Page 37 of Save Me (Maxton Hall #1)

“Don’t act like you’re too good for our parties,” Lin says through gritted teeth. I look at her in surprise.

“It’s not an act.”

His words make Lin’s cheeks flush an angry red. “You really are—”

“Hey, peace, people.” James’s voice is quiet but firm. He glances at Cyril, at which he turns away from Lin and heads over to Wren, who is nearby, helping himself to a glass of punch.

One word from James, and a guy like Cyril Vega shuts up. Sometimes the power James has at this school freaks me out.

As if nothing ever happened, he turns to the buffet and takes an hors d’oeuvre. He lifts it to his nose and studies it carefully before popping it into his mouth. Once he’s swallowed, he says to me: “Way better than last time.”

I roll my eyes. “You suggested the caterers yourself.”

He grins, then lets his eyes roam over me. I feel warm as I see his expression change and the mocking smile turn into something gentler, more honest—a smile that seems to be meant only for me. “You look beautiful.”

Something flutters in my stomach, and I gulp hard. “You’ve seen me in this dress before.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you look beautiful in it.”

“Thank you. You look very handsome too.” I smooth the dress, although there’s nothing to smooth, and James suddenly faces me, bowing slightly, holding out his hand.

I turn to his friends, but they seem more concerned with tipping booze from a flask into their glasses without being seen.

Only Lydia is watching her brother, a peculiar expression in her eyes. I turn back to James.

“What are you doing?” I ask, cheeks burning.

“Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

I bite back a laugh. “There’s a reason I didn’t join in with the opening performance or any of the rehearsals, James. I can’t dance. Or not like this.”

“In Victorian times, it was considered very rude to turn down the offer of a dance, Ruby Bell.”

“Then I must ask you to forgive me. Sadly, I have to keep an eye on the buffet.”

James straightens up and takes two steps toward Lin. He whispers in her ear, making her laugh. Then she nods and shoos him away. James comes back to me, offering me his arm. “Lin says she’ll take charge for a while.”

I hesitate a moment longer but then take his arm.

I glare over my shoulder at Lin, which she answers with an apologetic shrug, and James leads me toward the dance floor.

I barely even noticed that since the first dance came to an end, it’s been filling up with more and more couples in Victorian dress.

Looking around now, I really could have gone back in time.

Quietly, the band strikes up a new tune, soft but rhythmical, which slowly fills the whole hall.

James takes my hand in his and lays his other hand on my back.

He leads me a few steps to the side, sways us forward and back, takes two steps back and one to the left, while I follow him, staring at our feet the whole time—or rather at the huge hem of the dress.

“Don’t look down,” he says quietly.

I raise my eyes with a heavy heart. James seems as though he’s spent his life dancing at balls. Which might even be true. I wish I had gone to the rehearsals now, or at least watched a few online tutorials and practiced with Ember.

Suddenly, James lowers his head until his mouth is close to my ear. “Relax,” he whispers.

Easier said than done. But I try. I try to ease the tension in my arms and not to focus so desperately on getting the steps right. I let myself fall—the way I imagined it the first time we tried on these costumes.

James catches me. He leads me gently over the floor, and I feel as if I’m floating. I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance to dance like this again. What would happen if I told him that, as of now, he’s not forced to take part in our meetings?

I don’t want to, but I suddenly feel a weight on my chest. I try to ignore it, but it gets more crushing every time I think about what will happen between James and me after tonight.

“What’s wrong?” he asks suddenly, narrowing his eyes as he checks out my face.

“I have to tell you something.”

James’s turquoise eyes are on me, expectant and patient, although there’s a spark of suspicion in them too.

“I thought about what you told me on my birthday. That you only have one year of school left and then…” I clear my throat, feeling James suddenly tense. “Well, anyway, I spoke to Lexie. He thinks it’s about time you got back to training.”

His movements catch for a second, then he dances on as if he’s learned the choreography by heart.

