Three little words can help most couples get past their differences.

William S. Cohen and his wife, Janet Langhart Cohen, only need two.

“There are two words: ‘Yes, dear.’ Or, as I say, ‘deah,'” Bill Cohen said, laughing, by phone from the couple’s home in Chevy Chase, Md.

“That’s why I married him – he was so smart,” Janet chimed in on another line.

Over the course of their 11-year marriage, Cohen, a Bangor native, former United States senator, congressman and defense secretary, and Langhart Cohen, a model-turned-journalist, have proved the adage that opposites attract. In Cohen’s new memoir, “Love in Black and White,” he describes how their differences in race, religion and politics have become building blocks – rather than stumbling blocks – to romance and respect.

“I hoped it would be a story of inspiration,” Cohen said. “Anything is possible in this country.”

The book, which combines Cohen’s prose with interviews in Langhart Cohen’s own words, is scheduled to be released on Valentine’s Day, the anniversary of their 1996 wedding in the U.S. Capitol. It is Cohen’s 10th book, and it incorporates passages from Langhart Cohen’s 2004 memoir “From Rage to Reason.” Though “Love in Black and White” ($24.95, Rowman & Littlefield) weaves in history and politics, it is, at its heart, a love story.

“Romance isn’t all hearts and flowers,” Janet Langhart Cohen said. “Romance is a thing like love that evolves. Hard times and good times and mutual support make romance grow. Not to mention, Bill can sing ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ almost on key.”

Bill, the son of a Jewish baker and a Protestant Irish mother, grew up in a tenement near the Queen City neighborhood known as the “Devil’s Half-Acre.” Janet, nee Janet Floyd, hails from Indianapolis, the daughter of a single Southern Baptist mother who cleaned white people’s houses for a living.

Both had already gained prominence on a national stage by the time they met in 1974. It was an accident, really – Bill was scheduled to appear on “Good Morning,” a Boston talk show that had a following throughout New England, to discuss his views on the House Judiciary Committee’s examination of Richard Nixon. Cohen had stopped to blow his nose in the hallway, and when he looked up, he locked eyes with Janet.

“Only a second or so passed, but during that instant, I could sense an energy and an intelligence that was magnetic,” Cohen writes.

In the years that followed that chance encounter, the two stayed in touch, but sporadically. Bill was married at the time, and several years later, Janet was as well. They reconnected after Bill’s divorce and the death of Janet’s husband, but were slow to kindle a romance. In the book, Bill recalls stopping into a small French restaurant near Janet’s New York apartment after catching a Broadway play.

“In the darkness of the room, with candlelight flickering in her eyes and the play’s musical score still dancing in my mind, I found myself staring at Janet,” he writes.

As compelling as Janet’s beauty was – and still is – it was her intellect that really slayed Bill. Their lively discussions, especially when they disagree, are central to their relationship.

“It’s always a vigorous exchange,” Cohen said. “Janet is very persuasive and logical in her thinking, and she can create pictures in one’s mind. In turn, she’s also open to persuasion. Over dinner or over the phone, we try to work our way through – logically or passionately if reason doesn’t prevail.”

Both Cohens say their life experiences have shaped the way they interact – they are both open to many viewpoints and ideas. But not everyone has been so quick to accept their biracial union. Once, after dinner at a New York restaurant, a fellow diner pulled Bill aside and said, “It must be very hard for you,” and, after glancing at Janet, continued “You’re a politician and you have to be careful … what you do in public.”

Bill was furious. So, too, was Janet when a talk show host asked Bill, “What’s it like being married to a black woman?” Curiously enough, the question was edited out of the final broadcast. Though strides have been made, incidents such as Michael Richards’ recent slur-filled diatribe serve as a reminder that racism hasn’t disappeared.

In fact, Cohen was a bit hesitant to tell his own parents that he and Janet were engaged, not because he feared their reaction, but because “they had absolutely zero contact with black people during their lives.” Janet, on the other hand, had no qualms.

“They were wonderful to me,” Janet recalled. “Mom treats me like another daughter. The whole family welcomed me. I think our differences are of more interest and concern to people outside our circle at home. Bill is Bill.”

The Cohens say if their story has proved anything, it’s that America is making progress.

“We are making every attempt we can to evolve into our higher humanity,” Janet Langhart Cohen said. “Our country was founded on liberty and justice for all and we’re just coming up to them. We are evolving, and that is a wonderful thing about our country.”

Today, Cohen serves as chairman and chief executive of The Cohen Group, a global business consulting firm. Langhart Cohen runs Langhart Communications, a media training and consulting company. She also serves as president of the Citizens Patriot Organization and is a proud Army Arlington Lady, a group of women who attend the funerals of fallen soldiers.

Between trips to China, the Middle East and Singapore, Bill would like to squeeze in a trip to Maine – his mom and sister still live in Bangor, and his younger son and his family live in Turner, while his older son and his family live in Atlanta. Janet jokes that all of the couple’s friends have homes in Maine, but Bill, who is from Maine, doesn’t.

“That’s what I want as a wedding present – a home in Maine,” Janet said, laughing.

In “Love in Black and White,” Cohen recalls their wedding day in vivid detail – including the fact that Sen. Strom Thurmond was sitting in the back row, rather than the front, as protocol dictates. But rather than dwell on the snub, Cohen instead focuses on the positives – Janet’s grace and beauty as she walked down the aisle in the Capitol’s chapel, the coterie of friends who surrounded them.

Later, he describes Janet standing on the terrace of their apartment, wearing Tabu, the perfume her mother wore the night she met Janet’s father, and an apricot cashmere robe. In the moonlight, she stared at the Capitol dome and Washington Monument below.

“There was history all around us at that moment,” Bill recalled. “It was a golden moment, even though it was close to midnight.”