The Unsung Hero. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.

      CHAPTER ONE

      TIME stood still.

      Rick Wilson had never actually understood that phrase before this moment but, man, he did now.

      It was kind of like one of those three-hundred-and-sixty-degree shots in a movie where something was frozen in space but the rest of the scene continued around it. He was part of that scene but where he was and what he was here for became suddenly and completely irrelevant.

      It seemed extraordinary that nobody else had noticed but why would they? The only thing that had really stopped was in his head. A stun-gun effect on his thought processes from that first sight of…perfection, that was the only word for it.

      Some kind of goddess in a floaty blue dress. Long, long blonde hair, some of which had been wound around her head and adorned with tiny, white flowers. She was tall and slim and he’d put good money on her eyes being blue. Dark blue.

      Who was she and where the hell had she been? Nowhere near his world, that was for sure, because he would have remembered.

      More than his brain had been stunned but it wasn’t until the need for oxygen made Rick suck in a rather deep breath that he realised his chest had also been immobilised. The sound he made elicited a nudge from the man standing close by his side. And a look. He might as well have had a bubble over his head like a cartoon character as well. One that said, Do me a favour and try and keep your hands off her for the duration of the ceremony at least.

      No worries. Rick’s grin flashed back. How long could a ceremony last, after all?

      Suddenly, the annoyance of wearing the ridiculous bow-tie and the vaguely trapped feeling that weddings in general, and this one in particular, always gave him became worthwhile. He was actually pleased he was dressed up to the nines. That he would be here for hours and that one of his official duties was to partner the bridesmaid. The goddess, no less.

      She was much closer now. With a supreme effort, Rick tried to stop staring. He managed to switch off the mental zoom lens and take in some of the wider picture. He could hear the music and see the way the small gathering of guests in this garden setting had twisted in their seats to watch the bride and her bridesmaid approaching. A small boy was in front of the two women, throwing handfuls of rose petals from the basket he was carrying.

      The sight of the child triggered a process of recalling snatches of conversations he now wished he’d paid more attention to. Worry over the choice of a bridesmaid because…that’s right, she had a kid who was very sick. Only it wasn’t her kid, exactly. He was a nephew or something but she was his only family and she was clearly some sort of saint because she’d been travelling the globe trying to track down his biological father so that the kid’s leukaemia could be treated with a bone-marrow transplant.

      What was her name?

      Rick was thinking hard as he watched the boy being directed to sit in an empty seat in the front row.

       Sarah.

      That was it. Nice name.

      He had to wait while the bridesmaid positioned herself beside the bride and took charge of the bouquet but, finally, she looked up and caught his welcoming smile. Her eyes widened a fraction and she held the eye contact for a heartbeat longer. Then she looked away as the celebrant began to speak and welcome those gathered to witness the ceremony. It took Rick a few seconds to realise why he was feeling oddly poleaxed again.

      She hadn’t smiled back, that was why.

      Sarah had to