Page 28 of Save Me (Maxton Hall #1)

James rolls his eyes but takes her glass and heads off to the bar again.

Almost the moment he’s gone, Lydia’s smile vanishes again.

She looks at me with chilly eyes, and I swallow hard.

I wish I’d never come. I don’t want to be in this room; I want to be at home, where I feel safe and secure.

This is the exact opposite of that—an adventure that’s too much for me.

“Listen,” I say before she can threaten me again. “I’m sorry for what I just said.”

Her mouth opens and shuts. Then she gives me a skeptical look. “What?”

“I’m not your enemy,” I continue. “And I don’t care what you and Mr. Sutton get up to. I won’t give you away.”

She presses her lips tightly together.

“I just want to be left in peace,” I try again.

“Why should I believe you?” she asks, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know you.”

“True,” I say. “But James knows me. And I promised him.”

“You promised him,” she repeats as if she doesn’t quite get the significance of the words.

“Yes,” I say hesitantly.

For a moment, she says nothing, just eyes me mistrustfully. But then her expression changes. Suddenly, she looks more as though a few puzzle pieces have just slotted together in her head. Her eyes wander from my face to a point somewhere above my shoulder. “Oh, so that’s how it is,” she says.

Confused, I look around, trying to work out what she means. I see James standing at the bar. He’s picking up one bottle after another, studying the labels.

“That’s how what is?” I ask.

She gives me a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, you’re not the first.”

I have no idea what she’s on about.

“Most girls don’t take so long to succumb to his charms.”

Then it clicks. I can’t help myself. I burst out laughing.

Lydia looks startled. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but your brother is pretty much the opposite of charming.”

She stares at me, and it’s like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or go for my throat. James relieves her of the decision by choosing this moment to return.

“Here,” he says, holding a drink out to Lydia. “For you, sister dear .”

She glances briefly at it, then looks back at me. “I’m watching you, Ruby.” She turns and disappears into the crowd.

“What was all that?” James asks in confusion, watching her strawberry-blond ponytail as it moves out of sight.

I just shrug, which makes him frown.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing. She doesn’t trust me and doesn’t believe I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

James lets his gaze roam across the room. It seems like he has to think about his next words, like he isn’t sure what he can and can’t say to me. “It’s hard for her to trust anyone.”

I look questioningly at him.

“Very few people would keep a secret like that to themselves, Ruby.” He gives a shrug.

“On the contrary. Ninety percent of them would sell it to the press or try to blackmail us with it. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s spent time with us just so they can find out family secrets.

” He avoids my eyes as he speaks and watches the crowd dancing in the center of the room instead.

“Sounds pretty shit.”

One side of his mouth twitches slightly. “It is.”

I’d never thought of that. It doesn’t excuse James’s behavior, but this piece of information has helped me to understand him—and Lydia—a bit better.

“I can’t help wondering what I’m even doing here if everyone trusts me so little.”

Thoughtfully, his eyes scan my face. He lifts a hand as if to touch me but lowers it again and takes a sip from the glass that was actually meant for Lydia. His second drink. “You’re here because Alistair invited you,” he says in the end.

“True,” I mumble, sticking an annoyingly tickly strand of hair back behind my ear. “Alistair. If it had been up to you, I wouldn’t be here now.”

“It’s not that.”

“What then?” I have no idea why the idea that he didn’t want me here bothers me so much.

“You just don’t belong here, Ruby.”

It feels like he’s stabbed me. With a sharp little knife or something. It’s a huge effort not to let the pain show.

“I…I didn’t mean it like that,” he says at once. Apparently, I didn’t do such a good job of not showing the pain as I thought.

“Right.” I turn away and look through the huge windows to the pool, which someone just jumped into fully dressed. A few seconds later, James pushes his way in front of me, filling my whole vision.

“Hey, come on. I only meant that I get a bad feeling about you being around certain people. They’ll end up messing with you. I feel responsible for you.”

“I’m quite capable of looking after myself, thank you very much,” I snap back.

He gives me another piercing look, and I take a tiny sip of my Coke so as to break eye contact. Him looking at me like that makes me hot, and it’s warm enough in here already.

“I don’t want to be a drag. Just act the way you normally do,” I say in the end, with a wave of my hand to take in the entire room. Let James get up to whatever it is he usually does at these parties. I don’t want him acting like my babysitter.

He nods and downs his second drink. Then he takes my glass and puts it next to his on a little side table.

The next moment, he’s taken my hand. He pulls me back into the middle of the room, right in the heart of the dancing crowd.

My heart hammers wildly, and I wonder what the hell he’s up to as he pulls me closer.

His chest touches mine and he squeezes my hand, then lets go and starts to move to the music.

James Beaufort is dancing with me. He smiles down at me and circles his hips.

“What are you doing?” I ask in confusion. I’m the only person standing stock-still on the dance floor.

“I’m doing what I normally do at parties,” James replies.

Yet again, the look in his eyes seems like a dare that I have to accept.

I try to copy his movements. Someone crashes into me from behind and I stumble against him, so he puts a hand on my waist to stop me falling.

My throat goes dry and my heart beats faster.

An intense heat floods through me as I look up at him again.

We’re pressed together so tight that not even a sheet of paper would fit between us.

Next to us, someone cheers. I tear my eyes off James’s face and look around. At least five pairs of eyes are fixed on us.

I must be out of my mind. James and I might be living in friendly coexistence now, but this is something else entirely. And if I don’t want stories about us going around the school like wildfire, I urgently need to get off this dance floor.

