Her Perfect Match by Kate Welsh

CJ and Cole were targets because of Elizabeth.
    Minutes later, Elizabeth realized she was holding her breath as she and Jack passed in front of Alexandra and Mitzy Lexington.
    She had begun to think she’d gotten away scot-free when she heard Mitzy say, “Apparently Elizabeth is at it again—yet another conquest. I wonder how long he’ll last.” Her sigh was theatrical. “They never stay once they find out what she’s really like.”
    Jack stiffened.
    “We should warn him, don’t you think, Alex dear?” Mitzy went on in a voice Elizabeth knew was loud enough for Jack to hear. “I understand he calls himself a Christian. He should know about how she entices men and just how young she started practicing on the unsuspecting—corrupting them with her wiles.”
    Elizabeth thought she’d die when Jack stopped and turned to face the two women. “The name’s Jack Alton. And you are?”
    Mitzy was even more taken aback than Elizabeth that Jack would directly confront them.
    “Uh, I am Alexandra Lexington and this is my mother, Mitzy,” the younger of the two said, gesturing to the middle-aged viper who’d spoken in the stage whisper and who stood gaping at Jack.
    “Ladies, you’re right. I am a Christian, and the Lord demands of me that I act with kindness at all times. Right now, I’m tempted to disobey Him but—” He stopped, the line of his jaw as hard as granite. “Jesus once said, ‘He who is without sin, cast the first stone.’ Think about it.” He turned to Elizabeth.
    Elizabeth let him lead her away. He looked so annoyed and handsome in his tux. His deeply tanned skin was just a little higher in color now, betraying how much he probably wanted to say more. But he needn’t bother. She’d never seen those two so beautifully put in their places. All she could do was stare at him, trying for all the world to abolish the vision of him galloping toward her in gleaming armor on the back of a huge warhorse.
    “Close your mouth, darlin’. You look like a fish. A beautiful, elegant fish, but a fish nonetheless.”
    “But—but don’t you want to know?”
    “Know?” he asked, as if he couldn’t imagine what he’d ask.
    “What they meant. Don’t you want to know what they meant?”
    “Those two?” He shot her a look that asked after her sanity. “Of course I don’t. If I’ve given you the impression I would, I’m sorry. I was jealous. I wanted you on my arm, and you seemed to be involved with my, ah, with my boss’s son. Tonight you’re with me. I’ve got no complaints.”
    “Oh.” She blinked, unsure if she should believehim. Was this man real? He seemed to mean what he said, if the earnest expression he wore was anything to go by.
    “Would you like to dance?” Jack asked.
    Dance? She couldn’t dance with him. It had been the heat of his body that had triggered her fear the day he’d kissed her. What if it happened again in the middle of all these people? When she’d accepted his invitation, she hadn’t thought he would ask this of her. She’d heard devout Christians didn’t dance. His church has a rock band for worship, Elizabeth. What were you thinking?
    She looked into Jack’s beautiful eyes and wanted more than anything to be normal for just one night. She wanted to make a grab for the brass ring. She wanted to be able to let this man hold her. She wanted to feel safer in his arms than she’d felt since the day she’d learned to fear men.
    “Okay,” she replied, forcing herself to smile while she fought inner panic.
    He answered with a warm smile of his own and directed her toward the orchestra. At the edge of the marble dance floor, he took her in his arms. She was suddenly Cinderella at the ball.
    And all her dreams—good and bad—came true because her prince was a good dancer. She was not. Like the storybook heroine, Elizabeth didn’t dance—out of necessity rather than lack of opportunity.
    She had danced a few times with Cole and Jeff. She felt safe with them,