Chapter 92.
Becca stood up as the taxing jet shuddered to a halt on the private airfield reserved for the Scandinavian Royals.
“Are you sure you packed enough?” Fredrick sarcastically asked, as he pulled the many small cases, she had brought with her from the overhead lockers.
“Shut up. Love me, love my over packing,” Becca grinned at him, as she grabbed two of the bags herself.
“Oh god, look,” Fredrick pointed as he took a double take out of the oval window onto the tarmac.
Becca peered out, rolling her lips together as one of the ground crew at the airport buckled at the knees as he carried two of her larger suitcases to the awaiting limo.
“Is he human?” she asked, feeling a little sorry for the man.
“Nope, he is one of the Swedish pack omegas who work here,” Fredrick chuck
