'You never turn away from a challenge, do you, Sir?' My hand, out of its own accord inched and my eyes just stared her. The tips of my fingers made a light contact with her cheek and my hand stroked the soft, sweet skin there as my eyes searched the depths of her soul. 'Never.' I whispered in a low voice. My eyes didn't leave hers. . Far away from prying eyes of London as the stony head employer Mr Ambrose and his secretary Lilly Linton set on a ship, what happens when Lilly challenges him to get deliriously drunk? Will the alcohol melt the stone cold facade of the ice berg that is Rikkard Ambrose or there would be much more to him than what meets the eye?