Chapter Twelve

"So Blair is back," Eric said as soon as Chuck closed the door marked Vice President. "Why?"

"What do you mean why? I told you."

"C'mon, Chuck. Level with me."

"You don't believe she missed me and what we had and wanted to try again?"

"No. You burst in here eight days ago asking questions about your divorce out of the blue. Four days later Blair moved in with you. The question is, what started that domino fall of events?"

He didn't intend to tell Eric - or anyone - the whole truth. Telling the truth meant admitting failure. "We still care about each other and we're going to try again."

His brother's expression turned from disbelief to disgust. "You're sticking with that lame story/"

"Yes."

"For the record, the rest of the staff may buy it, but I don't." Eric rocked back in his chair. "This isn't about your inability to accept failure like the rest of us, is it?"

Tension invaded Chuck's spine. "I don't know what you mean."

"You have no tolerance for weakness or failure. That goes double when it's your own. I credit your father for that. He rode you pretty hard."

Chuck had been a failure in his father's eyes. He knew it and accepted it.

"You could never accept that Blair might have gotten tired of playing house. You always blamed yourself for the failure of your marriage."

Chuck's surprise that Eric had read him so well vied with his anger at the unjust accusation, but he wasn't going to be so easily distracted. Worry for his brother had brought him to the lion's den. He parked his butt in the chair facing Eric. "Judging by the matching set of baggage beneath your eyes, you're not sleeping."

'What, are you a psychiatrist now?"

"You need to get your mind off work and get laid. Find someone to take the edge off. Isn't there a young man you can speed dial for an unemotional quickie?"

He could use a little of his own medicine. The trouble was, now that Blair was back, he didn't want anyone else, and even if he did, he couldn't risk a scandal that might cost them business.

Living with Blair was like walking a tightrope stretched between heaven and hell. One wrong step and he could fall and land on the wrong side of the rope. She'd insisted on sticking with her get-reacquainted stipulation, which resulted in him having one hell of a time concentrating on work.

The only upside: the lack of sheet time forced him to focus on less carnal aspects of his beautiful wife - like her new strength and confidence. Not to mention her recently acquired curves. A very sexy combo.

Eric pitched his pen onto the desktop. "Sex isn't the answer."

"Maybe not, but it relaxes you enough to get the blood flowing back to your brain."

A knock preceded the door opening a crack Allen, Eric's assistant, pocked her head through the gap. His gaze flickered between Chuck and Eric and then settled on his boss. "Your next appointment is on his way up."

Chuck turned back to Eric and caught a quick glimpse of something on his brother's face he hadn't seen before. But then Eric blinked and straightened, his mouth reforming into a tense line, before Chuck could decipher the expression. "Thank you, Allen. Give me five minutes."

"Yes, sir." The door closed.

His own lack of sleep had him imagining things. Was there something between his brother and Allen? No way. Eric would never condone and office affair. Maybe thoughts of another man had brought that hungry expression to Eric's face just before his assistant had knocked. Did he have a speed date in mind already?

Chuck rose. "Think about what I said. Get a little R & R before you crack up. I don't want you to turn into me."

"I'm fine. You watch your step. I don't want to have to clean up again after hurricane Blair blows out of your life again."

"Not going to happen." Chuck intended to make damned sure of it. He might be fallible and he did make mistakes.

But he never made the same one twice.