TAMED

Seven

The sun shines brightly during that day. It's almost noon when Sahara emerged from her room wearing only a cottony white hanging sleeveless shirt with a plunging neckline. Matching up with a a very skimply short denim shorts. Her toned-tanned legs shimmering as the sunrays hit her glistening body.

After taking a bite on a home made sweetened cookie and a sip of her freshly brewed coffee, she decided to climb up to the grand balcony where she could have enough space overlooking the wide farm from beneath the mountainous rage where a beautiful view of white cattles and ponies busy roaming around is visible.

She lean on a huge couch with a sunglasses on her eyes and a book on her hand. On her spot, the sight was so amazing. Perfect for a honeymooners or for lovers. But not for her.

She winced a little when she felt the sun burning her skin. And she decided on applying a lotion before having a sun bathing session.

Just as she was about to get up and walks away from the balcony, a white strange thing from afar caught her eyes.

She stood there staring in awe. With a wide eyes and a slightly parted mouth.

A man was riding a white giant stallion. He's wearing a white sleeveless shirt and a denim tattered jeans with a black rusty boots covered with mud dirt.

His body move up and down as the huge animal gallopes on a rough areas. And the arms that held the rope were exposed under the sun with sweats and muscles popped in every angle.

Truly an example of a Marlboro.

He gazed up and their eyes met. He even wave a hand and blow her a kiss.

She quickly turn around to hid her flushed and flustered expression. A small smile curving up her lips.

Never in her life she saw such gorgeous body and eyes that can melt her knees like an ice cream. Hot and sultry feeling washes over her entire body that she held her hand up fanning some air.

"Milady..you have to go inside. The sun is burning you here.." Caroline softly said from behind her.

She spun to look around her laidy-in waiting, standing near at the door a few inches away from her. And she almost swallow hard in embarassment.

She hastily thump her foot and walked inside the house with a worn off face.

She was not used to being watched or followed everywhere. Irritational as it is, but she hated it when people mendled on her privacy.

One thing was on her mind as her feet leads her out of the house and into the back of the chateau. She needed to talk to him in anyway.

. . .

The yard was a musky-pungent smell. Strong scent of animals stinged her nostrills as her thumb and index fingers quickly pinch her nose lightly. The smell is disgusting.

"Milady..what are you doing? You couldn't ride a horse now. It's too hot and the men incharge were busy.." she wavered to look at the same woman eagerly following her.

"Fuck! Will you stop following me? I won't be riding in that disgusting smelly beast or what the hell is that, okay? I wanna talk to Patrick and I want to go as far as away from here..This place makes me sick!" she hissed angrily making a hoarse grawling sound while fingers still on her nose.

Her grumble made quiet a small scene which made the workers threw confused glances at her direction. She felt like in a hotseat.

"What are you staring at..? Go work with whatever you are being paid for! You understand what I'm saying..?" she wailed still fuming. What's wrong with thes people? Have they seen humans except French?

A tall figure of a man interrupted her raging state.

His face is sweaty. The tanned chiseled features was hard and still, looking at her with creased and furrowed brows. And she could literally, no visibly saw tiny hairs on his sun-exposed chest peeking from his wet shirt. And she couldn't help but blush so hard.

"What are you doing here, mylady?" he muttered. Eyes scanning up and down on her entire body. "And for Christ's sake why are you wearing clothes like that? A lady in Chateau dela Notre must not wear things like that..!" he scolded her with an annoyed tone.

"Seriously? Then what is it that I'm gonna wear? Surely this isn't a convent, right?" she mocked full of sarcasm.

"You are the daughter of the distant cousin of Queen Marie-Antonette of France. The daughter of the late Duches of Versailles. Do you think the clothes that your wearing is infact appropriate for your political status?" his voice was murderous as his eyes grew stiff and wild while the workers quickly continued with their unfinished job obviously terrified as they bowed and curtsied Sahara's shocked face.

She tilts her head and look him straight into the eyes.

"What did you just say..?" she egg him on eagier to recieve an explaination.

Patrick's sweaty arms held up in the air gesturing her to back away from under the sun. But her face send him message that she's not that easy to falter.

Seeing her stubborn stand, a long deep somewhat annoyed sigh escaped his pressed lips.

"Okay. I regret to inform you my lady, that you are indeed the future Duches of Versailles. And with that previlage, comes a very tedius task and responsibilities." he retorted steadying his balance with one foot.

"..and wearing proper clothes are just one of them.." he added with a groan. "Caroline, do you not know of your job?" he yelled the woman that was standing near Sahara with a bowed head. Making the woman tremble and swoon down on her knees.

"Please accept my apologies, my lord..this is all my fault." the woman faltered to her feet. Almost tripping her dress.

Sahara roll her eyes in an exasperated way. She adjust her eyeglasses and settled her hands on her slender hips.

"She has nothing to do with these. And besides, I'm an adult now. I can either chose whatever the fucking hell I want.." she push her subject once more. It's only been two days since her arrival and she encounters shocking revelation already. What more of staying here longer?

"I'm going to Paris now." she flash the news casually not minding her now burning skin.

"No, your not!" he groaned.

"Yes I am!" -she counter.

"You are not not going to Paris, and that's final! Caroline escort the lady to her room. Now!" the voice that he spills was like a bomb.

Before she can spit out a curse for him, he was exiting himself back to the pile of junks and muddy animal dirts and join the men at work ignoring her murderous glare.

"My lady.." the woman began.

"Shut the fuck up and don't you dare follow me!" as she stump her foot away out of disgust still sticking up with her earlier decision about the Paris thing.

No one can mendle the way how she's living up with her life. Not even a mouth-watering hot and sexy hunk lord of Versailles, France.