Sinners' Love

And it's the way Fate comes in unannounced that can change everything.

Natasha had her life ahead of her, but already had it all planned out. It was the first time she was spending the night at her boyfriend's. They had been together for almost three months, and already she could barely stand the thought of being apart.

She opened the door, expecting Carl bringing back food, only to find a stranger. Said stranger was wearing dark jeans that hung low on his hips, a light blue shirt that stretched across his chest nicely, and a leather jacket that completed his bad boy look. He had messy dark brown hair that made him look like he had just gotten out of the bed, his lips were curved into a smirk that had her holding back a gasp, and his midnight blue eyes were taking her in appraisingly.

He was sin incarnated.

"Hey," her voice sounded shaky even to her own ears. She shook her head inwardly, steeled herself and carried on, "Can I help you?"

"You can let me in for starters," the guy's smirk widened and she had to grip the door for fear of falling. How could anyone be so devilishly sexy?

"I beg your pardon?" She bit out, forcing outrage onto her words, when all she wanted to do was do as she was told. Maybe she could get to sample this exotic beauty.

Bad Natasha! She chastised herself.

"Well, it's only fair," he pushed the door open with his hand, ignoring her startled gasp, "I kind of own the house."

"Huh?"

"The name's Daniel by the way," he walked in, dragging two large suitcases behind him, his laptop case dangling by his side, supported by his strong shoulder, "I'm Carl's older brother."

She had heard all about him from Carl. He was a player par excellence, a troublemaker on his best days, a good-for-nothing who had no notion of responsibility, and many other things according to her boyfriend. He had, however, failed to mention he was such a hunk. The man was temptation on legs, and despite her feelings for Carl, it was all she could do not to fling herself at him.

Right then, all the plans she had previously made crumbled to ashes in front of her eyes.

It scared the hell out of her, but excited her to no end.

As her best friend often told her, she had always been a goody-two-shoes. Some part of her thought it might just be the perfect opportunity to change that.

"Honey!" Carl called out loudly as he entered the flat and put his keys on a nearby piece of furniture, "I got you your pizza..."

His next words evaded him as he saw a figure he only knew too well sitting at the kitchen table, calmly sipping coffee, his girlfriend sitting next to him, looking like she didn't know how to act. She raised her head, and he could have sworn he saw stars in her eyes... stars that weren't there when he had left.

"What the hell?" He exclaimed, just as Daniel half-turned in his chair, a smug smirk adorning his face.

Natasha jumped out of her seat, and asked if he wanted coffee as well since she had made more than enough for the three of them. Albeit it was not the right time for it – it was almost nine pm – she had just felt she needed to offer her boyfriend's brother something and didn't find juice in the fridge, she carried on justifying herself.

"Is that any way to welcome your older brother?" Came Daniel's taunting response after Natasha's endearing rambling.

Carl placed the box of pizza on the table, and then stared at his brother, not knowing what to expect.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if trying to make sure this wasn't just a bad dream he was having.

He hadn't seen his brother in years. Not even when their parents died in a car accident six months ago. But then again, his brother had been estranged from the family for almost a decade now.

"What brought you here?" He asked, venom coating his words despite his efforts to appear unaffected.

"Last time I checked, I have my share of the flat," came the sarcastic reply.

"Not here as in here," Carl bit out, pointing at the ground as if he meant the place he had been living in for over four years, "I mean what brought you back to California?"

"The company I work at has always had a branch here in Los Angeles," Daniel drawled matter-of-factly, "I just felt like I needed to get away back when I started at twenty three." He shrugged his shoulders.

"It's not like you just went to New York. You went to Australia!" Carl accused, raking his hand through his hair.

"I don't see how that is any of your business," his brother let out simply. Then, turning to Natasha, he asked softly, holding his cup up, "Can I have some more?"

"It's nine pm for god's sake. It's not healthy!" Carl exclaimed, exasperated, feeling like he was about to explode.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Just because you're going to be a doctor doesn't mean you get to make decisions for me." It was his way of telling him he wasn't his mother. Carl knew his brother was only sparing him the sarcasm because he was exhausted. Then, turning towards Natasha, he politely asked, "Some more coffee, please, darling."

