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There are two things you need to know about me. 1: I’m never late. And 2: I hate Christmas. Yes, I’m a girl who hates the holidays.

My entire, enormous family is already enjoying their holiday vacation in Iceland, but thanks to my busy job and having to meet them there, I’m late. They could have chosen any holiday to fly across the world, but Christmas won, which sent me scrambling because the end of the year is my busiest time. It’s difficult to carve out moments to see the family at all.

So, now, I’m forty thousand feet in the air, trying to get to Iceland before Christmas morning, all while also attempting to get some work done. If only the hot guy next to me would leave me be.

Dylan says I should put the work away until after my holiday and relax a bit. And while his suggestion of spending some time together on the north Atlantic island seems preposterous, I can’t help but feel intrigued when he promises to show me how to enjoy the Yuletide season properly.

After all, I can’t possibly spend every minute with my family.

But how do I just shrug off my duty to my job and throw caution to the wind for a stranger…no matter how handsome he is? Because that’s something else about me: I never throw caution to the wind—even a beautiful, blustery Icelandic wind.

Then again, Mama always said, “Never say never…”


EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: The Scramble

Kristen Proby

AVAILABLE NOW

Book Series: 

An all-new holiday, meet-cute romance is out this week from Kristen Proby, and I have a sneak peek for you.

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Excerpt

“Oh, fuck that.”

My head whips around, and I stare at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re flying all the way to Iceland, one of the most magical places in the freaking world, and you’re not going to see anything?”

I hold up the computer and give it a little wave. “Work.”

“Nope. No work. Take the week and enjoy it, Maddie. You only get this one life. Live a little.”

“I appreciate your concern, but you don’t even know me, Dylan.”

“I’d like to, if I’m being honest. I took one look at you when I boarded and just knew.”

“Knew what?” Why is my heart suddenly beating so damn fast?

He leans a little closer, and I catch the scent of cedar mixed with something spicy.

“I knew that I wanted to know you.”

“Why?”

Those green eyes narrow, and something else replaces the humor in them. Heat? Lust?

Whatever it is, it makes the cha-cha turn into the merengue.

“Sexy woman, wearing glasses. Have I mentioned that I have a thing for glasses?”

“No.”

“Well, I do. Your fingers are long and slim and fly over that keyboard. It’s sexy.”

“My typing is sexy?”

“Hmm.” He nods slowly. “And I like the scarf you’re wearing.”

I glance down at the red silk scarf with white cats on it that Josie got me for Christmas last year.

“The red makes your eyes look like pools of melted chocolate.”

“Um, am I in an alternate universe?” I glance around to find the other passengers in first class completely ignoring us—watching screens, snacking, or sleeping.

And then the overhead lights go out, casting the cabin into darkness so the passengers who want to sleep the night away until we land can do so.

“Mood lighting,” Dylan whispers next to me, and I giggle. “I’m breaking through that shell of yours.”

“I think you’re just wearing me down.”

“Same difference.”

He touches me, and I think my heart might explode. Then he reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear.

“There, now I can see your face better.”

“Do you do this on every flight, Dylan?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“You know, flirt with the girl next to you so shamelessly she invites you to do her in the bathroom?”

He bites his lip and then laughs, and I suddenly feel so stupid. I wish the floor of the plane would open and send me down into Alaska.

“First of all, no. I usually avoid talking to people on planes like the plague. And number two, did you just invite me to the bathroom?”

Did I?

I start to shake my head and then reconsider.

I set my laptop in its bag at my feet, unbuckle the seatbelt, and with a small smile at Dylan, stand and walk in the darkness to the bathroom.

What am I doing? I never, ever, ever do stuff like this. The last time I’d had sex, we had a different president.

I’m not promiscuous.

But damn if he’s not sexy and charming and—

Before I can complete the thought, the door opens, and Dylan slips inside, locking the door.

We’re so smooshed together I have no idea how this will work.

“Not much room in here,” I whisper, not wanting anyone to hear us.

Not that they could over the sound of the plane, but still.

“We don’t need much room.”

I fist my hands in the front of his shirt, partly so I don’t fall backward, and partly because I want to get my hands on him.

“Maddie, if you aren’t sure about this, I’ll leave right now.”

My breath comes fast, and I can’t take my eyes off his lips. Damn, I want him to kiss me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

“Are you ever going to kiss me?”

Those lips twitch.

“I don’t have a condom with me, Maddie. I didn’t plan this.”

“Hell, who does?” I glance up into laughing green eyes. “Okay, don’t answer that.”

“So, we’re going to have to get inventive.”

I’ve never been inventive when it comes to sex. I’m a typical missionary-with-the-lights-out kind of girl.

This is definitely not that.

“Uh, sure. Okay.”

He tips up my chin and hovers his lips over mine. He’s inches away, just waiting.

For what? I have no idea.

“Melted chocolate,” he whispers before finally covering my mouth with his and sinking into me. It starts out soft and sweet, so new that it takes my breath away.

Then, his hands cup my face.

He groans a little, the appreciative sound deep in his throat.

I suddenly can’t handle it anymore. I plunge my fingers into his thick, dark hair, and he cups my ass, lifting me until I fit around him.

“Gotta be fast,” he warns. “Otherwise, someone will come knocking.”

“Fast,” I agree as he braces me on the tiny excuse for a sink, and I reach for his jeans.

“Hop up.”

I lift my ass, and he wiggles my leggings down over my hips, his lips never leaving mine.

He growls when I set him free and cup his hard length in my hand.

“Ah, shit.”

“You’re very hard.”

“From the minute I saw you,” he confirms. “I’d like to look at you when I do this, but there’s no space.”

“Just do it.”

Have I ever wanted someone so much? No. Never. I want him inside me so badly I’m ready to beg for it.

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