Foot
He can still pinpoint the exact moment that she really caught his attention, outside of hey, nice, bet someone's going to get lucky with that tonight.
Bored out of his mind after a gathering had turned into a dance and he wanted nothing more than to escape, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a tall, almost frail-looking pale-haired woman dancing with a portly middle-aged gentleman.
He looked again more closely, flinching in expectation of a painfully shrill, angry outburst, when a large, meaty hand drifted down to rest heavily on the girl's backside.
But it hadn't come; and seconds later, he had had given an appreciative shout of laughter when she had opted against bursting into tears or temper in favour of smiling angelically before bringing one high, narrow heel down on his foot as hard as she could, and then apologizing profusely and helping her dance partner find an ice pack.
Pure evil, he thought with a tremendous grin, making a mental note to get her number before the night was through.