“Ghost?” St. Vincent shot him an incredulous glance. “Christ. You’re not serious, are you?” "I’m a Gypsy,” Cam replied matter-of-factly. “Of course I believe in ghosts.”“Only half Gypsy. Which led me to assume that the rest of you was at least marginally sane and rational.”“The other half is Irish,” Cam said a touch apologetically.“Christ,” St. Vincent said again, shaking his head as he strode away.”

“Okay, Kate, first of all, you’re touching me,” Vincent said for the room to hear. “So I’m not a ghost.”“And we’re not true zombies,” Charles said with a grin, “or he would have already eaten your face off.”

“It’s impossible,” he snapped. “Why?” “Because I’m Sebastian, Lord St. Vincent. I can’t be celibate. Everyone knows that.”

“Good God. I don’t believe St. Vincent and the word ‘celibacy’ have ever been mentioned in the same sentence before.”

“I grew up on a working ranch, and there was way too much to do.”“You what? A working ranch? Like…a cowboy?”Cam rolled his eyes. “I guess.”“You’re a cowboy and a fireman?”“Yes, Daniel,” Cam said dryly. “It’s almost as if I am half of the Village People, all rolled into one.”

“You’re a good guy, Cam.”“No, I’m not.” He exhaled deeply and his breath was warm against my cheek. “I’m only good with you.”