A Bid For Love

pocket.
    "Nothing major." Scott rejoined them after only a few minutes, slipping his phone back into its belt case as he sat down. "Got a meeting with an informant in the morning. Maybe something we can finally get Gengo Morita for, and put his ass behind bars for good." He tipped an imaginary hat at his date. "Sorry, Eddy. This guy's been giving us headaches for years."
    Asher lost any interest in the capture of the noted mobster when his cell began vibrating. Courtesy warred with burning curiosity. When he realized he hadn't actually processed a word of Scott's last three sentences, he gave in to the curiosity. Excusing himself, he moved a few steps away, retrieving his phone from his pocket. The notice of a reply to his email burned on the screen.
    He dropped into the nearest chair and opened the email. Relief came with each word. No gloating, no innuendo, just a charming acknowledgement of his note and a wish to spend some time getting to know him as they planned out the details of the trip. No pressure, no mention wanting anything in exchange for the exorbitant amount she'd bid, just a friendly message expressing her pleasure at their coming meeting.
    Only after he'd sent a reply did it occur that she hadn't signed her name.

Chapter 2
----

    "So, did you ever find out who this mysterious Anonymous is who's meeting you in Italy?" Holly grinned at him over her computer screen. "I figured she'd have made you pay her plane fare, too."
    Asher put the last report of the day on the stack in his out box. "I rather expected that myself. Oddly, she made no such request. And I'll know who she is, or at least what she looks like, in about..." He checked his watch. "Thirteen hours. I have just time to get to the airport and meander through security when I clock out."
    "Well, this just isn't fair." Noah Wight's half-grin spoiled the pout that too frequently made up his expression. "You off to the Italian Riviera, Scott's already flown the coop on some secret assignment, and I'm stuck here in DC. I really need to appease the karma gods or something."
    "Yes." Asher didn't try to restrain the imp inside. "Do search your memory, find what horror you perpetrated on some poor colleague, and make amends." A smile bloomed. "I'm sure there's a long list of us who'd appreciate it."
    "He's still got his auction date to worry about. I don't know why he's whining." Holly smiled up at Asher as he neared the exit. "Can I talk you into bringing me back a handsome young gondolier? Or at least a Tower of Pisa coffee mug?"
    "I'll opt for the coffee mug." Asher gathered his coat and scarf from the rack. Time to head for the airport. "The other won't fit in my suitcase."

    * * * *
    Thank God he'd splurged on an e-reader. Transatlantic flights, even in business class, seemed to last ten times longer than the actual flight time. Asher grabbed his carry-on and headed for the Genoa terminal, eager to find the shuttle to Portofino and his hotel. An hour's trip with a spectacular view of the Italian coastline.
    Ah, Portofino. He looked forward to the city, even if he didn't look forward to the expense incurred on his credit card. At least he knew he had a companion who held him in considerable worth. A few thousand dollars worth at least. That alone made this a unique experience. Vague daydreams of wandering the quieter streets while adoring eyes gazed up at him made the wait for customs and then the shuttle far less onerous than usual.
    The Hotel San Giorgio certainly held up to its website image, from the outside at least. Beautiful in its white simplicity, it gleamed in the evening lights of Portofino. There really was just something about Italy that called to the romantic in him.
    The lovely young woman at the reservation desk told him his guest had already arrived. A strange gleam lit her dark eyes as she looked him over while he signed the register, the lilt of her accent pleasing enough but...amused, somehow. He took it as simply the joy of life that seemed to resonate throughout Europe--often in rather sensual form--and headed for his suite, his mind now full of his unknown date.
    If only Noah's karma gods hadn't decided to screw with him. He had to admit some trepidation and concerns, now he'd actually been purchased. The antique mirror gracing the hallway wall begged him to stop and check his appearance. He ran a hand through the wave of wheat-colored hair perpetually falling over one eye, smoothing it back. It immediately tumbled forward.