New York Doc, Thailand Proposal

by Dianne Drake

  Arlo crossed over to her and pulled her into his arms. “You know this is where you belong, don’t you?”

  “I think I’ve always known that, even though I wouldn’t admit it.”

  “There were two of us in that, Layla. Not just you alone. And suddenly it’s not so easy. I’ve been rehearsing this since the day you left. Wanted to make sure I’d get it right before I came after you. Thought I’d finally got myself to the place where I could go through with it. But what I’m going to say scares me because it can change so many things—for both of us.”

  “With the way you live, I’d have thought change would be the least of your worries.”

  “The least, yet the biggest. That day you left... I was angry at first. Then resigned. Then hurt. I went through just about every emotion you can think of, trying to figure what I needed to do to make it right. Or if I should just let it go. Before I’d gone to Bangkok to get my dad, I’d decided to come back and tell you that I would come back here with you, love you, support you and do whatever it would take to make you happy because you were more important than anything else in my life. Like I told you, everybody always had other plans for me, and I think some of what I was doing was simply to prove that I didn’t need to be the object of anybody’s pity.

  “Where I was—I was poor. You knew that. And that was never going to change. Yet there you were, giving me gifts that cost a fortune, which only pointed out even more vividly just how poor I was. That, in turn, kept me from getting truly involved with you because I was afraid I’d always be seen as the one who wasn’t capable of making it on my own. That I’d always need a handout.

  “Yet here were these people who looked up to me. They didn’t care that I didn’t have proper boots or a decent vehicle. They cared for me the way I was. And it felt good, Layla. Damned good.”

  “I cared for you the way you were, Arlo.”

  “But always wanted to change me in subtle ways. And some not so subtle ways, too. The first time anyway. Then the second time I could still see it in you—all the questions you asked about why I was doing what I was doing. Every time you asked, it felt like I was letting you down by not being someone different. Yet the villagers loved me for who I am. It’s quite a conflict, when you think about it.”

  “I never meant that,” she said.

  “I know. But sometimes it’s hard to overcome your feelings, no matter how stupid they are.”

  “Or well founded. I know I gave you reason to think I believed you needed to change. Originally. I thought you did. But that was for my benefit, Arlo. Who you were and who I was—you were so far above me I knew that you’d catch onto it eventually. But if I could keep you tied to me in some way, it would work out. At least, that’s what I thought.”

  “Why did you really come to Thailand?” he asked.

  “It was my excuse to see you again. To see if anything was still there. But I also wanted that promotion—wanted it badly enough to work with a former lover under the worst of conditions.”

  “And?”

  “That lasted until the first moment I saw you. Then everything changed, even though I didn’t want to admit it.”

  “Yet you’re admitting it now.”

  “I’m going to Texas next week, Arlo. Took a surgical position. No administration. Just surgery.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t work here. My ambition here is what killed us. And working for Ollie, who’s always a reminder...”

  “Is your new hospital looking for another surgeon?”

  “You’d hate it there. No civet cats.”

  “Speaking of which, he misses you. Actually, so did I, which is why I’m here. I love you, Layla Morrison. I have almost from the first moment I set eyes on you and I thought by forcing you to leave, I’d get myself back on track. But that track is you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me.”

  Besides her stomach churning, now her heart was beating faster. “I love you, too. For me, I think it was love always. The first time it just wasn’t as mature or refined as it needed to be. And the second time, when I looked down and saw those hideous sandals and realized what kind of man practiced medicine in the jungle wearing the worst possible shoes, I knew it was real. I was...am proud of you for who you are, Arlo. For your sacrifices. For the way you’ve never compromised your beliefs.

  “That’s all I’ve ever been about—the compromises I had to make to get where I thought I wanted to be. Then, of all things, discovering it wasn’t where I wanted to be at all. I was always scared, Arlo, that you’d get in my way. But what scared me even more was realizing you were my way, and that’s exactly where I wanted to be. But I wasn’t good enough.”

  “What do you mean, you’re not good enough?”

  “The way people respect you—I’ve never had that. Ollie respects my skills because they advance him, but he doesn’t respect me. I know that, and I’m fine with it. And my parents—what they respect is nothing I could ever be about. They try their best, but it’s not in them, and there’s never been once when they’ve told me they were proud of me, or that I’ve done a good job. Then when I saw it, unspoken, between you and your dad...” She shook her head. “I don’t fit into that, Arlo. I’m a good surgeon, but that’s all I am. You, on the other hand, are so much more and I don’t want you giving up everything you’ve done and earned to move to a place you’ll hate, even if you do love me. That will destroy you bit by bit, and I couldn’t live with myself knowing I’m the cause. You know where you need to be, and I’ve always envied that. Embrace it, Arlo. You’re a lucky man to have it.”

