It had seemed easy enough when they’d talked about it, but when the time had come, it wasn’t. Had Layla loved Arlo then? Yes, in a lot of different ways. But had she loved him enough to give up her dreams to follow his? No. Absolutely not. And neither had he been prepared to give up his dreams for her.
So, why was she here? To be honest with herself, she’d jumped at the chance before she’d thought it through. And once she’d committed, she wasn’t going to back down. Her plan—her only plan—to earn this promotion was do everything required to move her forward.
To back out of two months in a Thailand jungle hospital with her former lover would shove her back, not push her forward. So, here she was, feeling a lot of trepidation about Arlo’s reaction if Ollie hadn’t contacted him yet, and scared to death of a two-month commitment that, at one point in her life, might have turned into a lifetime commitment, had things worked out differently.
As her dad always said, Whatever it takes to get you to the next level. And while Layla didn’t know if this assignment would do that, it would certainly allow her to experience a side of medicine she knew little about. That, if nothing else, was a good thing as it would help make her a better doctor. So in two months she could be a better doctor who’d finally shut the door on an old relationship. It was good. All good because she needed Ollie to see she was a team player. Sometimes she wasn’t. Layla knew her reputation—she could be a little aloof, sometimes standing alone.
But growing up the way she had, with a photojournalist father who made documentaries all over the world, and her mother a film actress who, like her father, worked all over the world, she’d learned to be independent at a young age. Sometimes she could be too independent, which wasn’t necessarily in her best interest all the time. Even she recognized that. Although Arlo had pointed that out as well. More times than she cared to remember.
Still, most memories Layla had of her parents were of one or both of them walking away from her, going off in pursuit of their careers, which, if nothing else, had been the impetus for her independence. Arlo walking away had simply shored up what was already there—the notion that she wasn’t worth hanging around for. And for Layla, hiding behind the stone wall of independence she’d built around herself was easier than risking another rejection. She’d assumed that over time she’d learn to be happy there. Well, happy enough.
But sometimes the memories of a bottle of wine and a bowl of popcorn and what that had started did slip in. They hung on more tenaciously than almost any other memory of her life. And it was because of that memory Layla had been stalled in a place where there was no room for her. Where she wasn’t wanted. A place she had to fix and move beyond.
While this trip to Thailand to work with Arlo had been providential, it was also necessary. It was her chance to prove to herself that the feelings she’d had for Arlo were simply feelings meant only for that time and place, and had no bearing on anything else in her life. Then, and even now.
So, where was she anyway? Normally a quick check of an online map site was all Layla needed, but there was no cell reception out here, let alone a road that had been charted on a map. So she was only guessing she was headed in the right direction. A direction where she didn’t expect modern facilities, let alone the basics like running water and electricity.
That’s what Arlo had told her he’d come from, and that’s what he’d always said would be the kind of place he would practice his medicine. He’d grown up in the jungle, traveled with his parents, who were both doctors. And it’s what he’d said he wanted for his own life as he simply fit there better. Shortly, she would see if he did.
Layla looked ahead of her, saw a man riding atop an elephant and nearly ran herself off the road staring at him. It wasn’t the elephant that got her, though, not even the crater she swerved to avoid hitting. It was the wavering turn out of the swerve that wobbled her back and forth across the road. Unfortunately, it resulted in her landing in a drainage ditch with a flat tire, the front end down, back end up. Royally stuck and—she checked her phone even though it was pointless, and the result was what she expected—there was no way to contact anyone, anywhere.
“Damn it,” Layla huffed, throwing her phone back into the car as she stood alone on the road, trying to figure out what to do. “No bars. Not a single, lousy blip on the bar indicator.” Her first test out here, and she was already failing it.
After walking around her car several times, assessing and reassessing the situation, Layla finally sat down in the dirt, hoping someone would come by to help her. Someone in a truck with a tow rope, she hoped. Maybe even Arlo? But the only person who did pass was a withered little old man with a pushcart filled with fruits and herbs. He smiled graciously at her, then began a long-winded discussion, none of which she understood. After he finished speaking, he tipped his straw hat to her, picked up the hand grips of his cart and meandered on down the road at a pace that would favor a snail in a race.
“Well, so much for that,” Layla said, deciding to hike on down the road and hope that somewhere along the way she stumbled on someone who could help her. Or maybe even stumble on the village itself.
* * *
An hour later, making very little progress due to the road conditions, Layla stopped to rest, sitting down on a roadside rock and watching some kind of wild pig munching the droppings of a papaya tree. And this was why she and Arlo hadn’t succeeded at their relationship. They’d talked about it ad nauseam for the last few months they’d been together. While she’d never been in the jungle, she could see it in detail through Arlo’s description. There were good people here, leading extremely hard lives, in a place where nothing came easily. Transportation was limited, according to Arlo. As were communications. It was his passion, and she didn’t condemn him for it. But it wasn’t her passion. She wasn’t the kind of person who could survive here. Even two months were beginning to seem like an eternity.