“I need the loo,” I gasp. James pulls back right away. His eyes glitter knowingly, and at this moment, I’m too confused to understand what that means. He nods to the left-hand corner of the room, where an archway leads out to a corridor. “First right, second door on the left.”

I slip between the dancing bodies and then walk down the hall.

There are oil paintings of the Vega family on the wall, and the wallpaper shimmers green and gold in the lamplight.

The carpet beneath my feet is dark red with an intricate pattern of abstract shapes that somehow resemble animals.

I turn right as James said. This part of the hallway is empty, and I lean against the wall for a moment.

I really do not have a clue what I’m doing here. Quite apart from the fact that I feel totally out of place, James unsettles me. The way he touches me, looks at me, his whispered words—if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was flirting with me.

On Monday, when he stood at my front door and said he didn’t want to go back to the old days, I didn’t expect us to end up here. Does he dance like that with everyone he knows? Probably.

Maybe I should just see it as a task to complete. I’m at school with these people, whether I like it or not. And if I make it to Oxford, I might have to deal with some of them, and there’ll certainly be plenty of other rich kids.

I take a deep breath, clench my fists, and push myself firmly away from the wall. I’ll freshen up and then I’ll go back into that sitting room, drink up my Coke, and dance with James. What can go wrong? People are going to talk about me anyway now, and that way, at least I can have a bit of fun.

Having made up my mind, I walk to the door a few feet further down the hall and open it, expecting to find a bathroom.

It’s dark apart from the light shining in from the hallway.

My eyes take a moment to adjust, but then I make out the outline of an antique desk, a collection of plush chairs, and… loads of bookcases.

This is definitely not the bathroom—this is a library! After a tiny hesitation, I step curiously inside and look around. Just the first bookcase contains more books than our entire house. A smile spreads over my face, and I venture another step…and then I hear it.

Heavy breathing. And muffled sighs.

Turn and leave , a voice is crying in my head, but it’s too late. My eyes rest on Alistair, who’s standing with his back to another bookcase, further into the room. His head is thrown back, and at that second, he groans loudly.

I hear a quiet smacking sound. “If you keep making that much noise, I’ll stop.”

I freeze. I know that voice. It’s hushed and deep, a little smoky.

“Don’t stop,” says Alistair, letting his head drop forward.

The guy kneeling in front of him gets up. “Only if you ask nicely.”

Alistair pulls him down by the hair to kiss him. The guy leans against the bookcase, one hand on either side of Alistair’s head, and kisses him back. Then I recognize who it is.

Keshav.

I gasp while Keshav’s mouth roams from Alistair’s face down to his throat.

At that moment, Alistair spots me in the doorway.

“Kesh, stop,” he whispers in a panic, pushing his friend away violently.

I turn on my heel and flee out of the library back into the corridor. I look around in a panic and decide to run back to the main room. I squeeze past dancing people, their faces blurred before my eyes, searching the room for James.

I see him with his sister, Cyril, and Wren by the pool. They’re talking about something, and Wren’s making wild arm gestures.

I need a moment to get my head together.

Why the hell do I have to keep catching people in the act when they definitely don’t want an audience? Since when have I been collecting strangers’ secrets? This is not normal.

It’s a big effort to breathe and to calm down slightly. I decide that I have to take back my decision from a moment ago. I can’t have fun here, and I’ll never get used to these people.

I want to go to James and ask him to take me home, but he’s so close to the pool that it makes me hesitate a moment. The sight of the water makes me feel sick. In the end, I pluck up all my courage and cautiously enter the conservatory. I stand by the wall, a few feet from the group.

Wren is the first to spot me. “There she is.”

I nod curtly to him and almost sigh with relief as James crosses the two steps that separate us. I’d never have imagined he’d ever be the person I felt safest with at a party, but that’s how it is today. He’s become my anchor, and I have to stop myself from grabbing his hand.

“You OK?” James asks. He’s got another glass in his hand, containing another brown drink. His cheeks are slightly flushed now.

“I’d like to go home soon,” I whisper, still out of breath.

James frowns but nods instantly. Apparently, he can see that I’m on the verge of freaking out. He drains his glass and puts it down on the nearest table. “No worries.”

“Hey, since when have you left my parties before four, man?” Cyril sounds offended.

“Since I’ve had someone I need to take home,” James replies, looking blankly at his friend. It’s back, that impenetrable, arrogant wall.

“Come on, Ruby. Don’t be a spoilsport and take our buddy away,” Wren says, crouching down to splash me with water from the pool. A few drops land on my throat, and it feels like all the air’s been crushed from my lungs.

“Stop it,” I squeal, hardly recognizing my own voice, it sounds so shrill.

“Are you going to dissolve?” Cyril laughs. He’s topless now, wearing black swimming shorts. His hair is still wet. He comes a step closer. I flinch back and grip onto James’s arm. I don’t care what the others think.

“C’mon, Cy, leave her alone,” James says, but not even his air of authority is any good now. Cyril is grinning like a predatory animal. The next moment, he leaps, grabs my bag, and hands it to a grinning Lydia.

“Cyril, don’t you dare—” I gasp—but it’s too late. He wraps me in an embrace that’s anything but loving and pulls me with him into the pool. I scream as I hit the water with full force and thrash my arms and legs in panic.

Then we go under, and my heart stops beating for a second. Suddenly, I’m no longer in the Vegas’ house, I’m in a murky, yellowish-green sea. I’m no longer seventeen, I’m eight. And I can’t remember how to swim. I’m at the mercy of the bitterly cold water.

I can’t breathe.

The seaweed is pulling me down, and I can’t move. My arms won’t work, my legs are out of action. I have no control over my body.

The pressure on my chest is overwhelming. And then I have no choice but to breathe in the water.