  “I’d be a luckier man to have you. Sometimes we don’t really know what we want until we’ve had it and lost it. I lost you once and I’m going to do that again. So, if it’s here, fine. Or Texas, that’s fine, too.”

  “Or a little village in Thailand?” she asked.

  “You’d do that?”

  “When I bought my plane ticket to Texas, I bought another one—to Thailand. I pinned them to my cork board and every time I walked by it, I thought about which one I’d use.”

  “And?”

  “And I’d usually cry.”

  “Because?”

  “Because the one I was most likely to use wasn’t the one I wanted to use.”

  “Well, if you choose to use the one for Texas, I’ll buy one, too. And I suppose I could get used to wearing a cowboy hat.”

  “And cover your beautiful hair? I won’t have it. I love your hair. I don’t want you covering it up for me.”

  “Then if not a cowboy hat, what?”

  She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. “I would have you, Arlo. In Thailand, where you belong. And where I want to belong.”

  “You can’t mean that, Layla.”

  “Yes, I can. And I do. If you’ll have me. But only in Thailand, Arlo. Only in our jungle village because where you’re happy, that’s where I’ll be happy.”

  “And Texas?”

  “No civet cats. And I really do need to be someplace with civet cats.” She reached up, snaked her hands around his neck and pulled his face to hers. “And you, Arlo. I need to be someplace—anyplace—with you.”

  Before they kissed, he whispered something in her ear, then leaned back to watch her face for a response.

  “A door?” she said, laughing. “You put a door on the hut? Which means we can...”

  “We can,” he said. “And we will.”

  For the rest of her life, she would. Love him, work with him, be his partner in everything. And cherish a life where she was loved above all else. For she loved him above all else, too. Only this time she knew it, and so did he.

  EPILOGUE

  “IT’S A BEAUTIFUL THING,” Arlo said as he handed Mali over to her new parents, Eric and Michi.

  She was a child who’d been abandoned at th
e elephant rescue, and the instant he’d mentioned that to Eric, he and his wife, Michi, had flown in, set to adopt her. They wanted another child and Mali needed a home. It was a perfect match for everybody.

  So, after the legalities were attended to, he’d flown to Japan to do the honors, while his dad and his dad’s new wife watched the hospital. Arlo was considering this the honeymoon he and Layla hadn’t had yet. Of course, now that she was sporting a rather prominent baby bump, the term honeymoon took on a whole new meaning. “I’m glad you and Michi have room for Mali in your family.”

  “Well, if it works out, we’d like a couple more. But having both a son and daughter now makes life better. Which you’re about to find out. So, which is it? A boy or a girl?”

  Actually, he wasn’t going to tell Eric yet that he and Layla were starting their life together with both. Oliver Ward for his dad and grandpa, and Alice Joy for his mother. It was the expanding of a legacy he’d never believed would expand. He still couldn’t believe that in another four months he’d be the dad of twins.

  “So, where’s Layla?” Eric asked, looking over Arlo’s shoulder.

  “She stopped at a shop down the corridor. Saw some cute baby things in the window and she’s all things baby now.” Even though her parents weren’t. When she’d told them she was expecting, they’d handed her a check and never once congratulated her. It had hurt her. He knew that.

  But he had a lifetime of taking care of her ahead of him and somewhere in there he hoped to make up for all the things she’d never had in a family. The things he’d counted on with his parents and the things his children would be able to count on with him. And, yes, in a little village in Thailand. But in a much bigger house, built for them by the villagers. One with doors, running water and real, honest-to-goodness beds.

  So, while some might believe it took a village to raise a child, it had taken a village to get him to open his eyes to what he had. And a village to welcome them both home, with open arms. To a place where Layla was loved and where she knew she was respected. To the place she’d always looked for, the place where she fit.

  He looked over his shoulder in time to see Layla struggling down the corridor, her arms full of packages. He rushed to help her, feeling almost overwhelmed that so much had happened to him in such a short time. Eight months ago they hadn’t even been together and now she was hefting bags full of baby booties, pacifiers and other necessities. All of them ready to be used in a jungle home, not hut, where two baby cribs were currently under construction by a grateful man who’d had his life saved in a tree one day. “Want to sit down?” he asked, unloading her of all the bags.

  “What I want is to go spend some time with my nephew, Riku.” She pointed to the largest of the bags. “I have a few things for him.”

  Arlo laughed. “My spoiled little rich girl.”

  “Not rich, now that my parents have withdrawn my trust fund. But definitely spoiled—by you.” She handed him a bag of his own.

  “More new shoes?” he said, peeking inside. “I already have ten pairs. Seriously, you can stop now.”

  “But I found your sandals in the back of the closet, Arlo. Which means instead of tossing them in the trash like I’d hoped you would, you’ve put them aside just in case.”

