“I’m not…complaining, Tristan, but can I just point something out?”“What’s that?”“We’re both…fairly powerful people. With professional reputations to protect.”“Don’t tell me you’ve never worn a little leather out on the town, Adrianna, because I won’t believe you.”True, sexually, Adrianna had not been overly discreet—but she’d also never paraded up the Las Vegas Strip looking like a full-blown BDSM call girl. She at least kept her kinkiness contained to private residences, hotel rooms, sometimes her office and also the occasional small, out-of-the-way club.“And besides,” he said, “if anyone thinks they recognize either of us, they’ll decide they’re wrong. Since they’ll know we’d be too smart to behave that recklessly.” He concluded with a wink and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.When they stepped onto the elevator, two younger guys in their twenties were already on board—looking dressed for a night on the Strip. She felt their eyes before the doors even slid shut, their gazes traveling across her partially exposed breasts and downward, as tangible as a touch.
