I recognized the sleek, black Aston Martin pulling up toward me.

“Get in.” He didn’t raise his voice—he never raised his voice—but I still heard him loud and clear over the rain.

Alex Volkov was a force of nature unto himself, and I imagined even the weather bowed to him. “I hope you’re not waiting for me to open the door for you,” he said when I didn’t move. He sounded as happy as I was about the situation.

What a gentleman.