  “Or maybe I have a sentimental attachment to them, seeing how they occupied your thoughts so much of the time. Could be, though, that I’m just keeping them around as a reminder of where we were back then and where we are now.” He chuckled. “And for once I don’t think you can argue the point.”

  “Give me time,” she said, leaning into him even though his arms were full.

  “You’ve got all the time in the world, Layla. All the time in the world.” And she did, because they were both exactly where they needed to be. With each other. Forever.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Dianne Drake

  Her Secret Miracle

  Second Chance with Her Army Doc

  Bachelor Doc, Unexpected Dad

  Reunited with Her Army Doc

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell by Deanne Anders.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003

  Did you know that Harlequin My Rewards members earn FREE books and more?

  Join

  www.HarlequinMyRewards.com

  today to start earning your FREE books!

  * * *

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Join Harlequin My Rewards and reward the book lover in you!

  Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever and whenever you shop.

  Turn your points into FREE BOOKS of your choice

  OR

  EXCLUSIVE GIFTS from your favorite authors or series.

  Click here to join for FREE

  Or visit us online to register at

  www.HarlequinMyRewards.com

  Harlequin My Rewards is a free program (no fees) without any commitments or obligations.

  The Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell

  by Deanne Anders

  CHAPTER ONE

  FRANNIE WATCHED AS every head at the nurses’ station turned. That was everyone’s but hers. She didn’t have to look to know that Dr. Ian Spencer had just arrived on the pediatric ward. As always, the gorgeous doctor walked onto the unit and a group of highly intelligent women suddenly became brain-dead.

  She had been witness to the phenomenon for the last five months and she still didn’t understand it. Yes, the man was good-looking, if you went for the tall, dark and brooding type, but that still didn’t explain the near hero-worship that followed him wherever he went. She certainly didn’t think of him as a hero. He’d been a pain in her backside ever since she had convinced the hospital board members to agree to fund her therapy program, working with critically ill and traumatized children on the pediatric trauma and surgical unit. Her program was five months old now, and still every time she tried to discuss their mutual patients he was too busy to talk with her.

  So, while she would have to admit that the man could audition for the part of a sexy doctor in a TV drama, with his thick dark hair and baby blue eyes, she found him to be very much removed from anything to do with his patients’ care beyond their medical needs. The man might be a genius in the operating room, but in her opinion he really needed to learn better social skills to be able to work well with the rest of the medical staff.

  Looking up from her notes, she noticed that even Miss Emily, an elderly volunteer, had stopped to ogle the doctor coming down the hall. When the gray-haired woman looked over at her and gave a wiggle of her thick gray eyebrows, then winked at her, Frannie couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Excuse me,” said a deep voice from behind her.

  Shivers ran up her back and she could have sworn her heart paused for a beat. For some reason the man set her nerves on edge and her mouth stuttering. Why he made her nervous, she didn’t know. Okay, maybe it was those baby blues of his that sent her traitorous heart skipping, or perhaps it was the way his wide shoulders filled out the blue OR scrubs he usually wore that took her breath away.

  And now she sounded just like every other drooling woman on the unit.

  No. She would not fall for this man’s looks. There were lots of more important things to consider than someone’s looks. She’d learned that lesson i
n residency, after being wooed by a handsome co-worker. She’d not do that again.

  Running her hands down the sides of her lab coat, she pasted on what she hoped was a pleasant smile and turned to face him. “Ian, I was wondering if you had a minute to discuss...”

  She was staring at the man’s back. Had he just walked away from her in the middle of a sentence? A hot flush of temper rolled over her. Her face was burning with it. The man had no manners!

  Turning back to the nurses’ station, she noticed that several of the nurses were watching her—some with looks of pity.

  It was no secret that the chief of pediatric surgery had not been happy when her therapy program had been implemented on his floor. For months she had tried to get the man to sit down and discuss the progress she was making with her young trauma and surgical patients. She had done everything but lock him up in a closet with her to make him give her a chance, but he had just continued to avoid her, no matter what she did.

  Yes, the money for her program was coming from his budget, but couldn’t he see how much providing psychiatric support to his patients could help him? Of course he couldn’t. How could he when all his attention was on their medical files instead of looking at the way their problems were affecting their behavior and their mental health? If only she could figure out why he insisted on ignoring her she might be able to work to fix the problem.

  This attitude was not working for her or the children she represented—and enough was enough. If she had to ride through the halls half-naked, sitting on the hospital’s Mardi Gras float, to get his attention, she would do it.

  The thought of being even partially naked on the purple and gold papier-mâché float in front of the grumpy surgeon had her thoughts screeching to a halt and her face flaming a brighter red. Okay, maybe that was going a little too far—but she did have to do something. She needed to know what he had against her and her program.

  Oh, she knew how temperamental surgeons were—she’d lived with one most of her life—but that didn’t excuse the man’s attitude toward her and the work she was doing with his pediatric patients.