"Oh, hell no!" Carl barked almost immediately, seething, seeing red. "You do not get to call her darling!"

"OK, that may have been out of line," Daniel agreed readily, only to add, "My apologies, sweetheart."

Carl, always the hot-head, swung at his brother who swiftly dodged the punch, grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back, all while still sitting down.

Carl hung his head in shame when he saw the stars in his girlfriend's eyes double. She was admiring Daniel's perfect composure, it seemed. And he couldn't bear to watch as another one of his girlfriends went after the bad boy that was his brother.

"Be a good boy and behave," Daniel bit out acidly. "I believe our parents raised you better than that." He then released him and told him in a no-nonsense tone, "I will be staying here since it's close to my workplace. And I'd rather you didn't act this way every time you felt threatened by my good looks."

"I don't feel threatened," outrage coated Carl's words.

"Sure you don't," his older brother rolled his eyes anew.

"You're not all that," Carl huffed while dropping in a chair, stroking his arm which stung a bit. He shouldn't have swung at his brother. He knew him to be a good fighter. In what world did he think he could land a hit on him?

"I'm still waiting for that coffee, Natasha," Daniel said amiably.

Carl watched as his girlfriend, who had almost been rendered mute during their heated exchange, shot into action and poured his brother some coffee.

Sure, Daniel was arrogant – or confident maybe, Natasha couldn't tell – but was he really as bad as Carl had painted him to her? She didn't know what to think anymore. And she hated to admit it but she felt unbelievably drawn to him. He had charisma, something his little brother did not possess.

Was she going to be yet another one of Carl's girlfriends who had ended up in his brother's bed? She felt shivers go down her spine at that, for she feared she just might.

Their plans for the night had been a little bit ruined thanks to Daniel's impromptu arrival. Although Carl couldn't afford to wine and dine her as he would have liked, and then have her writhing in his bed from pleasure, he had still planned on making her taste the best pizza in L.A and then have his wicked way with her.

Sure, they could still have done that. It wasn't like it would be their first time making love, for they had done it twice already. But the problem was that Natasha felt shy having sex with him, while his brother rested in the room just next to theirs.

"He's had a long flight," she reasoned, for Daniel had informed her during the time they waited for his brother's return that it took almost fourteen hours to travel from Sydney to L.A. "And he can't sleep in airplanes." She added, shrugging her shoulders as if that explained everything.

"He can't?" Her boyfriend asked, incredulous.

She nodded, a small smile stretching her lips, "Yes, he can't stand the noise."

"How much have you two had to talk?" Carl both looked and sounded rather outraged.

Natasha sighed, remembering how Daniel told her Carl would grow very suspicious of her, now that the bad brother was back in the picture. "Not that much," she replied in a reassuring tone. "We just made small chitchat while the coffee was brewing."

"Do tell," she could almost feel the animosity in her boyfriend's voice.

Just how many girlfriends had preferred his brother over him?

"Well, he also told me he had enjoyed his stay in Australia, but had been feeling homesick for almost a year now..."

She was interrupted by Carl's angry input, "Yeah, right! He didn't even come to our parents' funeral."

"About that," she started hesitantly, "he said you left a message on his place's answering machine, but none on his cell phone," she said calmly, taking Daniel's defense even though she barely knew him.

"Yeah," her boyfriend replied readily, "So?"

Natasha dampened her lips before answering, "He had been out of the city at the time, and only came back two weeks after the funeral."

"How convenient!" Carl spat out, rolling his eyes.

A pregnant silence fell between the two lovebirds before the youngest of the Davidson's brothers told his girlfriend in a serious tone, "Don't believe everything that idiot tells you. Did he say anything else?"

Knowing that the guy had earned a full scholarship to study Architecture, and had then been hired right off the bat, and sent to Australia as per his wishes, made him no idiot, quite the contrary. She didn't dare say that to her boyfriend though. "No, he didn't. As soon as I put his cup of coffee in front of him, he fell silent."

