Free Black Lilith: Book One (Black Lilith #1) by Hazel Jacobs

because they’re in separate rooms and not sharing—and nods. She hopes that her face is neutral.
    “What was the money for?” she asks as they head toward the elevators together.
    “A cab,” he replies. “Can’t leave girls like that stranded with no way to get home.”
    “Girls like that?”
    He gives her an unimpressed look as he punches the elevator button and the doors spring open. “Don’t be that way, you know what I mean. She’s been drinking, and she’s vulnerable. She’s safer at home than wandering around on the streets of LA.”
    Mikayla purses her lips and nods slowly. He gestures for her to precede him into the elevator and she goes, carefully walking so that her hips don’t sway. She doesn’t want to seem like she’s coming on to him. Not here, not when they’re heading up to their rooms, using the same elevator that the rest of the band had used to guide their female company up for the night.
    “Do the others get cab fare?” she asks.
    Logan reaches across her, and she deliberately doesn’t look down at his tattooed forearm as he pushes the button for the tenth floor. “And room service. I’ll settle the bill when we leave.”
    Mikayla nods. Black Lilith would be playing at a few other venues across LA over the next week, but always with at least a day between each performance. Mikayla still doesn’t understand how they managed to convince Bass Note to let them take such a laid-back approach to their schedule. She finds herself grinning as she imagines Slate leaning over a conference table, charming a female executive into letting the band take it easy on tour.
    She glances up at the reflective elevator door to find Logan watching her thoughtfully. “What’s funny?” he asks.
    Mikayla drops her gaze. “Just thinking about who Slate must have had to charm to get you guys such awesome tour dates.”
    She looks up in time to see a frown flicker across Logan’s lips. But a second later she thinks that she may have imagined it because he grins at her like they’re sharing a joke.
    “What makes you think it was Slate?” he asks. “You should see Tommy bat his baby blues at the execs. We’d be riding in private jets and eating caviar if he didn’t insist on only using his powers for good.”
    She grins wider. “I’m starting to notice how disturbingly charming Black Lilith is.”
    “You think we’re charming?” he asks. There’s something almost flirtatious in his tone, his soft brown eyes crinkling at the edges as he speaks, and Mikayla hesitates.
    She’s saved from answering when the elevator doors open. As she wheels her small suitcase through and waits for Logan to join her with his own, much larger suitcase, she tries to come up with a response which isn’t too damning. Something which matches his tone, but doesn’t go beyond it because she vividly remembers him telling her that he’d been out of line to hit on her. If he’s flirting now, he must be doing it with the knowledge that she won’t take him seriously. She has to remind herself not to take him seriously. Men like Logan—men who can have any woman they want, who have so many offers that they turn women away as a matter of course—probably use flirting as a second language.
    But she doesn’t want to shut him down or push him away. Not now that they’re finally getting along.
    “Some more charming than others,” she says, and she’s pleased with that response. It’s not incriminating.
    He winks at her. Whatever he read into that statement, it was obviously complimentary, but she can’t control what he interprets. Plausible deniability, she tells herself as they amble down the hallway.
    “Is Slate his real name?” she asks suddenly.
    “That’s a closely guarded secret,” Logan replies seriously. “You’ll have to sign an NDA. Go through the trials. Sign over your first born.”
    “Would he take the third born?” she asks. “I’ve got a couple of creditors who’ve already called dibs on the