“Do you want to walk by Kent’s house to see?” Rosa’s eyes glitter with excitement. “Maybe we can peek in his window.”

I gape at her. “Rosa!” This is the last thing I would’ve expected from her. “We can’t do that.”

“Come on,” my friend cajoles. “It’ll be fun. Don’t you want to see who this blond girl is and why Kent’s got her?”

“I can just ask Julian about it. He’ll tell me.”

Rosa gives me a pleading look. “Yes, but I might die of curiosity before he does. I just want to see what Kent’s doing with her, that’s all.”

“Why?” I have no desire to see Julian’s right-hand man torture some unfortunate woman, and I have no idea why Rosa wants to witness something so disturbing. “If she betrayed Julian, it won’t be pretty.” My stomach lurches at the thought. Today is not one of my better days, nausea-wise.

Rosa flushes. “Just because. Come on, Nora.” Grabbing my wrist, she begins to tug me in the direction of the guards’ quarters. “Let’s just go over there. You’re pregnant, so no one will get mad at you for snooping.”

I let myself get towed behind her, flabbergasted by her inexplicable desire to play spy. Normally, Rosa displays little interest in matters concerning my husband’s criminal activities. I can’t fathom what’s behind her unusual behavior, unless . . .

“Are you interested in Lucas?” I blurt out, stopping and bringing us both to a halt. “Is that what this is all about?”

“What? No!” Rosa’s voice takes on a higher pitch. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

I stare at her, noting the brighter blush staining her cheeks. “Oh my God, you are interested.”

Rosa huffs and lets go of my wrist, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not.”

I hold up my palms in a conciliatory gesture. “Okay, okay. If you say so.”

Rosa glares at me for a moment, but then her shoulders slump and her arms drop to her sides. “Okay, fine,” she says glumly. “So maybe I do find him attractive. Just a little bit, okay?”

“Okay, of course,” I say with a reassuring smile. With his blond hair and fierce, square-jawed face, Lucas Kent reminds me of a Viking warrior—or at least Hollywood’s depiction of one. “He’s a good-looking man.”

Rosa nods. “He is. He doesn’t know that I exist, of course, but that’s to be expected.”

“What do you mean?” I frown at her. “Have you ever tried talking to him?”

“Talking about what? I’m just the maid who cleans the main house and occasionally brings the guards some treats from Ana.”

“You can ask him what his favorite food is,” I suggest. “Or how his day went. It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Just a simple hello would probably put you on his radar.” As I say this, I realize that being on the radar of a man like Lucas Kent may not be the best thing for Rosa—or any woman, really.

Before I can take back my suggestion, Rosa sighs and says, “I’ve said hello to him before. I just don’t think he sees me, Nora. Not like that. And why would he? I mean, look at me.” She gestures derisively toward herself.

“What are you talking about?” I still don’t think getting Lucas’s attention would be a positive development in Rosa’s life, but I can’t let that comment slide. “You’re very attractive.”

“Oh, please.” Rosa gives me an incredulous look. “I’m average at best. Someone like Kent is used to supermodels—like that blond girl he’s got with him now. I’m not his type.”

“Well, if you’re not his type, then he’s a fool,” I say firmly, and mean it. With her pleasantly round face, warm brown eyes, and bright smile, Rosa is quite pretty. She also has the kind of figure I’ve always envied: lush and curvy, with a nipped-in waist and full breasts. “You’re a beautiful girl—a guy would have to be blind not to see that.”

She snorts. “Right. That’s why my love life is so great.”

“Your love life is limited by the borders of this estate,” I remind her. “Besides, didn’t you tell me you dated a couple of the guards?”

“Oh, sure.” She waves her hand dismissively. “Eduardo and Nick—but that doesn’t mean anything. Guards are limited in their selection too, and they’re not that picky. They’ll fuck anything that moves.”

“Rosa.” I give her a reproving look. “Now you’re just exaggerating.”

She grins. “Okay, maybe. I should probably say ‘anything female that moves’—though I hear Dr. Goldberg gets some action, too. Rumor has it tattooed guys are his fave.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I shake my head, involuntarily grinning back, and we both burst into laughter at the image of the staid doctor getting it on with one of the big, tatted-up guards.

“Okay, now that we’ve established you’re crushing on Mr. Blond and Dangerous,” I say a couple of minutes later when we stop laughing and resume walking toward the guards’ housing, “can you please tell me again why you want to spy on him with this chick?”

“I don’t know,” Rosa admits. “I just do. It’s sick, I know, but I just want to see what he’s like with another woman.”