When Killian finally stepped back into the room, his eyes immediately went to the rug.
The tray was empty.
A twisted sort of surprise flickered through him. She had actually eaten it. He looked at her slumped form, feeling a wave of nausea. He wondered how she had managed to swallow the scraps of a man who had just called her a slave, but then again, maybe she was used to being treated like an animal.
He didn't know why that bothered him.
He stared at her features, his gaze lingering longer than he intended. Up close, Noor didn't look like someone who could hurt a fly. She had a peaceful, calm look to her—the kind of face that suggested innocence and naivety. But Killian knew better. Looks were the ultimate lie. Even if the crash had been an accident, he had convinced himself she did it on purpose, a desperate move to slide into the life Velvette had built.
But did she really look like a social climber?
