His Pale Prisoner

Alana loves the beautiful ranch that her father has built along the edge of the western frontier, but she never considered the cost. She only comes to understand the depth of bloodshed that made her father’s dream a reality, when she finds herself at the mercy of the land’s former residents.

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Excerpt:

Viho's strong arms closed around her, pulling her tightly against his body.
Her forehead fell against his chest as she took several deep breaths, trying to end the fearful spinning of the room.
Yet as soon as the room stopped revolving her body began to tremble. Not from the terrible weakness that threatened to consume her, but from the feel of Viho's body so close to her own.
Wasn't this exactly what she'd wondered about? So often considering what it would be like to feel his arms gently holding her against him.
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling every inch of her body burned by his touch.
Beneath her palms she could feel the steady beat of his heart, and opening her eyes she looked at her hands in surprise. His heartbeat was as powerful as the rest of him, forcibly striking her palm through the solid muscles that surrounded it, and much faster than she might have expected it to be.
Was he as affected by their embrace as she was herself?
Her own heart was beating like the wings of a dove against the prison of her ribs, the trembling in her body increasing as she wondered whether Viho could hear its erratic thunder.
Feeling his gaze upon her face, she timidly lifted her eyes to meet his, and felt her knees buckle beneath her. Never had she seen such intensity in his countenance.
Those frighteningly dark eyes slowly fell to rest upon her lips, and Alana felt her breath catch in her throat.