Chapter Four

Katerina was furious, slamming the door behind her, swearing under her breath, for her father would be livid if he heard the words coming from her mouth. Swearing alternately at Boromir, and then at her brother Aidyn, and then lastly at herself.

She was going to given Aidyn a piece of her mind when he got home. What had he been thinking? Had he not seen Boromir's interest? Had he no inkling that the man might try something with her?

The reputed, honorable Boromir?

Try boorish and rude and assuming. She had told him nicely to stop and he hadn't listened. Instead, he kept forcing himself on her. What did he think she was, a back alley whore? She had never even been properly kissed. She'd never had an opportunity, her father and brothers kept such close watch of her.

Who did he think he was?

Just because he was the Steward's son, it didn't give him the right to… to….Her thought trailed off as the phrase got stuck in her head, repeating over and over….the Steward's son. The voice inside her head stuttered as if she were speaking out loud. And she… she…she'd kneed him in the….

Heaven's what had she done?

She had assaulted the next ruler of Gondor. She had not rebuffed him with a simple slap, she'd done something far worse. She suddenly found herself no longer angry, but terrified of the repercussions of her actions. She was likely to find herself locked away in the dungeons somewhere. The scandal. Her father would disown her before he'd give up his precious title.

She grabbed her shawl and headed for the door, praying she could find her brothers, or maybe Faramir, maybe he would look favorably on her regret. Maybe intercede on her behalf.

She flung open the door, flushed and breathless, running immediately into an immovable human wall. The impact was so great that she rebounded backwards. It was only his quick reflexes that kept her from falling to the floor. She looked up to see who the strong hands belonged to. It was Boromir, his green eyes staring at her intently.

Once she was steady on her feet he released her, arching a brow, "Going somewhere, mi'lady?"

"Yes m'lord. I was coming to find you," Katerina could not hold her gaze to his. He was intimidating the hell out of her. She looked down at floor. "Boromir," she dared his name, glancing quickly up at his face and then back at the floor, "I wish to apologize, I should not have done..." her voice trailed, she was too embarrassed to even speak the words. "Please milord, forgive me. Do not take this out my father or my brothers."

Boromir could see she was terrified, and although it was a tempting thought, to play her unfounded guilt against her, he could not allow her to think he would hold it against her family.

By the Valor, he didn't even hold it against her. He'd never forced a woman and he wasn't about to start now, no matter how badly he wanted her. He'd behaved beyond crudely. She had made herself clear, and he'd gotten what he deserved. Well sort of, but for her to think he'd punish her or her family for his own oafish behavior.

With a gentleness that stunned Katerina he reached out and cupped her chin with his hand, tilting her gaze to meet his, "Hush lass, you have nothing to worry yourself over. It is I who should be apologizing to you."

Tears of relief slipped from Katerina's eyes, and he reached up to gently wipe them away. Katerina's voice was tremulous, "I wish to offer my apology anyway."

"If it will ease your worry, I will accept it, but only if you accept mine as well."

"Thank you milord."

"Boromir," he corrected. She attempted to smile.

"Aye, Boromir, I hope you don't think I go around…well you know." She cast her gaze away from him again.

"Katerina, you were defending yourself. We seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot. What do you say we forget what just happened and start over?"

Katerina eyed him cautiously for a few moments, considering his request. His apology seemed sincere enough. She stared into his green eyes, suddenly taken by an urge to reach out and push the stray strands of blonde hair that had fallen across his forehead back from his face.

"I think I can do that, milord—I mean, Boromir," she stammered catching herself not wishing him to correct her again.

He smiled down at her, and she nearly melted where she stood. "May I call on you tomorrow?"

"I would find that acceptable." She returned his smile, finding this pace much more suitable, and him much more like what she'd heard about him.

Taking her hand like he'd done back at the celebration he kissed it again, his hand clinging to hers for a few more moments than absolutely necessary. "Until tomorrow then Katerina."

She nodded, and watched him depart. As tiny butterflies of anticipation flitted through her belly, she whispered to herself, "Until tomorrow, milord."