“You and your passion, Arlo,” Layla grumbled, as she stood to resume her hike. Much to her surprise, the little man with the pushcart was coming back into view. Slowly.
Was he coming to rescue her? Her knight in shining armor? A man with a receding hairline, bushy gray eyebrows and some wispy chin fringe?
Naturally, when he arrived at her side, he was already chattering words she still didn’t understand. His gestures were clear, though. She was to climb into the part-empty cart and be pushed wherever he wanted to take her. “Village by the big fig tree,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t understand the English interpretation of the village’s name. But she couldn’t pronounce it in Thai and any mispronounced attempt might land her someplace she didn’t want to go, so she pointed to a small fig tree sapling off the side of the road, then attempted to gesture a much larger tree. Wouldn’t Arlo just laugh at her now, standing in the middle of nowhere playing a game of charades?
“Big fig tree,” Layla said a couple of times, even though the man had no idea what she was saying. He smiled, though, let her charade herself into more embarrassment before he gestured her to the cart again. Her taxi was waiting, and she couldn’t have been happier to see it, despite the prickly straw in the bottom, and the caged chickens she had to share her ride with. Oh, and the dog. The little old man had picked up a scraggly, lap-sized brown and white mutt somewhere along the way.
So, forcing a gracious smile, Layla climbed in, found a spot among the other passengers and shut her eyes. All those years ago, when Arlo had walked away from her, calling her too damned ambitious, it had hurt, even though it was true. Today—right this moment—she was glad her ambitions had kept her in modern society, as this was simply too hard already, and she hadn’t even started.
Maybe it was what Arlo wanted from his life, living here and practicing jungle medicine, and maybe he was one of the most benevolent, altruistic and humane people she’d ever known, but none of this was for her, and if she hadn’t known it then, she surely did now.
* * *
“Of all the doctors in the world, he sent you?” Arlo shook his head, not in disbelief so much as amusement. “You working in the jungle is as improbable as me working in a modern hospital somewhere. But you’ve certainly got the skill I need, so...” He visibly bit back a laugh. “Welcome.”
Layla opened her eyes, which she’d purposely kept shut so she could avoid the full picture of her impetuous volunteering, and there he was, taking away her breath the way he always had. Only maybe a little more since the jungle setting made him seem...better.
Tall, roguishly handsome as ever and a little weathered, which became him. His blond hair looked sun bleached, and it was long, still with its gentle curl. She’d always liked those curls and the way they had felt in her fingers. And the penetrating blue eyes that still penetrated. But the thing that had always attracted her most were his dimples. Honest-to-gosh sexy dimples when he smiled.
“I’d have made my grand entrance differently if I could have, but I suppose this works,” she said as she picked straw from her hair. “Oh, and to answer your question, yes, he sent me.”
“He didn’t tell me it was you he was sending,” Arlo said.
“Probably because he was as surprised as I was that it was my hand that went up first to volunteer. Also, because he couldn’t get in touch with you.”
“Ah, yes. It’s all about the soon-to-be-open assistant chief position, isn’t it? When he told me he was going to announce it, I assumed you’d be the one fighting to get to the front of the line. Didn’t count on Ollie sending you out here as part of your climb up his ladder, though. Especially since we haven’t spoken in five years.”
“Three,” she corrected. “We spoke that time you came to New York to visit him.”
“One word, Layla. You said hello in passing.”
“And you acknowledged it by bobbing your head and grunting.”
“That’s not exactly speaking.”
“I was civil,” she said, trying to right herself in the cart, wishing Arlo would help her out so she wouldn’t look quite so undignified. But he was standing back, arms folded across his chest, the way he’d always done when they’d argued. So, was he expecting this to turn into an argument? “And in a hurry.”
“You were always in a hurry, Layla. And I’m assuming it’s paying off, taking on more and more just to prove yourself to him.”
“Not denying it,” she said.
“Nope, you never did. I think I saw that in you the first time we met.”
Of course, Arlo could see what he wanted to see in her. That was part of their fundamental problem. What he wanted versus what she wanted. Or, in their case, needed. “Part of my basic make-up, I suppose. But I never heard you object,” she said, stepping out of the cart, trying not to disturb the chickens while also trying to shoo the dog back in.
“Probably because I didn’t object. I liked your ambition. I was raised by pacifist parents who took things as they came, which is pretty much my style. Someone with your kind of ambition—I don’t recall ever seeing it in anyone before you. Not living in the jungle for as long as I did. It was an eye-opener for me, and also...well, sexy.”