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“I don’t know.” God, Jack felt like shit. “The whole thing’s a mess.”
“What are you going to do?” Cooper asked. “About Donovan?”
“Do you have it?” Jack asked, ignoring his cousin’s question.
“I don’t think you want to see that, Jack.”
“Have you watched it?” he asked, taking a step toward Cooper.
“No. The two images I saw were enough.”
“Do you have it?” Jack asked again, jaw clenched tight and mouth grim.
Cooper disappeared for a few minutes and when he appeared again, he had the thumb drive in his hands. He handed it over. “I have a safe under the floorboards in my bedroom. Nobody knows that I own this property, so I thought it was as good a place as any to keep it.” Cooper nodded toward his desktop. “Use my computer I’m going to bed.”
Jack waited until his cousin was gone and even though he felt sick to his stomach, he inserted the thumb drive. When he was finished watching the material, he got up and would have put his fist through the wall—if it was drywall. As it was, the walls were made of plaster, and he was pretty damn sure he broke several bones in his hand before he made it to the kitchen sink and vomited.
Chapter Thirty
* * *
Donovan wrinkled her nose and shook her head as she re-read the instructions in the cookbook. What the hell was sifting flour?
With a sigh, she got up from the table and glanced outside. Roger would be back from the mainland soon, and she’d promised a meal. Her. Useless as hell, Donovan James was going to cook a meal for Roger and Mary.
She smoothed her hair back and tucked the wild waves behind her ears. It was humid, but she loved the warmth. She’d been cold since she arrived. Since Gravenhurst.
Donovan wasn’t sure she’d ever be warm again. She closed her eyes as a wave of nausea set in and waited for it to pass. This was something new. She’d been back on the island for nearly two weeks and had only experienced nausea the last few days. It was real. The pregnancy was real.
She rested her hands over her bare stomach and smiled. “Welcome to your life, whoever you are. It’s going to be stupid, crazy ride.”
Okay. Focus.
There was the sifting of the flour. Donovan wandered back into the kitchen and, after chewing on her bottom lip for a few moments, decided that maybe they didn’t need this fancy apple dessert after all. Maybe cut up fruit would do.
Her eyes brightened. Just like the fancy fruit trays in all those hotel rooms she stayed in when on tour.
She set to work and cut out the watermelon Roger had brought for her the week before. One of four, it was the only one left. She giggled and patted her stomach once more.
“Guess you like watermelon huh?”
Once that was done, she carved out the pineapple and tried her damnedest to make it look like something. It was leaning a bit when she placed it in the middle of the watermelon, and she decided that it looke
d like a bird. A phoenix to be precise. How metaphoric. Out of the ashes and all of that.
She cleaned grapes, strawberries, blueberries and raspberries and filled in the space around her phoenix. After that she cut up the watermelon and placed it as artfully as she could and when she was done, took a step back.
It looked pretty damn good.
She flew across the kitchen and opened up the large fridge and then placed her creation inside. Next, she checked on her marinating steaks (so the marinade was out of a bottle—she wasn’t telling anyone that) and took out the vegetables for her salad.
She had three kinds of onions, a red pepper and mushrooms. Somehow the colors had seemed right when she was in the grocery, but now she was rethinking the whole salad thing too.
Deciding she’d ponder it in the shower, Donovan headed to her bedroom, eyes firmly fixed on her door and not the one at the end of the hall. Even so, she couldn’t help the way her heart contracted or the pain that spliced across her chest when she thought about Jack. It would always be there, she supposed.
“And I can’t hide out here forever.”
But for now? It was the perfect sanctuary, and Grace had come through big time, getting her back to the island without anyone knowing. It took her less than an hour to shower, wash her hair and put on some makeup. She was sick of walking around looking like death warmed over.
