The door clicked into place, sealing them inside the massive office.
Killian didn't move from where he stood. His green eyes dark with an anger that felt almost heavy enough to touch. He looked at her—at the clashing purple and blue clothes, at the scuffed sneakers, at the cheap backpack clutched against her chest.
"I asked you a question, Noor," he said. He didn't shout. His voice was low that made the hairs on her arms stand up. "What the fuck are you doing in my building?"
Noor's fingers tightened around the straps of her backpack. The confidence she'd felt while passing the receptionist evaporated, leaving her throat completely dry.
"I... I brought you lunch," she stammered, her voice small. "You work long hours. I thought you might be hungry."
Killian let out a short, mocking laugh. He took two slow steps toward her, his hands tucked casually into his trouser pockets, though his shoulders were stiff. "You thought I might be hungry."
"Yes."
