There had been other men. Lots of them, but only Hip managed to take not only her body but also her soul and turn her into a quivering, quaking mess of bliss.
He waited for her, and once she came, he gave a final push into her and jetted his seed with a groan.
Afterward, he collapsed on top of her before rolling over next to her on the bed. She burrowed in the crook of his arm and tucked his hand between her bare breasts.
"If you would have just invited me in for this, I wouldn't have had to race you," he teased, playing with her hair.
"But if I'd have done that then if the guards came in and found you, you'd have wound up in jail. This way, you'll end up king one day. It turned out well, didn't it?"
He stiffened. "What do you think the guards would do if they found me here now? You don't think I'd get locked up now, do you?"
She held out her hand, the huge emerald ring sparkling on her left hand. "No. They might not be happy, but they've worked too hard to find me a husband to ruin it now. You'd have to do worse than get caught in my bedroom for them to throw you in the dungeon."
"Thank the gods." He squeezed her close.
"Hey, speaking of you getting thrown in the dungeon, there's something I've been wanting to ask you."
"Go ahead."
He'd already told her how he procured the golden apples, and the men who helped him by sending him to the centaur. But she still had a few questions.
"How did you smuggle in the magic apples? I wouldn't think security would have let you in with them."
"I told them they were for good luck. Trinkets from my dead mother."
She made a face. "So you lied?"
"Girl, you don't know half the things I had to do to get your attention."
"Your mother isn't dead, is she?"
"She's very much alive. But I've been meaning to tell you something."
His voice sounded serious, so she lifted herself onto an elbow and faced him. "What is it?"
"Remember those guys who were at the race—Mello and Sellers?"
She nodded.
"We've got a problem."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
"Are you sure this is safe?" Atalanta asked, clutching Desdemona’s leash. She’d brought the cat because she never failed to intimidate people.
They were supposed to be meeting Mello and Sellers at this out of the way cafe. It had a small porch out back where Atalanta and Hip sat, each drinking one of the new teas that everyone was talking about.
"You may be a princess, but I've got a few connections myself. Trust me, it will be fine." He stroked Desdemona between the ears, and she purred loudly.
Atalanta smiled. “She really likes you.”
Hip winked at her then checked his six o’clock.
The men had insisted on an outdoor location, most likely to avoid royal surveillance. Now that Hip was about to be part of the royal family himself, he had a security detail tailing him as well.
"I don't think these guys have any intention of hurting us. They'd be fools to try to harm a hair on your head. Trust me on that. No one wants to endure a lifetime of slavery to the gods of the underworld."
Atalanta nodded. The punishment for harming a royal was steep and served as a solid deterrent, which was why she was able to travel amongst her people without fear.
They only waited a couple of minutes before the two men rounded the side of the building and climbed up onto the porch without bothering to offer their patronage to the establishment where they sat.
"We didn't know we were also meeting the princess," Mello spoke through clenched teeth.
Mello showed deference to Atalanta with a deep bow. He then nudged Sellers, who then bowed as well.
They both watched Desdemona warily.
"I invited myself," Atalanta said brightly, adding, "I hope you don't mind."
"As nice as it would be to rub elbows with a royal, our business is really with Hip here. So if you don't mind..."
He left the sentence hanging, expecting Atalanta to fill in the blanks for herself.
Atalanta pretended to be offended, but Hip knew she was only pretending.
"Fine. Hip, I'll see you back at the palace later?" she asked.
"You bet," Hip responded and made a point to watch her ass as she and Desdemona exited the establishment.
When she was out of sight, he shifted his attention to his guests.
"That's a fine-lookin' woman you got there, Hip old boy," Mello said, nudging Sellers with his elbow.
"Sure is," Sellers agreed.
"Why thank you." Hip smiled and took a sip of his drink. "You guys thirsty? Want anything?"
Mello and Sellers slid into the seats across from him.
"Funny you should ask," Mello said, "cuz we're kind of the reason you've got that sweet little princess in the first place."
"I know, and I'm quite appreciative. Already told Chiron he can dance with the bride at the wedding."
"Well, we had something more in mind than a dance. To show your gratitude, that is."
"Oh? What did you have in mind?" Hip urged.
"I'm sure you can think of something," Sellers piped up.
These guys probably expected surveillance, so perhaps that was why they weren't spelling out their terms, but that was exactly what Hip needed them to do.
"You're probably going to get a nice fat bank account once you two make it official, am I right?" Mello asked.
Hip nodded.
"We just think you oughta spread some of that around, ya know?"
"And if I disagree?" Hip asked, praying Mello would fall into his trap.
"If you can't show us a little love, a bit of gratitude for your good fortune, which of course, is in part thanks to our assistance, then we might have to share the news with the citizens of Xenapolis that their new golden boy is a fraud. That he cheated his way into their royal family."
"Hey, that doesn't sound right. The princess knows about the apples, and she still wants to marry me."
"The public might not be so forgiving..." Mello tapped his fingers on the table between them.
"So you're blackmailing me?" Hip asked.
"You could call it that," Mello said smugly.
That was the answer Hip had been waiting for. He slipped his hand inside his pants pocket, pressed a button, and leaped out of the way.
Out of nowhere a stealth drone appeared overhead and dropped a net over the top of Mello and Sellers.
"Hey! What the hell?" Mello screamed. Sellers only growled, and they both stood up and fought to free themselves, but were having no luck. Every time they tried to pull the net away from their skin it stuck somewhere else.
A team of law enforcement robots swarmed around them. The Greaca in charge told them they were under arrest for blackmailing a future member of the crown.
"Hey, you can't arrest us. This has all been a big misunderstanding."
