New York Doc, Thailand Proposal / The Surgeon's Baby Bombshell. Dianne Drake

      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 seembetter.

      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 alsowell, sexy.”

      Layla turned to thank the old man for the ride by bowing to him, then tucked a few Thai coins into his hand which he pocketed eagerly as he returned her bow, then scurried away with his cart. “Right up until the day you walked out.” She brushed the straw off her backside, then stood at the bottom of the rough-hewn wooden stairs and looked up at Arlo. “It’s two months. You need the help, I’m available, and—”

      “And in the bargain it makes you look good because you want that promotion. You haven’t changed, Layla. I’ll give you credit for that. Where you are now is where you were when we split. Still trying to climb that ladder.”

      “I’m not the only one in the running.”

      “No, but you’re the only one who’d come to Thailand to impress him. That’s huge, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

      “I also came to see a side of medicine I’ve never seen.” And try to make things right between them—things that seemed like they were already off to a shaky start.

      “I offered you that. Remember?”

      “For a lifetime, Arlo. You wanted a lifetime commitment and we weren’t even” Layla wanted to say in love, but that was implied. Their relationship had been about many things, but love had never been mentioned. In fact, because of their circumstances, she was sure that was the reason it never had been mentioned. It was too complicated. It got in the way. There were no compromises that would work for both of them. Even though her feelings for him might have been—well, that didn’t matter now, did it?

      “Anyway, Ollie’s deal is for two months. I couldn’t have done a lifetime, Arlo. You knew that from the beginning. But I can do two months, and you do need that help. So this is good for both of us. You get an extra doctor for a while and I gain extra knowledge.” And closure, because