Page 106 of Billionaire Unforgettable: Tanner

“Get the hell off that ladder right now!” he said dangerously.

I checked to make sure the painting was straight and stepped down. “It’s not a ladder, Tanner. It’s a step stool that has two tiny little steps.”

I was getting used to the way Tanner treated me like I was made of fragile glass just because I was pregnant.

Part of me loved it because he was so protective of me and our child.

But it also drove me insane sometimes.

I couldn’t stub my toe without him flipping out about it.

“You should be resting. You had a long day at work,” he rumbled right before he wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me.

“You think I had a long day sitting in my office on my computer?” I teased, trying to get him to lighten up.

I was pregnant.

I wasn’t deathly ill.

“Hannah,” he said in a warning voice.

“Relax,” I insisted as I stroked my palm over his stubbled jaw. “I’m going to have a child. I’m perfectly healthy.”

I’d seen the doctor in Billings.

The pregnancy looked perfectly normal.

I was still a little nauseated sometimes in the morning, but even that was getting better.

A few hours and a few crackers in the morning resolved the nausea.

I actually felt great most of the time.

When I felt fatigued, a short nap when I got home helped a lot.

“I’m going to make damn sure you stay healthy,” Tanner informed me, holding me close to him like he was afraid to letme go. “We’re getting married in two months. I’m finally getting exactly what I want. And I want you to be healthy enough to enjoy it.”

“And then you’re taking me to Australia,” I said with a happy sigh.

“I’m still not sure that’s a wise idea,” he said grudgingly.

“You’re not getting out of that honeymoon,” I warned him. “Don’t start second-guessing everything, Tanner. I’ll be going into my second trimester. I won’t be hugely pregnant, my morning sickness will be gone, the possibility of a miscarriage will be minimal, and the doctor said it should be perfectly safe. You have a private jet for God’s sake. You can have me home quickly, but that’s not going to be necessary. It’s not like I’m asking you to take me to an underdeveloped country. They do have good healthcare in Australia.”

Tanner had offered the honeymoon without thinking about my pregnancy.

I’d jumped at the opportunity.

Not long after I’d enthusiastically agreed, Tanner had started to think about anything and everything that could go wrong with my pregnancy while we were out of the country.

Even though the doctor had assured him that travel, especially travel in a very posh private jet, would be perfectly fine at the beginning of my second trimester, Tanner had been worried about the trip.

“I don’t care,” he said stubbornly. “I think it would be better to have you at home. You’re still nauseated in the morning, and you’re still fatigued.”

“I won’t be,” I assured him. “Just wait and see. Things are better during the second trimester, and we’ll be too busy with a child to make that trip later. Maybe it’s selfish, but I want you to myself for a few weeks in Australia.”

“Fuck!” he cursed as his arms tightened around me. “I want that, too, Hannah. I want to give you everything you want, but the thought of anything bad happening is killing me.”

He’d had those fears since the second day we’d learned that I was pregnant.

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