Match Point (Alaskan Sabears #4)

By: Becca Van

All Pepper Silverton has ever wanted to do is fly planes. When she successfully lands her de Havilland plane without any landing gear in the middle of a blizzard on a small remote Alaskan Island, she’s thankful to be alive. What she doesn’t expect is the strong attraction she feels for Calloway Walden and Finbar Stark when she sets eyes on them for the first time—but she plans to ignore it.

Cal and Fin know Pepper is their mate from the first moment and hope to court her into falling in love with them before the mating heat kicks in. However, the fates have different plans, and within hours of seeing their mate, all three of them are burning up with desire.

When twenty kilos of amphetamines are found hidden in Pepper’s plane, she’s knows trouble is brewing.

Her guilt over inadvertently bringing trouble to Savoonga won’t let her jeopardize innocent people, and she makes a spontaneous decision that could end up getting her killed.


Darryn Blackburn glanced about the hangar, and when his eyes alighted on the only plane in the large shed, he hoped that was the one he was looking for. It had to be since it was the only aircraft here. His new boss had ordered him to plant the drugs in the lining of the cabin, and after the craft landed in Russia, they were to be picked up by one of his boss’s men. It helped that there was a storm crossing the Russian Continent, which would make it easier for Fyodor to retrieve the stash.

After making sure no one was about, Darryn opened the cabin door and pulled the steps down. He hurried inside, pulled his tools from the belt he had wrapped around his waist, which was hidden by his trench coat, and moved toward the back of the aircraft. It didn’t take him long to unscrew the panels, and after ripping the plastic wrap, which was securing the bags of ice amphetamines to his body, he shoved the twenty kilo bags into the lining of the wall, being careful to place them so the bags wouldn’t rip open, and secured the paneling back in place. He screwed the plastic wrap up into a ball and shoved into his pocket before pulling his shirt back down to cover his tool belt, glanced about to make sure everything was back where it had been, and then hurried toward the doorway.

He wasn’t an aircraft maintenance worker, but he’d made sure to study the workings of the de Havilland, before heading toward the private airport on the outskirts of Anchorage to carry out his orders.

His foresight was a godsend since he’d been told to make sure the plane couldn’t take off after unloading and loading up again with cargo. He crouched down and crawled under the belly of the craft and mentally pictured the landing gear schematics he’d studied intently online. He grabbed the cutters from his belt, shoved his hand up into the hole where the wheels would retract to, and snipped through the hydraulics line nearly all the way. He hoped like hell the craft didn’t have any problems bringing the landing gear up after takeoff. If that happened, the pilot would turn the plane around and the drugs would never get to their destination. And he would be a dead man.

Darryn had always walked on the wrong side of the law, but he’d made a fatal mistake by hooking up with Borya Ivanov. That fucker had lured him in by daring him to steal, and his crimes had quickly escalated to breaking and entering, and eventually murder. He hadn’t realized at the time that Borya was working for a new up-and-coming drug lord in Russian until it was way too late. Darryn was in over his head with no way out except in a box.

He pushed his anger aside and crawled to the other rear landing wheel and, after snipping at the hydraulics line, he moved to the front wheel. If the information on the Internet was correct, the hydraulic fluid would eat into the remaining line until the landing gear failed. That would mean the pilot wouldn’t be able to head back home to Anchorage until the problem had been fixed. He just hoped that the pilot was skilled enough to land the craft without too much damage to the aircraft. He didn’t give a shit about the pilot. All he cared about was that the upcoming drug lord, Fyodor Bazanov, got the drugs. Maybe after that Darryn would be able to talk the leader into letting him go.

“Fucking Russian pricks,” he muttered as he hurriedly folded the steps to the cabin and shut the door. He was on his way out when he heard footsteps heading in his direction. He glanced about for a hiding spot, but there was nowhere to run. He’d already checked the side office door earlier but found it locked. He’d intended to break in and steal any cash or other valuables after he’d finished his task, but his plans had just gone to shit. He tugged his shirt down over his tool belt and pulled his coat together as he spun around to gaze at the sexy woman strolling toward him.