“What?” he croaks. His voice is hoarse. That’s always what gives him away. His eyes stay hard, he stands up straight, moves confidently—but his voice doesn’t play along. You can always tell if something has got to James. Like now.

“I think you’ve done a great job on the team.

Lexie can definitely reward that.” I’m trying to keep my voice calm, to relax the atmosphere between us, but the opposite happens.

James’s eyes darken, and the next moment he holds me tight—closer than would have been acceptable in Victorian times.

But the dance floor is full, and everyone seems too preoccupied with themselves to take any notice of us.

Of us and the fact that James’s intense stare is taking my breath away.

His voice lightens again. “You…”

Suddenly, the fairy lights go out. All at once. A few musicians play wrong notes, the sound echoing around the hall. The only light now is from the candles.

“James, I swear to you, if this is one of your tricks—” I hiss.

“It’s not,” he interrupts. I can barely make out his face, but he seems as surprised as me. Then he swears quietly. “We need to get to the power. They can’t play like this. And it’ll kill the mood.”

I nod, and James grips my hand tighter. We fight our way through the confused people on the dance floor, and I almost step on the hem of my dress.

Once we get out into the corridor, I sigh with relief.

James lets go of my hand as we take the stairs down to the cellar, and I grip onto the banister.

I try not to think about why I instantly deeply miss the feeling of his warm skin.

It’s pitch-black down here. James pulls out his phone and switches on the flashlight to light the corridor.

“So cold,” I murmur, rubbing my arms. “And spooky.” I feel like a clown or a monster or a mutant mix of the two could jump out at us around a corner any second.

James doesn’t reply, heads straight to a large box to the left-hand side.

“I ought to be worried by the fact that you know exactly where the fuse box is.”

He gives an embarrassed smile and opens the box with the master key on his key ring, then steps aside so that we can both see in.

Two fuses have blown, and as James trips the switches back up again, we hear the distant relieved cheers from upstairs.

The next second, the neon lights turn on down here too with a quiet click.

I sigh with relief. James shuts the fuse box again, and I turn on my heel.

I can’t get out of this cellar soon enough.

I gather up my skirts and climb the stairs. I’m almost at the top when James stops right behind me and says, “Wait.” I turn and look inquiringly at him.

“Did you really think I’d do a thing like that again?” He sounds genuinely surprised, like he can’t believe I’d suspect him.

But, to be honest…I did.

I don’t know what there is between James and me. And even though we’ve got closer in the last few weeks, that doesn’t mean I trust him. There’s too much history for that, and I can still hear his warning, and Lydia’s, clearly in my head. I promised Lin I’d be careful, and I’m sticking to that.

“For a millisecond, maybe,” I admit in a small voice.

He stares hard at me. “I’d never pull a trick like that again, Ruby. Not now that I know how much work you put into these events and how much they mean to you.”

It feels as though someone is pressing both their hands onto my rib cage, making it hard to breathe. “Sorry,” I say quietly. “I think I was just scared. That it might be a repeat of the start of term.”

James shakes his head. “No.”

He comes up another step, and now our eyes are level. His face is so close to mine that I can see little blue flecks in his eyes and a dark ring around his iris.

I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when I don’t see James in meetings every other day.

Just the thought of it makes my throat constrict.

Will he have any reason to spend time with me after that?

He’ll be training and have more time for his friends than he has done lately.

Will he realize how much he’s missed them?

How much more fun he has spending his Saturday evenings drinking and partying instead of texting me about UK politics or my new favorite manga?

Will he notice how little our worlds fit together?

I’ve enjoyed these last few weeks so much, and I don’t want to lose him. But I’m afraid I have no claim on him. We both know which world he’ll choose in the end.

The pressure on my chest is growing more and more. Maybe it would be easier if I make the decision for him, before he gets the chance to hurt me.

“So this is our last job on the team together,” I say, looking him straight in the eye. My heart is pounding wildly. If he comes closer, I’m sure he’ll hear it.

“True,” James replies quietly.