It was like he had answered the little questions she had asked because he was exhausted, as if he unconsciously confided in her because the silence would have sent him to sleep in no time. But upon smelling the coffee's comforting aroma, he had recovered from his fatigue.

"Run out of lies to tell perhaps?" She heard her boyfriend mutter acidly.

It was her turn to roll her eyes at that. She only did it inwardly though. It was too soon to be sure, but she was starting to believe the one who was lying to her was Carl, not Daniel.

"Look, the guy is bad news," Carl warned her after a moment, "Don't let him get to you."

"Get to me?" Natasha repeated outraged. She had an IQ of one-fifty, she liked to believe she wasn't one to be fooled easily.

Her boyfriend reached out for her hands, and brought them to his lips for a brief kiss. "You know what I mean."

His light blue eyes already spoke volumes of his unjustified jealousy... unjustified for now, a part of her argued right back.

She tried to chase away the wild images that came to her mind.

Carl had told her that his brother was a bad boy and a self-confessed player. And Daniel sure looked the part. But was he as cunning as he had been painted to her?

She believed what he had told her about his not being at Sydney when Carl had called to inform him of their parents' death. And she was sure the reason Carl did not call his cell phone instead was so he wouldn't have to speak to him. That, one the other hand, told her a lot about Carl's personality.

She had learnt more about her boyfriend's inner workings in one night than she did in their three-month relationship – he was one to hold grudges for starters, and he had a violent streak.

Swinging at his brother just because he had been teased was not something one who had all his wits together would do in her book.

As her boyfriend snored softly next to her and sleep evaded her, she couldn't help but want to discover all that was to know about Daniel Davidson.

The man was supposedly a bad boy, and god only knew how much bad boys attracted good girls. If she were to be honest with herself, her boyfriend had every reason to feel threatened by his brother's presence.

She shook her head, trying to dispel the tempting images of her with the older brother, and then rose from the bed, making a beeline to the kitchen.

She opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Boo!"

She jumped in fright, spilling water all around, startled as she was by Daniel's successful attempt at scaring her.

She turned to him and hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Seriously?" She whispered, narrowing her eyes in mock anger.

"I just couldn't help it," he shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Just how old are you?" She muttered while grabbing a floor cloth, prepared to start mopping.

"Twenty-eight," he replied readily while reaching out for the floor cloth. "Let me," he told her softly, "this mess is my fault." He pointed at the floor.

"Nonsense," she shook her head negatively, "you should be resting."

"Contrarily to my brother, I'm not one to sleep too much. 3 or 4 hours of rest and I'm ready to raise hell," he told her in an amused tone, ending his sentence with a wink.

He doesn't sleep much, huh? Just like me, she thought. Just like most geniuses, she then reasoned.

"Still," she argued, a smile stretching her lips, enjoying their simple exchange, "I can't have you mopping the floor on your first day back home."

"I like you," he said after a moment, "Plus one."

"You think you're grading my paper or something?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Well, you're majoring in Architecture, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she replied while crouching to mop the floor. She had told him that when she had introduced herself.

"Well, I will be teaching you a course starting next week," he told her matter-of-factly.

"Oh," she let out, half-alarmed half-excited by the news.

"So, although my dumb little brother won't be inviting you back here for as long as I stay here, I will be seeing you in class, miss..." he trailed off, not knowing her last name.

"Miss Daniels," she muttered under her breath, pink tinting her cheeks despite her best efforts not to blush.

"Good one," he chuckled. "Seriously though, what's your last name?"

"I just told you," she retorted while narrowing her eyes at him.

"Oh my, you're mine already?" He let out in a mock incredulous tone, "Lucky me!"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Haha, very funny," the sarcastic words were out of her mouth before she could help it. She felt so at ease with him.

"Watch it there, missy," he warned her half-jokingly half-seriously, "I don't like cheeky brats."

"I'm not a brat," she huffed, resuming her work.

"Yeah, you're not." Was it just her or did his voice turn slightly husky at that? "I noticed," he admitted in a rather hushed tone before leaving the kitchen.