SNEAK PEEK! Platinum Sequel Promises More Dirt, More Scandal

SNEAK PEEK! Platinum Sequel Promises More Dirt, More Scandal

Aliya S. King’s latest book Diamond Life—the follow-up to her celeb-dripping, best-seller Platinum—tops our reading list. Read on for an exclusive excerpt

Aliya S. King

by Aliya S. King, February 03, 2012

SNEAK PEEK! Platinum Sequel Promises More Dirt, More Scandal

Exclusive Excerpt: Diamond Life, read chapter 4!

past,  Alex,"  said  Josephine. "We're  moving on. Right,  Ras?"

Ras looked  at his wife. Her  eyebrows were  raised.  He nodded and grabbed her hand.

"We're working on it." Dessert and  coffee  were  served,  and  the conversation turned to cheesecake and espresso and  the beautiful sunset they could see from  the porch of the open-air restaurant. But Ras's mind was still on Alex. He could  not shake the feeling  that Alex had ulterior mo­ tives for  traveling with  Birdie  to Jamaica. And  he  just didn't like the idea of her spending too much  time alone with  his wife.

Ras took a deep breath and  dismissed the feeling. The important  thing was  that  he was  doing  the  right  thing now.  It  didn't matter what   Alex  said.  It didn't matter if Cleo wrote  ten  more books.  What mattered was that Ras had  no secrets.  He  had  been faithful to  his  wife  for  nearly a year  and they  were moving into a new chapter in their lives.

Ras felt  his cell phone buzz in  his pocket and tried desperately to  ignore it.  He'd promised his  wife   he  would stop answering his  phone and checking text  messages during meals. The phone stopped ringing and then he heard a text  message chirp. Alex and Josephine had  their heads together, whispering about something. Ras  took the  opportunity to ease  his cell  phone out  of his  pocket and unlock it.

I like  your hair like that. Did you cut it?

Ras's  hand flew  up  to his head and then he whipped his neck around to see who  else was in the  restaurant.

"What's wrong?" Josephine asked.

Ras shook his head and kept looking around. Who would be texting him about his  haircut? He  looked down at  the  phone. The text  message came from a number in  Jamaica. Ras  racked his  brain to  think of  anyone in  Jamaica who would text   him and came up  empty. It  could have been  a  wrong number. Ras exhaled.

"I'll be right back," Ras said, excusing himself from the  table.

He  walked quickly to  the   back  of  the  restaurant, typing out  a message on  the  way.

"I'm pretty sure you  have  the  wrong number."  

He   hit  SEND and then pushed in  the  door to the  bathroom. He   ran   water over   his  face,  wiped his  face  and  hands with a paper towel, and then checked his  face  in  the  mirror. His heart was still  racing and he couldn't seem to calm himself. It was just a wrong number, he said  out  loud. And what if it wasn't? What if it was  ... her?

The last  time Ras  saw  Cleo, he didn't tell  her  it  was  over.  He had no  idea  what she  was  capable of. So  he went out  of his  way to  make her  think there was  nothing unusual about the  visit.  For ninety minutes, he'd engaged in  every twisted sexual fantasy he could possibly  imagine and, as usual, Cleo  didn't deny him  anything. He  kissed  her on her forehead when he left, as always. She told him she loved him, as always.

And   when  he  pulled   up  to  his  house,   he   jumped  in   the shower and   was  clean  and  dressed   just  as  the  movers   arrived to pack  up  all of their   belongings. He  changed his cell number and   instructed his  bodyguards and   drivers-anyone Cleo  had access to-to do  the same.  Within forty-eight hours of their  last sexual  encounter, he was sitting on  the front porch  of the  house on a former sugar plantation in Saint  Catherine Parrish. Just  as quickly, he'd  put Cleo out of his mind. Or at least tried  to.

Completely forgetting Cleo  had  been  impossible. For  the  past year, as he repaired his relationship with  his wife,  he dreamt of his  mistress  nightly. He  had  orgasms in  his  dreams, waking up and  quickly stripping the  bed  before  Josephine could  find  out. One  night  several  months ago,  he  broke  down. He  flew  out  to New  Jersey  and  found out  where Cleo  lived.  He  was halfway to her  house  when he turned back  around and  headed to  the  air­ port.  He  Googled her  often, tracking her  whereabouts through the blogs that  always  posted  items about her.

Lately,  Ras  had  been  wondering if he'd  ever  be  completely free  of her.  Would she  always cast a shadow over  his life?  And now,  one year  after  he'd  walked away  from her  and  rededicated himself  to his marriage, he felt like  he might know the answer.

Ras  left  the  bathroom and  began  walking back  to the  table. His  breathing was  controlled and  he'd   stopped sweating. Cleo had not won.  He wasn't over her yet. But she had not-Ras's cell phone  chirped again.

"I can't  believe you would have  dinner with  Alex but not with me ..."

Ras clenched his teeth  and  marched through the dining room, his eyes trained on the  table  where his wife  sat. If that  bitch  was anywhere near  his

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