"What kind of misunderstanding?" the Greaca officer asked. "We've got you on record threatening the future prince here."
"You don't understand. The king hired us to help him," Mello insisted.
"The king did what?" Hip was incredulous.
"He knew all about it. The whole plan. He was the brains behind it. Get you to beat his daughter. Said it was the only way she'd ever settle down."
Hip couldn't believe what he was hearing. His first reaction was anger on behalf of Atalanta, but then he softened. So both the men in Atalanta's life had plotted to save her from a life of loneliness. What he and her father had done had been devious, but ultimately, she'd been given the choice.
And that was what mattered—where they'd gotten in the end.
But he made a mental note to keep an eye on his future father-in-law. The king might seem like an old softie, but you didn't get to stay the ruler of Xenapolis without having a savage side as well.
The Greaca stared down at the two men writhing against the net and shook his head and scales in the process. "Did he also know you were planning to
blackmail his future son-in-law?"
Mello fumed.
Sellers hit his head with his palm. "You just had to get greedy, didn't you?"
Hip expected smoke to come out of the big man's ears any minute, and he wouldn't have wanted to be in Mello's place at that moment.
He was thankful for all those who helped him on his journey to find love with his princess, but it was essential that Mello and Sellers be made aware they would not be holding anything over him.
When it came to the future, Hip didn't want anything standing in the way of his and Atalanta's happiness. He'd found his dream girl, and he intended to do everything in his power to make their lives together as amazing as possible.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Atalanta threaded her arm through Hip’s as they walked along the road.
"You know this is the same path where I searched for you during the weeks after we first met?"
She blushed. He always made her feel so cherished, so loved.
"Now I'm sorry I played so hard to get," she lied.
"Yeah, right." He laughed, calling her bluff.
"Well, it all worked out in the end."
Taking his hand, she twirled herself under his arm then landed pressed against his chest. He leaned down and she parted her lips, eager for a kiss.
He pressed his mouth to hers, and they kissed hungrily.
They'd been married three months now, but had yet to exhaust the flame that burned between them. If anything marriage had intensified their desire for each other.
A gale of giggles erupted behind them, and Atalanta stepped back from Hip's embrace to see what was so funny.
A group of children stood next to them laughing. One of them pointed his index finger at them.
"What's the matter? You've never seen a man kiss his wife?" Hip teased.
This made the children laugh even harder.
"It's funny now, but one day you'll be kissing a girl of your own," Hip told the boys.
The one little girl in the group made a face then said, "Eww gross!"
"It's true," Atalanta said to her.
The kids had a hula hoop, and Hip surprised Atalanta when he asked if he could have a turn.
As she watched him wiggle his hips around inside the bright orange ring, it brought her back to their wedding. She'd danced with Chiron in her fairytale-inspired bridal gown, complete with delicate pink flowers atop the full skirt. That had been the first time she'd seen Hip dance.
She knew he had amazing moves between the sheets, but at the party after their ceremony, he'd proven he had some moves on the dance floor as well.
It was her turn with the hula hoop, and she shimmied and shook her hips to keep the ring spinning.
The sun shone bright, and a flock of birds flew overhead. She'd never seen the sky bluer.
She could imagine her and Hip playing with their own children like this one day.
For the first time in ages, she was content.
Happy.
After a while, one of the children reminded another that they still had to pick up some supplies for his mother.
"She will skin you alive if you don't bring her those spices for your dinner, Malachi," the little girl said. "We'd better go."
"Yes. You want to keep your mother happy. Run along," Atalanta encouraged.
The children ambled down the road, waving goodbye as they went.
As soon as they were gone, Hip took her hand in his. "Did you notice most of those children had holes in their clothes?"
She nodded. A few of them had shoes so worn out they were barely holding together. And one boy looked like he could use some dental work.
"Refugees from the Domhan Nua. I think we should be doing more to help them and their families."
"Let's talk to your father. You are a princess, Atalanta. You can use your influence to make changes, you know."
Hip was right. It was time for her to use her position for good, and now she had a little leverage with her father. It wasn't beneath her to play on his guilt for his behind-the-scenes role in Hip’s win over her in the race.
"You're right. I've spent a large part of my life hiding from my position. I was afraid of being taken advantage of."
He grimaced.
"And while you did take advantage of my situation, you did it for the right reasons. I guess my father did too." She was still trying to forgive her father for manipulating the “race for the princess” campaign. It was difficult having the men you loved trying to get over on you, but in the end, she'd found a husband who was perfect for her, so perhaps the end justified the means.
"Let's face it, Atalanta. You're stubborn. If your father and I hadn't intervened, you'd still be single. Still be lonely, and for who knows how long."
She sighed. "Forever. I hate to admit how right you both were, but there it is. I guess I don't know everything all the time."
"Can I get that in writing?" he teased.
"No, and I will never admit to anyone that I uttered those words. I hope you had a recording device going in your head because those words will never leave my mouth again."
They smiled at each other.
He was perfect for her, and he had a need to help her people.
Hip would make a great king. And an excellent father.
He'd freed her from her self-imposed emotional prison, and showed her what it was to love and be loved.
And nothing was more important than that.
"Hip, can we go back to the palace?"
"Of course, my dear. What do you have in mind?"
"I thought we might take dinner in our bedchamber."
"That may be the best idea you've had yet."
She laughed, knowing they would live happily ever after.
IF YOU ENJOYED THE Girl Who Ran Like the Wind, check out the other stories in Normandie’s Myths Retold collection.
Secret Husband
Psyche is forbidden from seeing her husband, and she fears he’s not human.
Her Creator
He couldn’t find the perfect girl. So he created one. What could go wrong?
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