A glass door led into the house from the patio. It opened before them just as they arrived.
"Heavens," said a deep voice from within. "Come inside. Gio, when you said you were stonewalking in today, I assumed you'd at least think to bring an umbrella."
Max didn't need to be told that this was Mace. He had an air of authority and power that left her in no doubt that he was the master of the house. After his playful greeting to Gio, he turned to her immediately and held out a hand.
"Mace MacKay. And you must be Maxine."
"Max," she said, clasping his hand.
Mace was a large man, pale with a faint tan, his dark hair graying at the temples. His dark burgundy sweater didn't disguise powerful shoulders and the physique of a bodybuilder.
"Come in, come in. I'll have something dry brought for you to wear." He assessed Max with a quick glance. "Both the women of the household, Jess and Thea, are taller than you, but I'm sure we can find something suitable. Gio, for your sins I'll provide a flour sack. I believe we have some in the kitchen."
"You're too kind," Gio said.
"I'm sure you'll make it look stylish anyway."
They went down a stone-tiled hallway into a long room with tall windows that looked out, at the moment, primarily on fog and rain. But inside, warm lamplight and a flickering fire in an old-fashioned fieldstone fireplace provided a warm and homy atmosphere.
There were two women in chairs in front of the fireplace, chatting and laughing quietly. One of them was nursing a baby. The other leaned forward attentively as they talked, holding a cup of tea.
"Our guests have arrived," Mace said. "As you can see, they came in the hard way. Thea, Jess, you know Gio, and this is Max. I'll leave you to chat among yourselves while I obtain some towels."
Thea rose from her chair to greet them. Jess—the woman with the baby—said with a smile, "Hello, Max. I hope you don't mind if I don't get up. Gio, it's nice to see you, even if you look like something the cat dragged in."
"I have learned a valuable lesson about North Atlantic weather," Gio said ruefully.
Max could see why Mace had thought that neither woman's clothing would fit her, though he had been tactful as to the reasons. They were both tall and slim. Thea inclined toward a fashionably boyish style of dress, a cream shirt and brown tweed slacks, while Jess was dressed in a way that Max could only think of as "stylish librarian," in a cardigan over a long gray skirt.
"We brought a few things from Gio's estate," Max said, holding out the basket as if in self-defense. "Cheeses, prosciutto, some fruit."
Thea accepted the basket and set it on the table. "That's wonderful, thank you! But I can't have you standing around in wet clothes while we wait for Mace to find towels. Come with me, I'm sure I have something you can change into. And I also have a hair dryer you can use."
Thea was reserved but warm, and Max liked her immediately. She took Max to an attractive guest suite on the second floor. By now the weather had cleared a little, and Max could glimpse rolling bright-green hills and the roofs of a small town below them. She knew there was a bay because of Gio talking about the place, but it was nearly invisible. The fog came down to blend with the gray water, rendering it into an indistinguishable murk.
"Delightful weather, isn't it?" Thea said. "It's an acquired taste, I think. I love it here personally. I've never liked being hot, I don't mind getting wet, and I won't complain about an excuse to stay inside and work on my research papers."
Max privately thought that, if this weather was typical, it would drive her around the bend—but there was a personality type for every climate. "Research papers?" she said, toweling her hair. "What do you research?"
"I'm an archaeologist. Right now I work in St. John's and take summers for my own work. There is some amazing archaeology on the island, but I only moved here last year, so I'm not quite up to speed on it yet." She grinned. "And I can see your eyes glazing over—"
"No, no, I'm interested," Max protested. "Tell me all about it."
"I know that look, believe me. Get a glass or two of wine in me and you'll have to stuff one of Gio's cheeses into my mouth to shut me up about it, but for now, I won't make you stand there in wet pants while I tell you about the finer points of Norse dendrochronology." She laid a stack of folded clothing on a chair. "Here, see if any of these fit."
"I really do want to hear about it," Max promised. "I'll swap you some details on the finer points of high explosive weaponry."
Thea laughed. "You're on. Come on down when you're ready."
Max dried her hair in the bathroom and checked out the clothing options. It looked like it was mostly from Jess. She put on a T-shirt and a cardigan—which wouldn't button over her chest—and inspected the results in the mirror. Sexy librarian, definitely. Well, maybe she would open Gio's mind to a whole new side of his sexuality.
She looked out the window again, and had to admit that she was stalling. It hadn't really hit her that this was a lot more than a casual social event. This was the part of the relationship where she met Gio's family.
At that realization, she had to smile at herself.And he got to meet mine when we were on the run from cultists. Gio never had a chance to be eased into this. I have plenty of time to prepare.
But she still had to screw up her courage before getting ready to go downstairs. If there was one thing Max knew about herself, it was that she was no one's idea of perfect wife material.
Except Gio's.
