‘Is now a bad time to admit that I come from generations of farmers? With several farms. Beef, dairy and sheep.’ He even looked sheepish as he said it.
‘Meat central, huh?’ She shrugged. ‘I guess we do live in New Zealand—fifty sheep per person and all that.’ He chuckled. ‘I don’t think it’s that many. And I didn’t follow the plan, did medicine instead. That make me more acceptable?’
Oh, the man was so much more than acceptable. But she couldn’t afford to admit that, and his ego didn’t need fattening. ‘Marginally.’
‘Marginally?’ He looked affronted. ‘Doctors save lives.’
She shot him a teasing look. ‘How many lives do you save, Gabe? You’re a sports specialist.’
‘I save a lot of lives, actually,’ he said, quite seriously. ‘Think about it. You’re a dancer, right? So you know something of what it’s like to spend every minute of every day training for that one goal. Of making all kinds of sacrifices to try to meet that goal. So what happens if you get an injury and it threatens to snatch it all from you in a second? Don’t you want a doctor on hand then?’
Okay, so she could give him that. ‘Didn’t your family want you to do medicine?’
He shook his head. ‘The firstborn son must grow up and take over the farming empire. It’s written in stone. That archaic belief in primogeniture.’
Oh, her curiosity was piqued. ‘You’re the firstborn son?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Of how many?’ Yes, totally curious now.
‘Just my sister and me.’
She wondered what his sister was like. What his parents were like. Wondered a ton of things she had no real business wondering. That didn’t stop her asking. ‘And you didn’t want to farm?’
‘Do I look like a farmer?’ he joked.
In his on-trend jeans, tee and trainers, she had to admit he didn’t. ‘Is it too much hard work for you?’ She couldn’t resist teasing him some more.
‘It’s too far out in the country for me.’ He matched her tone. ‘I love to visit but don’t want to live there. I like the city.’
‘Because you like to be near a high-density female population? I’m guessing there aren’t nearly enough women in the countryside for you.’
‘Exactly.’ He grinned. ‘I need the variety. But of course the family doesn’t approve.’
‘Of all the women or the lack of farming interest?’
‘Both.’ He winked. ‘I’m a wayward terror.’
Roxie shook her head. The guy was over-egging it. ‘You’re not that much of a terror. Look how hard I had to push you to take me to bed. I don’t think there’s much substance to your rogue reputation.’
‘Ah, but that was because I was trying to reform my wicked ways.’
He had her absolute attention now. ‘And why was that?’ She watched him close, curious to see if he’d answer.
It seemed he’d decided to give the nearest tomato plant a thorough inspection, bending down to see if the cherry-sized reds were ripe for picking. ‘I get the feeling you might already know about it.’
‘Diana,’ she confirmed softly.
He snapped off the first fruit. ‘What did they tell you?’
Roxie decided to be completely honest. ‘I’m a new dancer for the Blades—first thing they did was warn me away from you.’
He swiveled to look at her, his brows impossibly high. ‘But you ignored them.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m not as vulnerable as it seemed she’d been.’
He looked uncomfortable and turned back to the plant, started a picking frenzy. ‘She wasn’t exactly healthy, no. I didn’t know that when we started dating.’
