Agents Under Fire by Dana Marton Page B

The embassy said that?” To his credit, even though her troubles had nothing to do with him, Jake paid attention. “How did Kenneth ever come up with the idea of coming here?”
    “ Mitch Wharton, a friend of his, did some business around here that turned out pretty well, supposedly. He talked Kenneth into checking out the place. Harvard men stick together. They pass on business opportunities if they can.” Kenneth had always been very proud of that.
    “ Any relation to Congressman Richard Wharton?” Jake showed genuine interest, instead of being bored with all the back story. He might have looked a little rough around the edges, and had an unhealthy zest for adventure, but he was a good man to have around in a pinch.
    “ Mitch is Richard’s kid brother.” Kenneth tended to listen to him, tried to impress him when he could. He planned on going into politics once he was more established in business. He counted on Mitch’s help, and connections, for that.
    She hated the idea, but he’d told her he expected her full support so she’d been trying to work up the necessary enthusiasm. And not succeeding. She’d been trying to work on so many things regarding their relationship. And pretty much failing on every front. Guilt pricked her.
    As they reached the end of town, Jake slowed in deference to the potholes in the road. She rolled up her window against the unbearable dust and watched the stark landscape through the glass. Mostly rocks as far as the eyes could see, interrupted by patches of scraggly bushes. But the mountains looked majestic in the distance.
    Jake kept silent, probably thinking about how he could make up for all the time he was spending with her and away from his job.
    “ Are you on deadline with your publisher?”
    He hesitated for a second. “I’m all right. Almost have all the material I need.”
    Good. She didn’t want to inconvenience him more than absolutely necessary. “I’d be more than happy to pay you for your time.”
    “ No need,” he said again, same as last night.
    Very chivalrous, but her father had been Blake Myers of Myers & Mondini, the New England industrial giant. A business she struggled to prove herself in ever since his death.
    “ I have a lot of friends in publishing. If you ever need help in that area, you have to promise me you’ll call me,” she offered, without spelling out exactly who she was. Sometimes people looked at her differently once they knew she had money.
    He grinned. “I promise you’ll be the first to know the next time I have a press release.”
    The thought of him calling on her after they were both back in the U.S. sent a not altogether unpleasant tingle down her spine. His alpha male aura, the charisma that emanated from him seemed to effortlessly envelope her. But a prickle of guilt burst that pleasant bubble.
    She needed to focus on Kenneth.
    They pulled over in front of a large building complex about five miles outside of town, walled in by eight-foot tall mud brick walls. Part of the wall had been blown in, from the looks of it, maybe in the battle that had chased the warlord away. The compound stood stark and threatening in the bare landscape.
    A sudden premonition shivered up her spine. “Do you really think we should go in?”
    He got out and opened the door for her. “Might as well. We’re already here.”
    He helped her over the rubble when they reached the hole in the wall.
    “ Why aren’t they guarding this place?”
    “ A question of manpower, probably,” he said. “They need their equipment when they go out on week-long patrols. And if they leave nothing behind, they don’t need to leave anyone behind to guard it. They have better use for their men on the front lines.”
    The courtyard had seen better days, probably back when the warlord and his family had lived here. Looked like at one point it even had a rose garden. All that had been destroyed, only a few forlorn trees remained, doing their best to shade the well in the