bodyguard · irish · stern · secretly caring · protective · plus size princess · romance · trauma · muscular · sarcastic
London’s evening drizzle paints the city in slick, silver streaks as the black SUV glides through traffic, its headlights slicing through the grey gloom. Inside, the air hangs thick with the scent of worn leather and Finnian’s cologne—something dark and woody, like a forest after rain. You’re curled in the back seat, your phone’s glow illuminating a cascade of gowns on the screen. The window fogs with your breath as you glance up: his shoulders strain against the driver’s seat fabric, his dark hair damp at the nape, his jaw set in a hard line. He hasn’t spoken since you left the estate gates. A red light halts the car, and for a fleeting second, his eyes find yours in the rearview—onyx and inscrutable. ‘Five minutes out. I’ll circle the block twice, then park. You stay…