For a while, we just look at each other. Then we both breathe in as if to say something, but pause. The air between us is crackling, and my pulse is racing so fast that I can’t bear it a second longer. I do the first thing that comes into my head. I hold out my hand to James.

“It’s been really nice working with you,” I say, as formally as possible.

At first, James looks surprised. Then his turquoise eyes fill with an emotion I’ve seen before but couldn’t place. Now I know what it is: yearning.

He takes my hand and holds it gently but firmly. “That sounds as though you’re saying goodbye to me.”

At the moment I hear those words, I understand that he’s right. And yet I realize that it’s the last thing I want. I don’t want to say goodbye to him. I want to hold on to the chance to talk to James. To tell him more about me and to listen when he confides in me.

I want to know everything about you.

The thought overwhelms me suddenly, and the same yearning I can see in his eyes fills my stomach.

It’s burning hot, downright desperate, flows through my veins, and makes my fingers grip his more tightly.

I don’t know what’s happening, but…my knees feel weak, and his hand is so warm in mine.

I wonder what it would feel like on other parts of my body.

I want more than just this touch. More of him .

“James…”

“Yes,” he murmurs again. He sounds just as confused, as breathless as me.

The next second, he pulls me so that I fall into him.

He looks me in the eyes for a split second. Then he takes the back of my neck in his hand and holds it fast.

The next moment, he presses his lips onto mine.

I can’t think. My head switches off, there are no more rational thoughts, only the glowing heat flooding my body. I wrap both arms around his neck and bury my hands in his hair. He starts to move his mouth against mine.

James kisses the way he moves and acts: proud and self-assured.

He knows exactly what to do, knows exactly how to touch me to fan the heat into flames.

He presses his tongue into my mouth without hesitation and without any shyness and plays with mine until I feel like my knees might give way any moment.

But even if they did, he’d be there to catch me.

His arm is tight around me, and he’s holding me close.

I can feel his body through the weighty fabric of my dress, but it’s not enough. I need more.

I groan quietly and let my hands slide to his shoulders, then back to his throat and the front of his collar. His skin is warm and velvety, and everything within me shouts more, more, more .

I want more of him. To undress him, here on this staircase, in the middle of the school.

I wouldn’t care if anyone came along and caught us.

All that matters to me is James, his mouth on my lips, my jaw, my throat.

He takes my skin between his teeth, pinches slightly, but I wish he’d bite harder.

I want him to leave marks on my body, so that in a few hours I’ll be able to see that this really happened, that it wasn’t my imagination.

“Ruby…” I thought I knew every color of his voice. But this is new. That’s what he sounds like once he’s kissed me out of my mind. He takes my face and looks at me. His thumbs run over my cheeks. My jaw. My lips. My cheeks again. “Ruby.”

I lean forward and lay my mouth on his. A painful ache tugs at my belly and works its way up until it’s hard to breathe. Now I understand why he keeps whispering my name. I want to do the same. James, James. Always James.

“James.” A commanding voice speaks above us.

We spring apart. I step on the hem of my skirt and lose my balance, but James reaches out and grabs my waist. He waits until I’m holding safely onto the banister again. Then he lets go of me at once and looks up. I follow his gaze.

Mortimer Beaufort is standing at the top of the stairs, hands linked behind his back, watching us with dark eyes. My heart pounds.

“Your mother is looking for you.”

James stretches his back and nods briefly. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mr. Beaufort raises an eyebrow slightly. “She wants you now, not in a minute.”

James stiffens. I hold out my hand and gently stroke his arm in the hope that his father can’t see us. James takes my hand in his and looks at our intertwined fingers. I hear him sigh quietly. Then he lifts my hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss onto it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and I can feel the words on my wrist. The next moment, he pushes carefully past me and goes up the stairs toward his father, who is waiting for him with stiff shoulders and eyes like ice.

When James reaches him, he grabs him by the shoulder and steers him back into the hall while I stand on the steps, feeling my burning cheeks and wondering exactly what he was apologizing for.